I feel strange. It feels strange to be relieved, while I am in such shit. I wonder, shouldn’t I be crying? Shouldn’t I be… walking around the house without purpose, looking for nothing, doing nothing, not knowing what to do with myself? Shouldn’t I break into tears after listening to ‘I will always love you’ by Whitney Houston?! I’ve been doing those things for a couple of weeks already, and now it’s suddenly gone. Maybe I have no more tears left. I feel like… a way that I haven’t felt in a long time. Back to normal, though that sounds weird. I’ve hooked up my hard disk and am listening to music. Nothing strange, you would say, but I haven’t done that in quite some time. I haven’t had the need to loose myself in my music. I didn’t even remember what it was that I did, sitting with that laptop evening after evening, sometimes until 4 in the morning. Something had changed, and now when I’m thinking about it… purpose. There was always a purpose to be online, lately, or to not be online. MM… was the reason I would log in, or not log in if I knew he wouldn’t be there. He was the reason to keep my mailbox open, to check my phone every couple of minutes. I don’t do any of those things now. I have picked up old habits without really noticing it. I was up until 4-ish last night, listening to music and trying to write.
I don’t understand my own behaviour… well I haven’t done much today, hung around the house, was bored, too grumpy to do anything. That I can understand.
Again, I am typing and deleting. Everything I’m writing turns into explanations. I don’t know if MM is reading this. I had closed my blog for some time and I have no idea if he has seen that it’s open now. I can’t write down my thoughts while I keep wondering if he might read it… one of the mistakes I made with him, is that I often said what I thought he would want to hear. To make him feel good. If he would feel good, he would like me better… he would love me more… I want to write what I am thinking without considering who might read it!
I am dissecting my own mind, trying to find the reasons behind my feelings and actions. I understand a little bit more of myself since I got therapy early this year. Some things were shocking, some shameful and some just sad. But it explained some things, too. I am a sucker for attention and I used to pull tricks to get it. That’s behind me now, I found out there are other ways to get attention, and that I won’t die if I don’t get it. But saying things to make someone feel better, in order to keep them close… didn’t work out right.
MM called me the morning after the chat when I confessed the big lie. He’s doubting everything I have ever said, he asked me what value those words have now. What did it mean now when I called him sweetie? What did the poems mean that I wrote to him? It’s the worst thing that can happen… the person you love doubts your words… doubts your feelings, doubts everything. He doubts my whole person, what I am, who I am…. ‘That you are capable of something like that,’ he said about the lie. I am still a little confused about it… ‘that’- is it the lie or the act?
I always knew had a problem with the fact that I was hanging out with some different guys for a while. I wrote about them here too… the Counsellor, the Photographer and the Pretty Boy. It was the time after Mr. D. when I was suddenly relaxed about guys and dating. I had been very uptight about it in the years before, Mr. D. kind of freed me from that – though I want to grant that to myself, not to him. MM can’t deal with the fact that I… slept around. I understand he wouldn’t want a slut for a girlfriend. And I understand that he got a wrong image of me, because he got to know me during that time. He never knew me when I was still hidden under my comfortable stone.
When we were arguing, it seemed he didn’t know me at all. I thought I had told him all there is to know about me. I thought I had warned him for the stupid things I can do… I thought I had it all covered. But it didn’t help. Now I am looking at everything from a whole new perspective, and the things I am writing here now, I didn’t realise before. I’m afraid I gave him a wrong image of me. And when I dared to be myself, it was too late.
(Omg I am so stupid!! The same thing happened with Mr. D.! I also did what I thought he wanted… and when I felt safe with him and became more myself, it went totally wrong. Oh god I am such a stupid moron…)
I wrote a long e-mail to him after the fight. I wrote that I regret that I lied about meeting the Counsellor. I regret the lie, not the fact that it happened. I know it doesn’t sound very… how do you say… regretful. But that’s really how I feel. I shouldn’t have… hidden my doubts about MM, about us. I shouldn’t have said what I thought he wanted to hear, I should have spoken my mind. I haven’t always been honest – not that I lied constantly to him, but I didn’t tell him everything I did, thought and felt. I kept things from him, and I regret that now. I didn’t think it would matter. I didn’t think there would be anything in the future for me with a married father of 3. I meant what I said, I meant every loving word I said and my poems were real. My hopes and dreams were never fake, or lies. I just didn’t say anything about the sadness I felt behind it all. Some sort of constant threat, my expectation that everything would fall apart one day. I would end up alone because he was just going to stay with his wife. I had been saying that since the first couple of e-mails we exchanged through the daing site.
One time, I don’t remember exactly when, he said that I never said that I missed him. I was missing him constantly, sitting alone on the couch sighing. Watching tv without seeing anything, my phone in my hand and one eye on my computer. Seems so… disturbing to constantly whine about that… in the same lines, I didn’t tell him about my constant fear.
A little later, I am reading what I have written. Is this a good self-analysis? Or am I just making up excuses and explanations – once again – for the fact that I slept with one man while I was making another one believe that he was the only one?
I am so shocked that I never realised I was following the same pattern as I did with Mr. D.! Following his lead, was the mistake I made then. I let him make the rules, I just followed them. I didn’t really think that was wrong… but you can’t be one person first and then all of a sudden change into someone else. That didn’t exactly happen with MM, I was mostly myself to him from the beginning on. It’s not what I said, it’s what I didn’t say.
I have been raging for almost two pages now and it took me all evening and part of the night to write, read and re-write… I better go to bed soon.
