I hate you Desire

My heart is completely crushed. This I’ll likely not mend from easily, not like last time. I can’t focus. If I slow down, I’ll think about him and the lies he has told, the things he has done, over the years. I’ve been cleaning my apartment like a madwoman, throwing so much crap away- an attempt to shed myself of the past by ridding myself of material rubbish. I feel so much emptiness inside. I spent half of Monday putting away items from decades ago that just don’t fit on my bookshelf, clearing dust. Yesterday, after going three days on six hours of sleep, I changed my phone number. I couldn’t deal with the bullshit. He had told me Sunday he didn’t want to be with me, that he did not love me even though he told me on three separate occasions that he did and that I should forget him. He then proceeded to call within an hour of my going to sleep to ‘remind me’ that he didn’t love me, that he didn’t want me to call, that he would not listen to my messages and would simply delete my voicemails, then ramble on about how he ‘likes me, but doesn’t love me,’ to say ‘hi’ to my family, no wait, don’t. Then, “Maybe I’ll ‘check you out’ in a couple years” & “I hope you’ll do alright.”

I admit I became very upset when he began to push me away right after he told me he loved me, right after we had (I thought??) decided to be a couple. We started seeing each other only about six weeks ago, but I’ve known him for many years and I’ve seen him in the past. The first night we were together, I wasn’t sure about continuing to see him, but he persisted in calling and asking to come over so I relented and then he got into my heart. I did the whole pulling away thing first- but I wasn’t mean or cruel about it when he called wanting to know why I hadn’t called!

The night we decided to be together was my birthday, after a week of almost no contact. He had called earlier in the week and told me he wasn’t blowing me off, don’t worry and that he loved me. Then no calls, shows up on my birthday, we talked about what we were doing and I told him I didn’t want to get too serious but didn’t want just a fling either. He agreed. My birthday was great.

Then I don’t get a call at all for over a week, only one text to say he was thinking about me a couple days later, then I sent him a text because I was upset about the actions of an ex that I could not do anything about, and he breaks it off in a text, then the next day calls me and tells me very harshly that he does not love me, we’re not a couple, not to go looking for ‘love’ from him because I won’t find it. I do not even want to repeat his exact words because they hurt so much. He then calls back an hour later and apologizes for the way he acted and I hung up. I then began to have the worst panic attack I’ve ever had and thought I was having a stroke. I couldn’t barely speak or dial my phone; my words were coming out wrong. I sent him a text via speech to text and it came out jumbled. He called me and yelled at me before I could tell him that I thought there was something wrong with me. When I told him that I thought I had a stroke he acted like he couldn’t be bothered. Fortunately for me it wasn’t!

How could someone be so hot and then so cold? I’ve read all about how men pull away because they’re afraid they’ll ‘lose’ their independence and ability to hang with the guys, go fishing, do what they want basically. There is a website where you can go and read all about this. This guy actually counsels women on how not to be needy. Okay. Question. How is it ‘needy’ to want to know what the $&%^ is happening in your relationship? Are you supposed to be a mind reader? You mean to tell me that every woman who has a guy pull away is supposed to sit patiently at home while these guys get their heads on straight? How the flip is that fair? What about when we get scared? What happened to communicating? Shouldn’t you advocate communication with a potential partner over head games? It is extremely hurtful and upsetting not knowing where I stand with someone I love, calling them and having it go to voicemail, sending a text and not hearing back from them. Sure, it is great when they do reply. But you’ve got guys thinking it’s okay to dictate dating etiquette. No, it’s really NOT okay to keep a woman waiting. She has her own life to live, there could be that great guy who really will love her around the corner and you may just be hanging her up because of your selfish indecision!

Don’t get me wrong, I have done no contact before. I stopped talking to this same guy for months. Then I called him again and he was very happy to talk to me, or so I thought. I hate hurting people. I’d rather be honest and tell them that I do not know how I feel and they shouldn’t wait rather than tell them that I love them when I don’t know how I feel. I try to put myself in the others person’s shoes whenever possible.

Am I the easiest person to get along with? No. When someone hurts me, my first response is to lash out. I am human. Second is to cry.

Right now, I ache. This hurts. It is not what I planned on doing for my summer. As I was cleaning my living room yesterday, I had a rather large number of empty boxes stacked up on my couch. It almost looked like I was getting ready to move. I wish. I suppose the best thing would be to remove myself from this island at this point. I really miss Trinity. 😦 I kept thinking how easy it would be at that point to just pack up everything I’d just sorted… I can dream!

The thing I’m most upset about right now is, even after everything he’s said and done that has hurt me, I still desire him above all else. I hate you, desire!

Domestic Violence

SAD

Too many disappointments have been reaped from a sorrow-filled life…

Too many tears I have shed, for a man who called me his wife.

Often I wonder what all this is for,

Why is this load so heavy to bear?

Why am I trying so hard?

It doesn’t seem to matter anymore.

Although I have come a long way,

From the misery of before,

Still I have to wonder,

What am I here for?

 

PLEASE UNDERSTAND

Please understand:

It wasn’t just the bruises that hurt.

It was the shame,

It was and is the names.

I was sinking,

Still do sometimes…

So low.

I feel I cannot live carrying this knowledge… must relieve it, but…

I don’t know how…

I sink…

I cry, give my soul to all the world.

Few can understand my plight.

Or could back then, either…

No one can fathom…

My psychology…

How helpless I felt .

I could not emotionally survive without him…

I could not save myself…

I turned on myself…

Blamed myself.

Excused him…

At times, how I loved him! Oh it was higher than the sky!

How I hated him, at others…

Then, confusion…

Then,

Vengeful…

Most of all,

Feeling, once more,

self-blame,

at the same time,

as Hate.

A cycle.

 

Short Story~ Grace by Violet Yates

I had always pictured Chris and I together forever. Nothing could ever break us apart, not even time. But one day, things just sort of dissolved, until I woke and there was nothing left. I sat and studied his face for hours while he slept the day before I left, searching for find a resemblance to the man I loved. I saw a stranger.

So I left. Yes, there were times I looked back. I had to. But not because I regretted leaving-rather, because I wanted to know what I’d done wrong, so I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. At least my part was covered that way. I only had to find someone who didn’t have too many faults of his own.

We met for coffee a few weeks after the split. Chris had called me and wanted to talk.

I pushed my way into the café, scanning the area for Chris. Spying him in the corner, I walked over to him and after we had greeted one another, took a seat on a vinyl-covered chair.

I told the waitress I wanted a light, decaf, with no sugar. Chris raised his brows, and with a pleasant smile, he said, “Oh, are we on a diet?”

“No, but I’m trying to live a healthier lifestyle now.”

“Why? You weren’t ever concerned with that before.”

“Well, I just figured…” I trailed of, not knowing how to complete the thought without hurting him. Instead of going on, I fiddled with a coffee stirrer.

“What?” Chris asked.

“Nothing. Never mind. So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Us. This change I see in you, in the kids, in everything. Oh, I don’t know. I guess I just want to know what happened.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Why, Grace? Why did you leave? You never told me why, not even when I asked. You just left. Was it me? Did I do something?”

“Okay. Money. It was the money.”

“What money? We never had any.”

“Exactly. I couldn’t keep up. You were so hungry, there was never enough for the rest of us.”

“And now?”

I shrugged. At least now, I had no one to be angry at. If I was broke, it was because there really wasn’t enough money. Not that it got squandered on meaningless things, like jet skis and boats. Before, it was all I could do not to explode every time I balanced the checkbook. We had a good income between us, and I was always waiting for things to even out, for him to stop wanting this, or that, for the bills to get caught up and to feel secure for once. But as the years sped by, it was only more of the same, until I couldn’t handle it anymore. I left, and I took the kids with me.

“What about this… change? Grace, was there someone else?”

As I shook my head, I thought of the times I had wished there was, just to take the edge off of my irritation towards Chris. Truly, I don’t think I could have done something like that. Not that I wasn’t attracted towards other men at times. It just wouldn’t work.

The waitress brought us our coffees, and we sat stirring for several minutes. I thought of odd, comforting remembrances, such as the times we would argue, then I would drink, and the next day, we would make up by making love and going out to eat. This often happened when the money was low, and a bill would have to be paid late so we could afford such an extravagance.

Each time we would get a lump of money, like when we filed taxes and got a refund, we would sit and talk about what we wanted to do with it. Chris always had high dreams about his share of it (we usually split it up, so that each member of our family got an ‘equal’ amount). The problem was, Chris always wanted the big ‘toys,’ so if he went over on his estimation, as he invariably did nearly every time, it would cut into mine and the kids’ shares.

“Are you happy?” Chris asked.

“For the most part, yes.”

“And the kids, are they content?”

“Ask them, Chris. Don’t ask me.”

A pained look creased Chris’ forehead, and he exclaimed, “How do you sleep at night?”

It was then that I noticed the dark rings under his eyes.

“Sleep?”

“Alone? How do you do it?”

“I don’t know. I just do.”