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 →
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.
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)
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.
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.”
“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.
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.
It’s funny how things work sometimes; especially love and heartbreak.
There have been numerous Tony “incidents” in the last couple of months which have stung. From breaking a four-year seal on photos of his “ex” wife on Instagram on my birthday, to his taking a vacation with his wife for her 40th birthday, sans child, for the first time in ages. There are several examples, all shitty – for me.
Intellectually, its interesting to decompose the various scenarios and try to understand her perspective. There are a few options – she’s either an innocent in all of this and has no idea what he’s up to, to the other extreme of she suspects./ knows and is putting him through his paces to prove his love before she pushes him to move back in.
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 →
Tara suggested my last post sounded like closure with Tony. I hadn’t thought about it until that moment, and have been reflecting on it since.
I suppose I had always defined goodbye as something truly final – but it’s more nuanced than that. For now, I’m not going to cut off contact. I’m not blocking and deleting him (the latter having no impact anyway since his number has been memorized for a long time); there’s no point. However, with each discussion I am further disconnected emotionally.
For the first time ever, Tony told me he loved me. Despite some of you thinking it was manipulative, it seemed to me to be said more from surprise and compassion. I’d suspected for a long time he did love me, but it was wonderful to finally hear it.
Even if it was too late, and wouldn’t change a thing.
I punched him in the chest and say “you ass, why didn’t you ever tell me that before?”
He just looked at me blankly and said “I dunno Ann. Because I’m a guy? But I do love you.”
It’s 8 days since Tony and I broke up. My first 3 days weren’t horrible, with sweating, talking, and a good fuck on Monday night. Tuesday I went out with a girlfriend for drinks and dinner. I was hoping to see the Comedian afterwards but he had to deal with work at the last minute.
Wednesday I had a friend over for dinner. Over sushi and proscecco we talked about life and breakups and the general shittiness of my situation.
Thursday I met a new man for tea. He’d reached out to me on the website for a local swingers club and had been interested in meeting me for a while. He knew about Tony and my hesitance to meet him was primarily because Tony wasn’t ready for any group play, and I didn’t want to vet any new men until that time. Continue reading →