Conflicted


Today is a strange day…it is cloudy but warm and humid. The air is thick and still, rain threatening and even the meteorologists are calling for storms. I was supposed to get up and go get my main/pedi today, but decided against it. I have gotten the majority of my errands taken care of since my last blog post and even the laundry is done. The house is clean enough I suppose (I would not turn away unexpected company) and I plan to cook something at some point by the time Monday arrives. I have been reading the Hunger Games trilogy (on Book 3  now…read Book 2 in less than a day) while  I try to organize and arrange my thoughts for the blog post born of a great suggestion.

Except those thoughts bring up thoughts of him, of my ambivalent, conflicted feelings…feelings that have no outlet except this blog, where I write the letters him will never see or read. The letters where I let him know all that I know and I gloat even when I say I am not. Yet even then, in all my gloating and quasi-hatred, my love shines through but  I refuse to beg the man back and him is not coming back proclaiming undying love…no, I get second-hand stories that I refuse to reach out over because despite what is happening, how he looks and him’s lack of direct communication (which tells me so much more)…I have to go by actions this time and his actions (or lack thereof) show me where he wants to be and who he wants to be with.

I miss him today, but now my missing him has become complicated: I miss him…then I wonder if what I miss, what I remember was really as great as I think it was. I do that you know…I build things up, put people on pedestals and really…it is all so undeserving. Then I get angry at myself for still missing him, for still wondering when I am moving on and supposedly progressing and him moved on a long time ago, if ever he were here.  I looked at pictures of him today, and the differences between then and now are so evident. One of the photos was taken the day of his wedding…of course, him did not give it to me… I snatched it while Facebook stalking so long ago. I make no apologies for that…I was out of my mind with hurt and pain and questions. It has been a long time since I shed tears over this photo…and today was no different. No tears. He looked older, thinner and while there was a smile on his lips there was none in his eyes….and that is when the anger and ambivalence began. I say I want to be able to talk with him, but that is not entirely true. I also want to scream at him, yell at him and punch him. I want him to know that the pain he inflicted still comes and goes and at times, it is as piercing as when it first happened and I want him to feel it also. I say I want him to be happy…and I do but I also want him to acknowledge the happiness he had with me. I say I am moving on…and I am, but I still feel as if I am holding onto him as I do so. Is this making sense to anyone but me?

Why, after all this time and after all I have went though emotionally with this man am I still so eager to give him a leg up and a hand out? Him certainly had no problems telling me no and denying me when I was in need and we were supposedly together or at the very least, really good friends. And I can honestly say I may be one of two people who truly cared for him who did not have a hand out or an eye on his wallet.   The man had no problem giving ALL who cared about his well-being his ass to kiss, and I still ask myself why do I still hold so much love and caring for him even now when I say I am ready to prepare myself further for someone new? Why hasn’t the process which has done such wonderful things with me and my self-everythings been able to conquer this stupid hold? It is not as prevalent or as consistent, but every once in awhile, it rises up to let me know that no, it was not the healthiest relationship and not all I thought it was, but that I love(d) him not only because of but also in spite of. Not good for a girl wanting to tell the world all she is looking for in another but when I think of what I want next time around, all I can do is think of what made the great times with him so great.

But we are moving forward into a new chapter…time to pull on big girl panties and leave speculations and questions where they are. Face the facts that form the present reality: he lied, led me on and holds no remorse or regret for his treatment of me. Him could not, did not treat me or my love as special except when we were naked…he utterly rejected me and completely embraced and devoted himself to another. Time to be truthful and admit that this missive is the result of the part of me that still clings to a shred of hope…that him will see, him will realize and make the necessary changes so I don’t have to exert more efforts with someone new. The part of me that doesn’t want to get over him even though I already know that even if there were no BTH, it would be someone else or something else that drives him away and leaves me hurt and bewildered. And we are working on that part.

My newfound peace and happiness shines through and dissipates that part of me much as sun breaks through clouds. The New Me has no time to view wreckage and try to piece the past back together…she wants to see what is ahead of her and who will be next on her dance card. The New Me even knows (somewhat) what she wants in this man and what she wants out of the relationship and she will tell us in my next blog post.

 

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