10.000 Frenchmen Can’t Be Wrong

My Panel reads my blogs….you guys know that. They read it to support me and to find out what is really going on with me. Yes, I talk to them on a near daily basis and while I can get in-depth, I also give them the I’m fine spiel also because  there are some things I cannot verbalize. Morning Person says I sound different when I write and I communicate different things via the blog….and that is because I feel things and think things that if I tried to say them….it would come across completely wrong and sometimes the anger, hurt and confusion I feel….if I had to speak it to someone, I would be crying too hard to say a word.

New BFF asked me why do I torture myself with the unanswered questions? Fuck Him and concentrate on me; and all I can say is I love this man, and thought we had already had our train wreck. I trusted ( as best I could)  and believed him and in him for a second time, and in some ways I am like a child: optimistic and seeing the best in people despite the flaws. I treat people with love caring, respect and a lot of great things and want to believe that they will do the same. I have been betrayed and blindsided and like I told him during one of my rants: I have simply NEVER been subjected to such fucked up and erratic behavior in ALL my days and never have I been treated so ridiculously by anyone, even in active addiction. Hell, the people in active addiction have a reason and an excuse….what’s his? His cowardly cop-outs and hiding behind the curtain offer nothing, so I am having to give myself closure and that crap isn’t easy…at all.  It is involving me having to re-think everything but still I do not know if I am telling myself the truth or indulging in speculation and  right now, I end up either doubting/questioning  myself and my capabilities or wondering why I never saw the role he was playing. BUT, I have help and not just from my panel.

I do not have to concentrate on myself because I hear all day, every day from family, friends, co-workers and strangers on the street how wonderful, pretty, fashionable, and sweet I am. I need to concentrate on accepting it. Every job I have ever worked I have given my all; I am a damned good worker and not dumb in the least little bit. I am a quick learner, organized, have awesome time management skills and give great customer service. I have follow-up and follow-through and a wonderful personality. I am the character in the office, I am the one who shares her lunch and offers to help the other person get caught up. Always I hear two things wherever I work: what did we do before you came and that I am arguably the best dressed and most fashionable person in the office.  I have a great rapport with my supervisors (even the Craziest Bitch in America and I have a decent personal relationship; she may not appreciate my skills set, but she recognizes it and will acknowledge it) and my co-workers love me. If you give me a task, you know that it will be completed correctly and in a timely manner. I am the one who may not make it to the office early (on time is a stretch and needs to be recognized when it happens) but I will forego lunch and stay late to ensure the project meets its deadline. With all I offer, I am not sure why I am the one who makes the short list but it has been thrown out there that everyone thinks I will be more than okay with all I bring to an office and while it is a cold comfort to know that I am still missed and irreplaceable at these places, it is a comfort nonetheless.

My friends….I think I am not a good friend, but they beg to differ. I bring quirkiness, laughter and a unique point of view to their lives. I am generous, kind, sweet, a good listener, give good advice and love them for who they are and where they are. I try to be there for them as much as they are they for me and with this fiasco, I try to give them space and time because my disaster is not theirs. Even now that I am poorer than I have ever been, I will still sacrifice to let them know how much they mean to me and I have no problems doing so because I feel that what they offer and give me is without limits and has no price tag. I am told that I have this great positive energy and exude great karma, but I draw from those who feed it to me.

The men in my life: I really have to go with they are fucked up and with him….I need to accept that it really is him and not me. Every man says I am all these great things: beautiful, loving, caring, kind, sexy and sensual. I am the best lover they have ever had and I offer things unmatched. I am crazy, wonderful, sexy and cool and my love is higher, tighter and sweeter. I treat the man I love like a King and no request is too small.  They tell me that sexually I am kinky, open-minded and willing and that is a good thing; who knows what will come out of my mouth and they say my candor and humor is refreshing. Perhaps I am too accommodating as I am always the one who gets left or maybe, the intensity and larger than life persona that I hear everyone say I carry is not a myth but the truth and only a chosen few can handle me for the long term. Yes, they return and usually I am willing try again as perhaps we have both learned lessons; hell even Married Man realized what he had in me, he did not realize what to do to keep it. Him and I are not new to the break up game and we have found our way back to each other before…..but never, never has any breakup with any man been this way and I pray this is my first and last experience with such cowardice, confusion and deception. It is unfathomable to me that someone would experience the depth of what I am and all I can be to them and still reject it, and perhaps my ego is making it harder to let go of him because I come back to the why and the what: WHAT does a woman with 3 kids have that I don’t and WHY am I and my offerings not enough? Those questions come directly from the ego….and they spawn other questions that relate to the self-esteem, self-worth and I am at the point that I just want to fall out of love with this man because that will solve everything; however you can’t hurry love, coming or going. If I no longer care about him and his welfare….then I will no longer care why he did the shit he did. I will be able to see him and it will mean no more than passing an old friend on the street, and if he is sick….I will not feel it is not on me to be the good guy and try to save the day. Once I fall out of love with him….it just won’t matter. Right now, all I hear is how it is his loss, but all I feel is that it is my loss; I want to be able to say that phrase and actually believe it.

So this is where I need to concentrate on me…..I am an amazing, awesome woman who really is beautiful and sexy and wonderful and I do offer so many things to so many people.  I am smart, funny, completely single ( no children, pets or roommates) and willing to do the maintenance to tuck the emotional baggage and issues away somewhere. I need to believe it, accept it and act like it. After all, he and his treatments and opinions of me  is one versus a thousand and I am sticking with the majority.


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