#509 The Healing Begins.

Ok, now I'm mad.

He probably thinks his nose is clean because he never made any commitments to me, and made it clear that he was not in commitment mode. Although he signed his cards "With Love", he told me he loved me only twice, and then he was careful to add "but not as much as you want". He said things like "I didn't want to say it because you would make more of it than it is." So he probably thinks he was clear and definite. Aboveboard. Never misled me.

Is he really unaware that actions speak louder than words? All those times when it was so obvious that he was truly happy to see me? When I got buried in huge hugs? All the kisses on the top of my head in public places? All that pressing against cars in restaurant parking lots when we were going home separately after a dinner? The "with love" cards? The times when we had a bad spot, and the next time he saw me he'd rush to me and wrap me in his arms, and say he'd been worried about me? When he tried to make my birthday special (which incidentally, is the day after hers, near the end of October)? All those sweet sweet kisses? When I said goodbye to him at the airport in August (two separate sets of goodbyes), when he held me like he was reluctant to leave, and others there thought we were having such great difficulty tearing ourselves away from each other? When he held my thigh possessively when we sat next to each other in restaurants and at Mensa events, until I asked him not to? The time he teleported himself across a classroom because he thought I might be ill? When he seemed to need and appreciate my love? Does he really think that meant nothing to me? I was aware he had been emotionally battered over the past few years. I naturally assumed he was just being cautious. He kept telling me that he wanted to know "the real me", that he didn't want me to show one side and then change later. Another indication to me that he was being cautious, but was truly interested in me.

So no, he wasn't being clear and definite. He was being devious and cruel. And it was very unfair of him to put me in the position he ultimately did, which guaranteed he'd see my worst side, the jealousy, anger, frustration, and bitterness, and then judge me on that. Especially since she doesn't know about me, so she's still all sweetness. Very unfair. (I'm willing to bet that she sensed his attention drifting back in the beginning, and became sweeter to pull him back.)

Another thing to be angry about is that a few weeks ago, I asked him that if we ever decided not to "see" each other again, that we talk about it in person, not by email or telephone. He said of course, that he would owe me at least that courtesy, that consideration. Those were just about his exact words. He reacted like it was a given. Like how could I think he'd do otherwise. So how did he tell me that he wants to "take a break"? By telephone. So much for courtesy and consideration "owed". He owes me a lot more than that! (Heh. Maybe this means we're not really parting ways, huh? Just a recess, maybe, because he hasn't made it official by saying it in person? Bull poopy.)

In the previous entry I mentioned a friend who had told me about the other woman in mid-October. Another friend who was concerned about me had him investigated, and although this person gave me no details then, just dropped a lot of hints, I was very strongly warned against involvement with him. That was late October, when he was still romancing me, and I couldn't believe otherwise. I guess I have some people around me who care. (On the other hand, friends warned me against Jay, too, and their fears proved groundless.)

And yes, I did go back for the details, later. When it hurt too much not knowing for sure. And I didn't tell Roman all I knew. I needed to hear it from him. So I kept things from him, too, but ironically it was the same things he was keeping from me.

There's one more thing. Among all these facts, this one thing, a mere suspicion, supported by absolutely nothing, hurts the most and makes me most angry. I had brought home two soft purple teddy bears from Daughter's birthday party, and I gave one of them to him. He said he'd never had a teddy bear before and seemed tickled. He put it on top of the microwave, right next to his back door. It was there during my next three visits or so, and then it disappeared. He says he has no idea what happened to it, that perhaps a guest of his housemate had taken it. Or maybe he took it upstairs to his room and misplaced it. The housemate, when asked, said he noticed it was missing one day, too, but that he didn't see how anyone could have taken it. Well, the date it disappeared coincides pretty neatly with what I later found out to be her birthday. The day before mine. The thought that he may have given the bear to her hurts. The idea that I would actually suspect him of that hurts even more to admit. He mostly didn't tell me the whole truth about a lot of things, but at least he never actually lied to me either. The suspicion that he may have lied about this hurts most of all, because then I have to wonder if I ever knew him at all. I gave him a piece of me. I don't want him giving her a piece of me. I want that bear back.

Why am I putting this into a public journal?

Because, if given the opportunity, I may backslide. And if I am tempted, I need to know that you, my friends and family, will slap me soundly upside the head. Repeatedly, if necessary.