I take pride in being fair when I write, in presenting the arguments and in not writing from anger. Still, I cannot deny there is hostility in my heart. I carry a rage against XBFJ that stands in direct conflict with all of my well wishes. I want him to be happy. I want him to find something he loves to do and I want him to be successful at it. The ugly truth is I also want to inflict pain upon him. I would stand beside him against most others, because I am fiercely loyal. But once all foes were vanquished, he would still have me to fear. It's as honest as I can be. But I am getting ahead of myself. Let me bring you to where my feelings reside.
17 December 2010XBFJ came over to get the last of his stuff. He rented a car and I sat in it as he went up to my place, took the liberty of looking around, took further liberty with my snacks, and loaded. We went to his place, where he unloaded. All the while we talked about life and how different it was and how we might interact in the future and how it was going to be odd, but manageable. As he was bringing me back to work, he (as delicately as he could) told me about his new girlfriend.
It was a kick to the gut. I wanted to vomit. He asked why I was angry. The truth was, I wasn't. I wasn't crying out of anger. I was hurt. We were together nearly eight years. Four months later he has a girlfriend. Excuse me, one month after he's out of my apartment, he has a new girlfriend. Obviously our relationship was not as remarkable for him as it was for me. And that had always been an insecurity of mine, that I loved him more than he loved me. My fear had been that he was using me. On that night, it was realized. I saw everything differently. I felt the fool. And as punishment, I let the feeling come.
I replayed everything through a different filter. Remember how I'd felt sad for him, making this decision? Remember how I'd worried about him. Remember how I tried to explain his reasoning for dumping me? Remember how I told people not to wish him harm or actually harm him?
Mister "I need to stand on my own two" was already horizontal with (and admittedly inside of) someone else.
I felt insignificant. He told me he didn't like hiding things from me, that as friends he wanted to be honest. To his credit, his timing was proper, since I was about to go home for Christmas. He knew I would want to cry to mom and he was right. It's unfair that he knows me like I thought I knew him.
He maintains he never used me. Kate doesn't think he did either. But the evidence suggests otherwise.
He says he didn't want to be with me for the last year. First of all, is there a reason to tell me that? Really? I mean if he'd already decided to be a deceptive secret keeper, it seems like that's something he could keep to himself. He didn't want me before Joel came to live with us. Seems like he made that decision right when he got a job. Read: I was adequate until he had his own income.
He knew what he didn't like about us and he did not make a serious effort to fix it. To him, we were not worth saving. He didn't let on to me what was bothering him. He says he thought he would be able to deal with it. Forever. I have a role in this. It takes two for a relationship to fail. I don't blame him entirely for the problems we had. But if I had known how he felt, I would have done things differently.
He moved on really fast. Adam and Amber met the new girlfriend. Six weeks after the initial dumping and three weeks after he said "we're broken up," he introduced his best friend to his new gal. He says (when I bring this up to him, because I do) that I don't know the circumstances. I don't see how they're relevant, though I would be all ears if he wanted to share. He does not.
The Anger Arrives
When you really think about it, while we were sharing an apartment, there was already someone else. When he refused to give me back his keys, there was already someone else. When he came over and expected me to help him pack, there was already someone else.
And we mussn't forget the lies. The "I need to work on me." and the "I have to learn to be a grown up." It's worse because I fell for it. I felt sad that he was so confused, that he had to be alone to sort things out. I felt sad that I couldn't help him.
You should know after all was said and done, he would tell me it was actually all my fault. That he started drinking because of me, that I was a miserable person and that, try as he might, his angelic attempts to make everything right weren't enough for the monster that is me. (Adjectives added but the idea is the same.)
In processing this, I found myself embittered. I found he was a stranger. He was a man who had come into my life. He was someone who used me and discarded me. It is a horrible feeling to know you really tried and that someone could forget you so easily. It's a wretched, wretched realization that for a year, you were the only one invested. I was a fool. He made a fool of me. And though I have forgiven, there is no forgetting that.
So I write with venom because it is deserved. For half truths and full lies, for disrespect and blame that is heaped when it should be shared, I am venomous.
What bothers me most is that it's not fair. I wanted to be in love. I wanted to have someone. I wanted to be touched in a familiar way and held as special. And he gets that. He gets to be loved not once, but twice over to my zero. Because now I don't know if he really loved me. He who wanted to "stand on his own two" gets what I tried to have. And of all the things that I have to come accept, this is the hardest. It's not because he doesn't deserve it; everyone deserves to be loved. It's that he said he didn't want it. And I did. I do. And I'll have it. I know that. My time with Jesse is over. I'm more than okay with that.
Based on my new list of criteria, he wouldn't make the cut anyway.