Welcome to the shit show.

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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.

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

Last touch of a lover’s hand | Goodbye, Tony

Tony's Goodbye

Goodbye, Tony

Many months ago, Molly of Molly’s Daily Kiss suggested I get involved in Sinful Sunday. I haven’t been able to get my shit together to make it happen until now. Laying in my bed with Tony last weekend, in the last hour of our final goodbye, he’d fallen asleep with his hand on my breast. I captured that moment.

I still remember vividly the first time he touched me, almost two years ago. The electricity never dimmed and while it brings me to tears to think about these hands never touching me again, I will always have these moments; captured on film, or not.

Click on the lips to see who else is participating.Sinful Sunday

Making a breakup stick.

Update! I added the widget. It makes me smile. Enjoy.


I’ve been thinking about adding a widget to my blog akin to “X days accident-free” signs found in industrial plants. “24 hours Tony-free” – which I would have to update if I contact him or reply to any outreach.

He doesn’t fully realize the nature of my goodbye. Granted, the last time I said goodbye (May 2015) I lasted a mere few months. I don’t blame him. No matter what I’ve said, he thinks we will be “friends”.

I didn’t think it worth my time or emotional energy to challenge his ridiculous and unrealistic beliefs about what would happen next. When he said we could now have play dates with our children, all I said was “oh and how are you going to explain who I am to Mary?” and he said “I will figure something out.”

Right. Continue reading

This is the ultimate sign…#142

“The signs are always there…you just have to be open to seeing them.” – Hyacinth Jones

The great thing about a truthful diary – online or not – is you have a record of the things you experience, you write about the signs, even if you can’t see them in the moment.

22 months.

EXACTLY 22 months, to the day. I met him on the 22nd of December, 2014. I’m not normally superstitious, but there have been some crazy coincidences with numbers in my life the last three years. Phone numbers and important birthdays and addresses and the like.

So I take this as a sign that the timing is right.

Finally. Continue reading