Leo laid bare.

Apparently some¬†of you aren’t happy even when I skip to the end of my story. So from now on, you’ll get what you get ūüôā

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Leo paced back and forth between my living room and kitchen while he spoke. He was clearly uncomfortable. He drank water constantly.

He started with a statement about how he was raised to be the one who was strong and couldn’t be vulnerable. I wasn’t sure where he was going, but it was just the intro. Continue reading

Well, I wasn’t expecting that. Leo comes clean.

“Can we talk? My head has been churning all week and there is something I need to tell you.”

This from Leo, the day I left for my overnight business trip. In order to skip ahead to the good stuff, suffice it to say I agreed to hear what he had to say, and he came over to my place the evening I returned.

I was prepared for a semi-desperate attempt on Leo’s behalf to win me back or for him to argue me out of what I was feeling or wanting. And while yes, what he chose to share with me was about trying to keep me in his life, it wasn’t what I was expecting. Continue reading

Vacations are the kiss of death for my relationships.

I broke up with Leo three nights ago. I’d been writing about how I felt about him and doing my usual processing of things. I’d spoken to my Mom earlier in the week and decided I’d just see how things played out. There was no “burning platform” to break up. No crazy blog-finding (Fox) or police action (HWSNBN) or wives who found out about a relationship (Tony).

I decided to see how the next few weeks went, now that I’m finally relatively physically mobile and we could have more active dates. It had been 5 weeks without any Tony contact and I was working my way through that.

But the decision wasn’t sitting well in my brain. Continue reading

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

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

It’s hard to break up with a man when he’s being nice to you.

So, Alan.

He had been so insistent about coming to visit me and wanting to take care of me for a couple of days, I didn’t feel comfortable saying no. But I knew things weren’t going to continue as they had.

The prior several weeks I’d realized no men got me emotionally excited, and I started to feel perhaps I would be fine just letting him go.¬† 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

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.