angst

But it’s not.  I’m re-reading pamie’s book right now.  It’s 2 in the morning and I have to be at work in six hours, but I’m in bed, crying once again over this book.  It’s helping me make peace with things I guess.  I’m too cheap to go back to therapy, especially when I hate so much the idea of paying someone to listen to me go on and on about myself.  So I read and take what I can get from these fictitious characters who are sort of feeling exactly what I’m feeling.  There’s something cathartic about finding a character that you identify with; one who has similar motivations and pains.

I don’t like going to his house.  I don’t like knowing that that house is surviving without me.  I don’t like seeing how things have changed since my departure.  That his life goes on and that he has new things on the walls.  (Except he doesn’t.  My father’s paintings and photographs are still up.  As are the pictures we had taken of the baby when he was just born.  Including shots of me.)

It bothers me, it even hurts me to know that he’s moved on.  Even though I told him to, even though this is how I wanted it.  Even though I have no desire at all to be with him again, it bothers me to know that he has Someone Else.  It angers me.  I am so, so angry when I see them together.  Uncontrollably angry.  I’m not sure exactly why yet, but I have a growing list of possible reasons.  I keep track of these reasons because I’m tired of feeling this way.  I don’t want to be angry.  I want to be able to put some positive energy into my own life and relationships.

1. As I mentioned in a previous entry, I am jealous that someone wants him and no one wants me.  I am starting to feel pretty.  And I am starting to believe that when men who I have awesome chemistry with don’t want me, it’s their loss.  But still it hurts to know that it was so “easy” for him.  I feel like I felt back in high school, when none of the boys asked me out.  Ever.  Do you know that I’ve never been on a date?  Never.  Prom was not a date.  Dating happens between two people who might kiss.  My prom dates were never boys I had the opportunity to kiss.
2. After all this time, he really is the only one here who knows certain things about me.  I had a Serious Thing happen this week and he was the only one who really understood how serious.  But he isn’t my friend.  I can’t tell him things.  He doesn’t care to support me emotionally anymore.  I’m no longer mourning the loss of my marriage, but now I’m kind of hurting for the friend that I once had.  It’s lonely over here.

Incidentally, I DID tell him about the Serious Thing.  I cried.  He moved closer to me because his normal reaction would have been to hold me.  But he stopped himself.  Because we are not friends.  Neither of us knows how to do that, so we don’t.

Back to number one and the fact that I haven’t dated – no wonder I feel so awful about myself.  I jump into bed with men.  Move in with them.  Get married, have kids.  But I don’t date.  I don’t know how to.  And now that no one is making a move to date me, I feel so rejected, which makes the thing where the ex is getting regular sex, that much more painful.

It really can’t get much worse from here.  Well no, I realize it can.  It can get much, much worse.  But my non-existent love life?  That’s got to improve soon.  I’m sure.

It was a weird weekend and I can’t say exactly why.  Well, I can technically I guess.  I didn’t hear from him the entire weekend.  From friday evening when I said goodbye to him at the bar we both ended up in after work, to Monday morning.  Zero contact.  No texting, no IM, no email.  Nothing.  I emailed him Friday night more than once.  None of my emails were questions, but still.  I can’t tell you when the last time we went an entire weekend with zero contact.

When I realized he hadn’t answered me Saturday, I decided not to email anymore.

I don’t know what to make of it.

Also from today -

me: what’s that on your neck?

him: not a hickey.

He answered quickly, no time to pretend or deny or whatever.  So no, not a hickey, I’m sure.

I put an intention out to the universe last week.  In writing.  “I will go on a proper date.  This month.”  It was Wednesday when I wrote these words down and sent them to my girlfriends.

Friday night I decided to run the stairs near my house.  129 of them.  Ten times.  Have I mentioned that I am not a small girl?  Anyhow I ran the stairs.  And when I was done I did some wall squats and stretched on the grass nearby.  As I was stretching I noticed a car passing.  These particular stairs are situated behind a stripmall.  No one drives back there, especially at 8PM on friday night.  That back driveway is pretty much reserved for delivery trucks, as it provides access to the loading bays of the stores at this end of the strip mall.

I stretch some more.  Do some crunches.  Push-ups.  You know the drill.  Vehicle circles back around.  I realize it’s the mall security guy.  Since there were no cars back there I never bothered to properly park my car in a stall.  I just sort of pulled it over to the side and left it there, at the base of the stairs.

So I thought I was going to get in trouble for parking my car in not a stall.  As I went to the car to try and avoid getting in trouble, because I’m dorky that way, he comes back.  Rolls down his window.  Stops at my car.  And then he proceeded to tell me about how he was watching some kids and making sure they weren’t about to graffiti up the building, because that’s what they do, those kids from up the hill.

Thirty minutes later I had learned that he was a special olympics volunteer, that he was with a woman for 5.5 years.  That he ruined that relationship buy buying an awesome sound system for exactly the same price as the engagement ring that she wanted.  That he met his next gf on the internet and that it wasn’t working out.  (This is where I realized it was a pickup).  That he was born into the hell’s angels.  That he goes to the tattoo show every year.  (I did not tell him I skate – we have a track set up at the tattoo fest and if he really does go, he’d know that.)  He has two kids.  When he realized I truly wasn’t interested, he told me about some girl in Malaysia who is saving herself for him.  Because he’s that great.  Maybe I was supposed to be impressed by that?  I wasn’t.

So in the pro column, I went out alone, did something I enjoyed, got exercise, AND met a man.  In the con column:  Dating is a scary world.  One that is full of men that I feel absolutely no attraction for.

One little thing set me off today.  Well no, it was a series of little things.  But this is a pattern with me.  Something is said.  It affects me negatively, and then I spend the day thinking about it, or not thinking about it, and then it comes back into my brain again and again.  Just works its way back in.

Basically I’m fine.  I’ve been doing well.  I’ve been feeling good and not crazy.  And then this thing happened and I can’t control my thoughts and I’m fixating on beating myself down.  All I can think about is how I’m ugly and fat and not good enough.  And these negative thoughts take over and fester and holy fuck I had mcdonalds for dinner.  mcdonalds.  When there’s a perfectly good pot of veg chili in my fridge.

And I tell myself that how I react to what happened is within my control.  What he did or didn’t do, I can’t control that, but how I respond and how I let my thoughts go on and on and SHUT UP ALREADY, that’s all within my reach.  And when I return to my senses I realize that this is me overreacting, but when you’re right here in the middle of this crazy time, there’s no backing down or talking yourself down from wherever it is I’m perched.  There’s just me being pissed off and feeling shitty.

At least I told him.  I could have told him sooner, like when it was happening, but I was afraid I’d come off as mega monster crazy woman who is uber jealous.  And I don’t even think it’s jealousy.  It’s something else.  It might be jealousy.  The root of it might be jealousy.  In which case I’ve just outed myself.  But seriously.  Getting distracted every three sentences or so because a hot woman walks by?  I have every reason to feel disrespected.  Which turns into me feeling shitty and awful and ugly and fat and severely unworthy.

This is going to help me get over the ridic. crush though.  I hope.

I’m not one of those new agey people.  I don’t visit psychics.  I’ve never had my tarot cards read.  I don’t even read my horoscope.  At the beginning of the year I talked about intentions and how I might believe in them, at least enough to sit down and write an entry about what I wanted to put out there this year, but that was about as new age as I get.

“Put out there”?  I’ve always really thought it was hokey.  Putting stuff out to the universe, as if some sort of force were taking into account all of these wishes and spitting them back out into tangible results.  Does the force assess the outcome before spitting stuff out?  Does it consider how my wish will affect someone else?  I dunno.  But I do know that everytime I say the words “put it out to the universe” out loud, I chuckle inside, because really?  I don’t actually believe the universe is listening.

Except today I remembered something:  When I was in therapy with my husband we had to talk about relationships and our expectations.  We had to come up with what we thought the ideal relationship looked like.  What we wanted out of our relationship.  I wish I wrote it down so I’d be able to get back to exactly what it was I was thinking.  However I know a few specifics that I noted:  I desire a man who trusts me.  Who does not expect me to share every. little. detail.  I do not want to feel like I’ve got to tell him what I did with every minute of the day, lest he suspect that I was cheating on him in that unaccounted for bit of time.  I want a man who I am seriously attracted to.  Whose ass I want to grab.  Who I am still attracted to a few years into the relationship.

I want a man who understands me.  Who knows when to back off.  Who doesn’t feel the need to attend every social function with me.  Who doesn’t expect to sleep in my bed every night.  In fact, I’d like it if he went home every night.

And then we get to the part that is most familiar:  I do not want to hold hands.  I do not want to cuddle.  I do not want to hug all the time.

We did a lot of talking about what I find attractive in a man, and why my husband isn’t attractive to me.  So obviously, i picked out traits that are opposite to him:  I do not like feelings.  No feelings.  No crying.  No sensitive innards.  I want a little bit of indifference.  I like it when I feel like I have to work for his attention.  And yes, this part is a little messed up.  And yeah, it has plenty to do with my relationship with my father.

So what do you know?  It turns out I got exactly what I asked for.  A man I am insanely attracted to, who isn’t holding my hand, kissing or cuddling me.  Who gets me so worked up when he’s moved to become passionate about anything.  (when he gets pissed off I want to jump him.)  Who hides his feelings behind walls.  Who speaks my language.

Exactly what I ordered.

I am going to read the menu a little closer this time.

Tonight we went to a concert.  Together.

He did not kiss me.

So I realize how this looks:  First I write about how much fun we had that night we went to the bar and hung out and got high and went to eat chinese, getting me home at around 4 in the morning.  Then I go on and on about how jealous I am because some little asian twat from the coast comes over to visit him and blah blah blah.  When I wrote that I was *sure* they were having mad sex all over his apartment.

(FYI he did let me know that they did not sleep together.  He worked it in all nonchalant.  Because normally we do not discuss the sex that may or may not go on over weekends.  I mean really, we never say “hey how was your weekend?  I didn’t have sex.”  But because (and of course I may be reading into this) he knew that I didn’t want to know if he did have sex, I’m guessing he figured out that if he didn’t have sex YES I would love to know that for a fact, he told me.)  So yes, no sex.  Also and really this is totally as awkward as it sounds:  I asked him if he is in love with her.  (to illustrate the crazy, his response to that was “in love with who?”)  So no, not in love.

And then last weekend happens.  And true to the pattern, it was fantastic.

Friday night I had dinner with him and his friends.  Then I went out with my girlfriends and had the Best Time Ever at karaoke.  The next morning he picked me up early at my place (with coffee!) and we went snowboarding.  On the way back I exclaimed that I was hungry.  Ten minutes later he said he was too.  Did he realize I was trying to have dinner with him?  I’m starting to believe the theory that he really *is* as dumb as we suspect he is.

WAIT WAIT hold on because we have newsbreaking stories rolling in here as. I. type.  Every night I talk to crushboy online.  Every night.  We have an unwritten online date every night at 10.  Except for weekends when every0ne is allowed to do whatever and no one really had to explain themselves.  Except normally we do anyways, because there isn’t much explaining to do.  So it’s sunday night and I’m on my standard 10PM date.  Which, now that I check the log, STARTED AT TWELVE MINUTES AFTER TEN.  I am not imagining this time.  We have a date.  It starts at 10.  End of story.  Whatever you wanted to do tonight, get it done now because ten is when we start our chitchat.  No earlier because that just keeps both of us from being productive all night.

For real, yo.  We both are kind of in the habit of not turning the thing on until ten.  Yet we’ve never actually discussed the rules that surround our “agreement.”

Anyhow, we are talking tonight and I’m talking and he’s not answering for oh, I dunno, a minute?  When my phone goes off.  Text.  From him.  Dude.  He TEXTED ME TO TELL ME THAT HIS INTERNET CONNECTION CRAPPED OUT.  Are you kidding me?  He’s polite and shit?  Most of my other friends would just drop it and let me assume that you lost your connection.  I know better than to think he just hung up on me.

Back to Saturday I guess.  We had dinner.  Well no, we didn’t just have dinner.  First you have to understand that my apartment is kind of at the edge of town.  When one returns from the skihill that we went to, my apartment is the first stop.  That’s pretty much why I can always scam a ride to the skihill.  That’s also specifically why I was OK with living all the way out here.  So instead of dropping me at home and making me drive all over the place to meet him for dinner, he asked me if it was ok if we ate way up north, (OK, sure, more time in the car with you, cute cute boy…)

As it turns out, this particular restaurant no longer existed at the location he was looking for.  So we had to drive downtown to visit their other location.  Downtown.  That’s like twenty minutes away, maybe thirty.

He took me home.  He had a party to go to that night.  I was asleep by 9.

The next morning he invited me to breakfast.  Now, keep in mind that his friends were all hungover from the party.  So really he had no one else available to him.  Plus I was online.  I doubt that he would have picked up the phone and directly invited me out for breakfast.  Normally this is something reserved for his male counterparts, so it was kind of a big deal to me that he invited me to breakfast.

After that we went back to his place…

And did not have sex.  We hung out.  I spent the day with him.  We had to pick up a friend of his.  We had a good time.

He also told me that he considered calling me Saturday night to see if I needed a driver.  How sweet is that?  Except you’re right.  He didn’t.  Minus whatever sweet points I considered giving him just then.

I went home in the late afternoon.

The week was good except for the fact that he’s likely taking a new job (elsewhere) soon and said job will take him to That Other County which will not be named, because really too many facts and this all becomes highly googlable.

I had a point back there when I started this entry.  It was to say basically that you should not take my weekend drama all that seriously because I am aware of the fact that I tend to have a shit weekend one week and an OMGICANTBELIEVETHATJUSTHAPPENED weekend the next.

It takes very little to convince me that I am unattractive.  Fuck hormones and self-confidence and the voices inside.

So the crush has a guest this weekend. Uh huh you heard me. She lives elsewhere and she invited herself on his fb wall which kind of says to me that they don’t talk all that much.

Anyhow. The last time I talked to him was the morning the day she got here. She leaves tomorrow. I am not dealing well with this.

Keep in mind I have no confirmation that they are messing around. Also I clearly told him that if they do have sex I do not want to know. Crystal clear I think.

And then today my son told me that his father’s gf has moved in. Because kids, they say random shit. I did not ask him. I do not ask him stuff like that, for real.

So again with the not dealing well.

And then I went to get coffee this afternoon.  I got out of my car, walked towards the coffee shop, and realized the my ex husband, his (married) girlfriend and my son were walking towards the same coffee shop.  I stopped, hesitated for a second, and turned around.  got back in the car.  I’m sure they saw me.  My son didn’t, but the other two I am SURE.  There’s no way they could have missed me.

you know that feeling, kind of anxious and freaked out and you want to barf but it all might be totally unwarranted?  I have that now.  Hopefully by the end of the day there will be more to this entry.