I’ve been communicating with Tony this past week. Week one was just a couple of innocuous text messages. I’d been keeping an email in my draft folder to add links and thoughts, which largely kept me from reaching out to him constantly.
I mentioned this in a text – the presence of the email. He asked to read it so before I could edit it, I hit send. He said he would give it a “proper response”. Which was puzzling because it was entirely rhetorical. I had a few thoughts about whether contact with him, even infrequent, would be detrimental. I said at times I wished he’d just get back with Mary so I knew I hadn’t made a mistake.
I figured his response was going to address these comments.
I wish he hadn’t mentioned a response at all; the thought of it took up too much of my mental capacity, especially when a few days later, in the face of no response, he said he put off difficult tasks and was having a hard time. What the fuck did that mean? I figured he was trying to tell me he was getting back with her, or he didn’t miss me, or no contact was the only way forward.
It was none of those things. He wrote me a letter that spoke mostly of how perfect and amazing I was for him.
I would love to be able to be his friend. Not because I have hope for any reconciliation or progress on his part. I know it is likely many many months or years away for him to sort out his shit. But I care about him and love to talk to him. He makes me laugh.
But – and it’s a big but (just like mine ha ha) – whenever he mentions doing stuff with family or friends, I immediately go to the place of anger and hurt of me being a secret. Of feeling like a mistress. It’s a reminder of the one thing I couldn’t have with him. I don’t like how that feels.
The harsh truth is he cannot ever tell his ex about me until he is ready to be done with that relationship, because it puts his relationship with his son (and her) at risk.
So I’m not sure I can talk to him with any regularity.
A close friend also told me it’s likely if I continue contact with him, he will continue to disappoint me until I am completely disillusioned. This is also true. With every 12 hour delay in responding to a text message, to a reminder of his inability to move forward, to his omissions, it’s another nail in the coffin of there ever being a chapter 3.
I am still in touch infrequently with Maria, Fox’s daughter. He asked me if I minded and I did not; she’s going through some big things these days and he thought I could be a positive influence.
Fox himself has been in touch here and there. When I saw he’d visited my blog the day I posted my breakup post, I reached out on Facebook messenger and asked him to please stop. Since then we’ve had occasional contact. Nothing worth writing about. He’s dating a new woman and (in my cynical opinion) made sure I knew. He told me her name, it’s pretty unusual, and of course she showed up in my “people you may know” on Facebook. She’s pretty, with three little kids, and thinks he’s fascinating. Good for him.
Two days ago he told me I showed up on one of his friends match lists on OK Cupid. 90% match. His friend had sent him the screen shot. Perfect. Higher than he and I, he pointed out. I have no idea what our match percentage was.
Fox has provided commentary – mostly unsolicited – on the breakdown of our relationship. He wasn’t himself, he says, because I intimidated him. His new girlfriend says they have amazing banter and she finds him fascinating.
I explained I didn’t need to hear about his new relationship to understand what he felt about ours.
He tells me I’m an incredible woman not to settle. Right.
I am collecting the funny, sad, and ridiculous comments I’m receiving on OK Cupid. Maybe I should open an Instagram account dedicated to shitty dating openers. I’m sure there are many out there and certainly just with the bloggers I follow, we could write a book. How about a coffee table book? There’s a thought.
Another man reached out who I met before. We met once, I think when Johnny and I were open, before I went on a two week vacation. He was okay but j had too much going on and I didn’t keep in touch.
He’s keen to meet – he remembers a great connection and even better sex. I told him I’d be fine to meet over a drink but I’m not going to fuck him. He’s followed up with a more specific invitation and a very sexy message. I don’t think he realizes I was serious about no sex.
And then there’s someone else. A 96% match. Handsome, articulate, and honest. During and after an hour plus phone call, I had that delicious tingle of excitement. I’m also cynical, so figure there’s going to be something amiss.
We are meeting for a coffee. He said he knows that until we kiss, we can’t know if the chemistry is there.
If it’s not there, okay, moving on.
But what if there is?