We spoke. It’s over.

After almost 36 hours of complete silence, Jack finally texted me back. I’d sent a text saying “good morning, when can we talk today?” and he replied with “We can speak around 4 or after 10 tonight. Have a great day.”

I didn’t reply with what I wanted to say (“Have a great day? Seriously?”) but simply said, “4 it is”.

It was difficult to focus at work and I resented him for deliberately (yes, it was) leaving me hurt and anxious.

And when I picked up the phone, this is what he said:

“Ann, I’m not over my last girlfriend.  Continue reading

A death in the friend family.

He was a friend, admirer, and protector. Never a lover. He was like the older brother I never had. 

A decade-plus older with way more work experience, he was one of the first colleagues to help me understand how good of a leader I actually am. He was crusty and opinionated but looked up to me. As an independent contractor he could work with anyone, and he chose to work for me. I was humbled by his praise.

I was blessed by his presence in my life.

During one of the projects we worked together on he took a pastry course. We all looked forward to Wednesday mornings when the treats would arrive. Never fully satisfied with his work, he rebuffed our compliments, said through stuffed mouths. He always showed up on time to my parties. He was single the whole time I knew him and at first I assumed he was gay. Turned out after his last long-term relationship he’d tired of trying, and spent his time doting on his nieces and nephews. But he always had relationship advice for me.

He was the one who called me the day after my party, where HWSNBN lost his shit, to make sure I was okay. He made me promise to end it and offered to do anything I needed to keep me safe.

At my party, HWSNBN had told him to “fuck off” after he made a nice comment about my legs. Blind with jealousy, HWSNBN couldn’t see the friendship and teasing behind the comment. And his anger at my friend helped cement his demise. No asshole was going to come between me and the people I choose to surround myself with.

The last time I saw him he sat in one of my comfy chairs, joked about my cast, then quietly disclosed his recent absence from my life was due to depression, not a physical illness as I’d feared. He was starting to realize it was okay to share, but knew his pride and stubborn nature got in the way. 

We promised to see each other soon.

That was February. 

And now I mourn the loss. His death was sudden and unexpected, and a reminder to try to live every day as if it was not only my last day, but my friends and family’s as well.

The reason I reset my Tony counter.

I probably don’t need to explain too much how seeing that picture on Instagram made me feel. There was a lot going on in my head. I’d also been drinking and not that I ever use it as an excuse, but it absolutely reduced my impulse control.

I hadn’t contacted Tony about anything for a week after our last night together, nor had he reached out to me. We hadn’t texted, hadn’t even “liked” anything on Instagram (he’s on Twitter but neither of us are active there).

But in my hurt and anger, I did something which is now uncharacteristic – I sent a text in anger, something along the lines of:

“Wow, from my bed to “love birds” within a week? Nice. Makes me wonder whether I’ve been played the fool.” Continue reading

Evicerating a heart in a few easy steps.

Step 1:

Believe the words a man tells you; that he loves you, that you are unlike anyone else in his life, that although you aren’t going to be intimate anymore he doesn’t want to lose you in his life. Believe he can’t possibly be so deceitful that he’s letting two women think the same thing when it comes to his love and commitment to them. Justify staying intimate with him by telling yourself she can’t possibly believe he’s romantically in love with her.

Step 2:

After you break up for the final time, spend a fair amount of mental calories debating whether to block him from contacting you. Believe he will be the one to reach out. Think about ways you need to be strong to get through the breakup without reverting. Believe he will be the one that suffers more in your absence, than you in his. (Note: this is perhaps dangerously close to hubris)

Step 3: Continue reading

Anger is an iceberg.

I’m rarely really angry. When it happens, I get ice cold from head to toe. And when that happens, it’s pretty pure anger. I’m glad it’s rare; it’s a terrible feeling.

I rarely yell. My anger is cold, not hot. My ex was a volcano – his anger simmered under the surface until it blew over, he would yell or say horrible nasty cruel things, and then it would be over.

Even more rare for me is irrational anger – not a surprise to most of you I suppose. I usually can think away any strong emotion. It’s also one of the things I’ve been working on: actually feeling what I feel, instead of talking it away. Continue reading

The elusive creature named Kyle

I think this might be a record for slowest relationship start – scratch that, since I don’t know if this is the start of anything whatsoever. The magic 8 ball aka my Mother says yes but this has not been an auspicious start.

This is the longest it’s taken me to have four dates with anyone. I don’t count Jake since we stopped after the first.

Dates isn’t even a great term. The first meeting was a pre clearance date. Then a dinner date, then a spontaneous late night discussion on my couch, and most recently, another couch conversation in lieu of what was supposed to be a date.

Three months from our first contact.  Continue reading

i didn't hesitate to tell Tony all my grievances

The wrath of Ann

Previous Post

I have chronic shoulder and neck pain; have probably never mentioned it. It’s stress and posture related, and I was in agony that night. I opened a bottle of prosecco with a goal of getting a little drunk before he showed up. Feeling dramatic, I chose to make the cocktails we had on our first date. Prosecco, ginger liqueur, and orange curaçao. Gorgeous drink. It hurt emotionally to make it.

I wanted all the pain and anger to wash over me. I hadn’t ever really let it all out, I always let Tony’s intentions limit my responses to his actions. In other words, I’ve always told myself since he didn’t intend to hurt me, I could get over it. I have been ultra understanding and kind, this whole time.

But it would be the same thing as me saying HWSNBN’s behavior was okay because he loved me desperately. And I certainly didn’t allow it in that case. Continue reading

Three quick things

My gut was more right than I thought. Those days away for “work” when he could mysteriously not talk to me? Tony was on vacation with his “ex” wife and child. 

Pretty sure the only reason he confessed was because I called him on his bullshit.

In theory I may see him tonight so he can tell me all this to my face. 

::

I’ve not heard from Ian since the Happy Mother’s Day text.

::

I went on another first date. Coffee, within 48 hours of first contact. He’s communicative. Very tall – 6’8″. Real job. Confirmed our second date as we said goodbye. Kiss on the cheek. 

Can honestly say if not for the latter I would be even deeper in a spiral of anger.

I’m not hiding from you, but from my mind.

I think this is the longest I’ve gone without posting anything in a long time. There are many many words in my head but they just haven’t come out yet. After all, I was with Tony for six days, through yesterday afternoon, and goodness knows I couldn’t write in front of him.

I don’t really know where to start, and it won’t be right now. But I will tell you I didn’t manage to get through my vacation without telling Tony some of what was on my mind. As usual, there was no resolution with him. Just some explanations and discussion. But not the words I really needed to hear.

Not that I expected to hear what I wanted. I’m no fool.  Continue reading

I'm f*cking miserable.

I’m sick for the second day and stuck in bed.

I have very bad menstrual cramps.

I’m crazy horny.

I had concert tickets for tomorrow night, but all my friends are busy tomorrow and nobody could come with me, so I had to move my tickets to another concert.

Tony is shooting today and tomorrow so I have no time with him, even if he’d be willing to come see me when I’m sick.

I’m alone.

And I actually feel alone.

Continue reading