Wondering is worse.

I blocked Tony last night.

Originally I wasn’t going to. He’d  promised to be in touch shortly after our last conversation “next week I will come see you; I will figure it out”. I knew it was unlikely he’d be in touch exactly when he said, but I wanted the opportunity to explain I couldn’t be his friend because despite everything, I’m still in love with him.

But he didn’t call. It’s almost two weeks later. I’ve learned he experiences time differently than I; my days tend to be packed full of life and therefore two weeks seems like forever. He isn’t on any jobs right now and his days just blend one into another. I often have to look at my calendar to remind myself not as much time has passed as I think.

I knew he would get in touch at some point and expected it would be this week. Continue reading

The reason Tony and I can’t be friends.

If you haven’t read about the recent “developments” with Tony, you can start with this post.

I know I’ve said it many times: this blog is extraordinarily helpful for sorting out my crap. I was in a good place with Tony, because I’d blocked him for weeks, successfully. I missed him but it was abstract, and I didn’t feel a pull to reach out or reconnect. When I unblocked him, I experimented with what it was like to be completely reactive – I let him call or text.

It was very minimal contact. It was platonic.

It was a fucking slippery slope.  Continue reading

Welcome to the shit show.

Previous Post

I hated how much the whole thing with Tony consumed my thoughts. Wondering what happened, how she found out, what their decision was (if any), and what was next.

I knew I may never get an answer. I knew the bulk of my interest was intellectual curiosity. Maybe most importantly, I knew that no contact with him was best for me. I wasn’t tortured at the thought of not talking to him regularly.

I was more upset with myself, at the time and emotional effort I’ve spent the last month or two seeing whether I could meet his need for us to remain friends. It wasn’t going to work, I’ve known it for a long time, but I tried anyway.  Continue reading

Tony got BUSTED, part 2

Previous Post

Tony and I have had two short conversations about his again-wife finding out about us (side note: yes, she’s his wife, again. I’m honestly afraid if I just call her his “wife” I’m going to get trolled like crazy, and the truth is they were separated when I met him).

In the first discussion, he told me she’d found out about Jamaica. I was confused because it seemed an odd “discovery” at this time, 14 months ago after we went. I asked how it was possible that us seeing each other after the sports game could possibly have led to that.

He was vague. He said “Ann, I don’t want to relive it again right now. There was a lot of screaming and crying.” Continue reading

Tony got BUSTED

I haven’t been writing much about Tony these last many weeks, mostly because there isn’t much to say. I blocked him for a while to help myself break old patterns, then when I unblocked him he started calling.

I answered the phone when he called, and found our conversations frustrating – not because of anything he did wrong. I couldn’t find a happy medium where I could be his friend in a way meaningful to me. If he told me anything about the crap in his marriage, I would get (internally) frustrated because I thought he should be trying. Conversely, if he said something was going well, it hurt.

And bottom line is, despite all of his failings, he’s doing stuff with his again-wife and child that I wanted the opportunity to do. Continue reading

I can still get really angry – at Tony

I am writing this post fresh. Freshly angry. Apologies in advance for a lack of editing and shitty structure.

You’ll surely recall he (Tony) fucked me on Christmas eve, in the midst of family-oriented errands. He was fully ensconced in family time for Christmas and days afterwards. So naturally, he didn’t reach out. I am not part of that part of his life.

Which honestly down to my core was just fine – because it helped me put more nails in the coffin of what was left of our relationship.

It boils down to this: Continue reading

Tony’s Christmas Gift

I can’t even recall exactly when first contact was made with Tony. I had several weeks of silence, which was good for me. Strangely perhaps, the subsequent contact didn’t pull me back in but instead, helped me move on.

It’s been a long journey to get to this point. Tony’s duplicity is no surprise, nor is his ability to obfuscate and avoid conversations that reveal too much truth. He’s an expert.

So I’m not in any way going to suggest surprise at any of those things.

But. Continue reading

Alan, Lewis, Clark, Todd, plus one.

I’ve had a busy week. I’m writing this on a plane, having had just 4 hours of sleep last night, but boy was it worth it.

My life is normal to me, because it’s mine. But sometimes I see myself through the eyes of others, and I think – whoa. I have been in the arms of five different men in the last 7 days. None were new to me. Two were at the same time. One I didn’t have penetrative sex with. But still.

You know what? It was awesome.

I saw Alan and it felt like a repeat of earlier dates. Nothing new to discuss.

But Lewis and Clark both came over during the week and sweet holy heck was it amazing. Sometimes threesomes can be repetitive – being “spit roasted” (sucking one while fucking the other) and literally just switching from one end of the bed to the other. Continue reading

It physically hurts.

Most days it’s fine. 

Work is intellectually demanding and I’m in a room with others almost constantly. I’m colleague wrangling. Thankfully, my brain is busy during the day.

I try to focus on the kid when I’m with him. That helps many nights.

I am able to be present with friends, and when I’m on a date.

But then, when I’m alone, or on my way to work, or just because – the emotional equivalent of a lightning bolt strikes. I know it’s not physical pain but I feel it. My chest constricts, it’s hard to breathe, I can’t think of anything else. 

Fuck, I miss him.

Broke the silence & an uncomfortable conversation

Once my home computer’s ability to connect to the internet again I will reset my Tony timer. I could make an intellectual argument about intent and therefore it shouldn’t count blah blah, but why bother.

I was texting with Hy and mentioned ruminating about asking him to block me on Instagram – his account and Mary’s, if he could.

She said “just text him RIGHT NOW and ask”. Knowing he’d promised I would be unblocked, but that she could see his phone, I wanted to send a very neutral message. I simply said “I need a favor; can you let me know when you have a free minute. I will be available after 6pm.” I was heading to a session with my personal trainer and I didn’t want to talk myself back out of it.

Why did I ask? Continue reading