Cutting off Contact- AGAIN

I can't say it enough, how baffled I am that we are in this place. I find it immature, inconsiderate, and mostly just bizarre. The total and absolute lack of communication is so... confusing. It's just bizarre. Daniel and I had the most emotionally intimate and communicative relationship I had ever been in. But he won't communicate his needs to me now as a friend or acquaintance or past partner or whatever. Which would eliminate literally all of the drama we have experienced. ELIMINATE IT. There would be no drama! Why is there all of this unnecessary heart ache? This is so ridiculous!

Since Tootie died, I have had a huge resurgence of anxiety. I miss him, I feel terrible about what happened, and I have had some low level recurrence of my PTSD symptoms. I also started having some pretty awful stomach pains, which my initial thought might be kidney stones or gallstones,and after an ultrasound and exam and trying out some medication, we have decided it is gastritis brought on by stress. The pain started right after Tootie died. That I could be so physically affected makes me sad also.

Last night I could not fall asleep and was having anxiety and for whatever reason just felt mad and I texted Daniel. I think I sort of knew the message wasn't going to go through so it didn't really matter whether I texted him or not, I just finally had the balls to do it. So I texted him, "Why did you start being mean to me all of a sudden? What is up with that?!" And it never said delivered.

I have looked this up several times- something I have never ever looked up with another ex, which, that in itself bugs me, that my instinct is he would block me, even though I think that's wrong and I'd never do it unless I was being literally stalked, and even then, I probably wouldn't because I'd need evidence to file charges! What I have read is that there should be no evidence on the blocked person's phone that they have been blocked. It should appear as though the message was delivered. So i am puzzled as to why the message doesn't say it was. I guess he could have changed numbers or gotten a non-iPhone but I sort of doubt it.

Also the fact that the message delivery issue first happened that bizarre night when he texted me at my niece's engagement party that "I had mistaken him for someone who cares" (seriously, WTF) leads me to believe he sent that text message as a final knife and then blocked me so I wouldn't be able to respond- or so he wouldn't see my response.

I read back through my messages from the last 3 months, and if I try to step back, I can see them as somewhat annoying. I texted him about one message a month (so three brief 1-2 text conversations a month apart) but largely unsolicited. I wasn't really sure why we weren't speaking though, or if we would go back to being friends though, and I felt the things I was texting him about were noteworthy.

In April I texted and let him know I didn't have cancer. I did text him the next day and said I saw his friend while I was out, and it felt weird. We had talked so much about me meeting her and I just felt like I couldn't get away from "us." He sent a lone text to each message and nothing else. I didn't really get why he was being cold after sending me hundreds of texts in February and March- it happened so suddenly and he never told me why- which is the most effective tactic with me.

In May I texted him happy graduation. No response.

Then in June the weekend Tootie died, and when I met his sister, he deleted me off Facebook without warning or explanation. I assumed it had something to do with meeting his sister- which, when I saw our medical records seemed really ridiculous. It turns out she had been my dog's vet for THREE YEARS. I just hadn't remembered. I knew she felt and sounded so familiar and I had told Daniel so, but I had never actually checked. It had just been 3 years since we had seen her so I hadn't remembered. After a few days I dropped him a message and apologized if I had violated some boundary by introducing myself to his sister but it seemed weird not to, given the volume of personal information I have about his family- his childhood, her personal life, his parent's marriage, their finances, her relationship history... I mean really... If it were reversed I would be quite upset to find someone knew that volume of information about me and hadn't said anything.

I honestly accepted our friendship was over. He was too fucked up to have a friendship with me or to be in a healthy relationship with anyone. He just couldn't handle it. He was going to move to another country (maybe- I kind of have doubts) and in the last few months I have finally gotten to a better place of acceptance and closure. I don't feel good about myself or my own relationship future, but with this, if we don't talk, I have mourned this friendship a lot and I am exhausted. I just wanted to clear the air. If he thought I was being malicious, or had intentionally sought out his sister to maintain a connection that is not something I wanted him telling people. Because it was untrue. So I clarified, and said I was fine that the friendship had ended, but wanted to clear the air. I didn't expect a response. I considered the matter closed. I was surprised he even read the text.

A WEEK LATER at my niece's engagement party, late at night he responded to the message with his weird, "It doesn't matter you saw her. You have mistaken me for someone who cares." message.

This was so unnecessary, so cruel and also... so vague. Do you not care about me? About your sister? Did you not care that the cat died? When I read the message out loud people assumed you were saying you didn't care about me. This is initially how I took it also. But I also realized you could have just been lashing out that I shared with you that the cat died. Maybe you didn't want to hear about my life. I wasn't trying to overshare, I just was explaining why we had gone to the vet. He is so reactive and sensitive. So am I, so I don't blame him, but I wish he wasn't so impulsive.

So... I can step back from my perspective and think, I reached out three separate times over three months, unsolicited, basically received no response and continued to reach out anyway. And this was possibly annoying. Maybe it was upsetting? Getting messages from Daniel was very anxiety provoking but also exciting. I loved him. On the one hand, I think he's being ridiculous. All he really had to do to be a polite, caring human being was to say, "I just don't think us being friends is working. I'm really sorry. I think we are going to have to cut off ties. I know that might be hard for you, but I can't have you text me anymore." Or... even a more subtle, "Thank you," to the grad text, and leave it. And the deleting... if it had nothing to do with his sister I have NO IDEA what prompted it. I had gone to a concert a couple nights before and posted a clip with song lyrics. I thought maybe he had over personalized it (the song was my sister's wedding song... It really had nothing to do with him) but the lyrics could have been applied to things that happened between us. But they were in no way some low context communication to him. I have no idea. I don't know what happened.

Do I care? I do. I care about every person I have ever been with. And Dan is... special. Messed up, but special. He was special to me. He also changed me in a profound way and I don't know what I am going to end up in the future because of him and our relationship. I wish he was adult enough to see I want the best for him, I would never hurt him, and I accept the things he says. I also wish he would weigh the effects of the things he says- and his actions. Because they hurt.

In our relationships, we have the power to heal and to hurt. Intentionally harming someone is not ever the right thing to do. He had this quote I think I facebook I read once, I can't remember if he posted it, or where I read it but I know it was his. It was something like it's the details of how a man lived that matters, they are what differentiate a man from another. Something like that. These actions, his betrayals, his abandonment, his cruel words... these cornerstones he is putting forth into the universe are not in sync with what I believe his morals to be. Women have treated him badly- or so he says- and treating me badly in return is not going to get him where he wants to be. Granted, being kind to people had gotten me trampled on like a doormat, but I can say with absolute conviction I have never hurt anyone like he did me.

Pointing to the Future, with hands aghast.

I feel so emotionally unprepared to date again. Some part of me misses having a partner, and remembers how satisfying it was to just have someone there.  It is that part of me that keeps me active on various dating apps. But... the rest of me just isn't there. I feel so flat and disinterested. Whenever I make a new connection with someone, if I write to that person at all, which is a very small proportion of the time, I very quickly drop off the conversation. I just can't make myself engage.

After Daniel, things are just different. I don't know that I have felt this way before. When I think about getting married or having kids now, it's akin to a foreign concept. It is an uncomfortable coat to try on. It doesn't seem to fit anymore. I expressed these kinds of feelings back in December, right after we broke up, but while my depression and mood has improved, my feelings haven't changed.

I was truly, my most authentic self with this person. I was incredibly vulnerable and open. I threw my arms wide and jumped in with every part of me. And I got burned, badly. I have continued to be burned, repeatedly in the months since. Each additional incident hurts less because I'm so unsurprised by it and I feel I understand his behavior and where it's rooting from. To the extent I don't even question it anymore. I just get it. (Which annoys me also.)

After a relationship that was that emotionally intense for me, I just can't even fathom being that vulnerable again, with anyone. It sounds so incredibly horrible to me. My distrust of men is incredibly low at this point. It would take a very special person to rise above the barrier of crap people have left behind with me. I don't really know what to do, but I don't really care either. That's how little interest I have at this point.

I used to say I didn't believe people were meant to be alone. We are supposed to have partners. I feel like I am rounding this bend in my life where I just don't believe that for myself any longer. I've been alone a long time and things are relatively peaceful that way. Maybe I'm not supposed to have a partner. Maybe I am meant to be alone. Maybe that's what all of these horrible things were supposed to direct me to.

I don't know. And I don't really care. But, I can't help but feel mournful about all of it.

On Knowing loss

This is a home that has known loss.

Known love.

Known happiness.

And become so fearful of experiencing that loss again, doesn't know if I could forge onward into the great unknown with that gamble on love again.

The pain doesn't really seem worth it.,

I have loved each of my partners so hard, and while I don't think we love any one person more or less, the love I have experienced with each successive partner has been richer, deeper and more fruitful. And more devastating.

I just don't know that I can sustain that loss again.

I am not a gambler.

I love hard.

I do not adapt to change well.

I am an evolving being, but part of me clings to the stagnant, because I so deeply desire stability. Even if that stagnates is uncomfortable and unsatisfying.

This is a home that has known loss.

But I don't know that it can accept any more.

Break ups are messy.

I don't know what happened. I thought we were doing great. Now I'm back on my couch holding back tears and with a chest full of anxiety again. Grieving my relationship all over again. Feeling abandoned. Again.

Two weeks ago, Daniel waited around at the airport for at least an hour to pick me up. He was so nice. Full of boundaries, but we were good and I could feel the feelings still there. It was good. We texted that night, but, it was fine. Intense, but fine. Manageable. We were adjusting and that's hard.

Then he went to Australia. It was a cluster of a trip. On the way out there his flight got diverted to Hawaii for a medical issue with one of the passengers, and several attempts at boarding and unboarding the plane later, the flight was canceled and the passengers put on another airline. He lost two days of his trip. We texted a little, and all was fine. He was cranky, but that was it.

Then I noticed something odd. He seemed to have deleted a couple of my comments off his Facebook. Reflecting back I wondered if the jokes I made weren't appropriate. I am certainly guilty of that. So I tried to dial it back a bit. I don't comment often, or like posts often either, but I try to interact with him some. I love and care about him for one, and two, adjusting to being friends requires practice. So instead of being totally casual like I would be with a regular friend, I moreso just admired his posts and was pleased he was having a good time. Once every few posts I'd throw out a like. I noticed here or there it seemed like he was deleting whole posts after he posted them. I thought it was odd but I do the same sometimes.

Then my birthday came. No word. Nothing. It was my birthday. I really, really hate my birthday. I always feel alone and forgotten and unimportant. My family rarely calls, although they usually remember. I might not have told Daniel how I felt about my birthday, but it's more likely I did. And I mentioned it before he left also. He was on Facebook every day, so when my birthday came and went without a word from this dear person to me- I tried really hard to not feel wounded. I was surprised though, given how we had left things.

I went to that dance class the day after my birthday and messaged him about it- I had heard fun gossip about one of his favorite bands from my dance teacher. He never opened the message. It was just a silly, fun, friendly message. I was excited to share the gossip with him because it made me laugh. That was all. 4 days later and it had never been opened. But he was posting and commenting every day... But he was on vacation! So, maybe it was nothing. 

The day he was flying back to the states I felt this deep instinctual drive to check my SnapChat. He was gone. GONE. Maybe he had deleted his account? On my "people who have added you" list, his name was there. I was confused. SnapChat displayed him as "DanEHarm" which was my nickname for him in my phone all the way back last September. It looked like he had added me so I tried to add him back- user not found. Then I wondered if he blocked me. I looked at my contacts list again and his name had changed to his user name. It was the weirdest thing ever. Then he appeared as a "friend you aren't friends with," so I wasn't blocked, but I guess he deleted me. I was so confused. I woke up thenext morning wracked with anxiety. I had terminated therapy the day before my birthday, the week before- something I was really proud of! To go from non-functioning to functioning injust a few months. And laying in bed, holding myself I started to wonder if it had been a mistake.

I sent over a text asking if all was okay and that I was getting a weird vibe. His flight back had AGAIN been diverted due to a medical issue and he had gotten trapped in Sydney this time. I expressed condolences over the trouble. Message was never delivered. But maybe that was because he wasn't on Wifi. Who knows if his phone worked when he was in Australia. I don't know. I hadn't tried before. iMessage should have worked, but I don't know. But my mind started worrying he had blocked me. Where the hell is this coming from?

I tried to shake off my worries and reflected on things he told me about that time he withdrew from me in December. He hadn't known what to say. He didn't have anything to say. It didn't really have anything to do with me. So maybe I needed to just let him do his thing and take a breath.

Later on in the day he posted some fun photos (with snarky comments) on Facebook. I forgot myself and left some harmless, positive, totally appropriate comments. Things like, "At least you got more time to explore!" And "That's awesome! And your Sony camera, yay!" (I shoot Sony for my business.) A few minutes later the post popped up again. With no comments. I scrolled through again. My likes were there... but my comments had been deleted.

There was absolutely no denying something funny was going on now. And I have absolutely no idea why. Three weeks ago when I was in New York and he was in Eugene he was texting me love poems he had written and asking me if I still loved him. He had just picked me up at the airport two days before he left! We had talked that day! I am so baffled by what the hell happened.

When I saw the comments I left on Facebook were gone, I just shot him a message. "Did I miss something? Are you needing space? I'm super confused."

He immediately opened it, but didn't respond.

"Like always, just ask if you need something. I won't comment on your posts if that's some kind of thing. I saw snapchat too so I was already puzzled if that was a mistake? I thought we were good! So sorry about your flight, that super sucks! But it looked like your trip was great! :) "

He never opened the second message.

I have absolutely no idea why we are rewinding on 3.5 months of progress back to that horrific post-break up period. I don't want to go through that again. Now or ever. Whatever the deal is, just tell me. You met someone in Australia? You are feeling down? You have unresolved feelings for me and realized you can't be around me? I HAVE NO IDEA. But the passive aggressive deleting and ignoring and silent treatment is so upsetting and immature I cannot deal with it. He is such an avoider and I hate it. I HATE it. It's so upsetting. I don't want to do this again. I can't handle it. I feel so disappointed. But he also has to do this on his own terms. He has to fix himself. I can't fix him. So however he has to do this, that's his way. I guess. If I can just be here, and try not to take it personally, and know that he will be okay... Maybe I can pick myself up again after this. I just hope it doesn't get any worse.

A Low Week

I am not having a good week. I feel down, I am crying all of the time, my eating has been terrible-I am having really strong urges to binge and I feel so lost. All I want to do is run. Either run away, or park my ass on Daniel's house and force this conversation my body keeps screaming I need to have with him.

Logically, my brain says this is a terrible idea. My friends say this is a terrible idea. Google says this is a terrible idea.

But my heart.

How do you know the difference between listening to your intuition, and knowing what is right for yourself, and just crazy girl talk? I don't know. How do you discern the difference between "good" advice from friends, and just seeking out the validation you want to hear from some people, and dismissing what you don't want to hear from other people? How do you filter out the "noise" people project on to you? I recently shared some insights from therapy with a close friend and she told me those observations seemed very obvious and I had to be really naïve to have not caught on to them before. The insights were MAJOR for me, and her comments bothered me deeply, so I discussed them in therapy the next week, and my therapist said... That person is just repeating back to you some reaction someone else gave her once. That's her shit. Not your shit. Your revelation is yours.

I went to the doctor today to do a post-break up check up. I've had some funny things happen with my body since the break up that I could not diagnose with my pal Dr. Google and so I utilized my great ghetto insurance for the first time and got some testing done. Speaking with the doctor, she thinks I'm just having some fun "You're over 30!" body changes. Joy. Better that than other stuff, but she still ordered every damn test under the sun just in case. For someone who has been celibate for almost 6 years it is incredible to me that I still have to worry about crap.

My therapist has brought it up several times, and I drunkenly texted a friend a similar comment last week: I think I need to talk to him. Either the universe will bring us together randomly, or he will reach out to me, or I am going to turn up on his front porch. Because this isn't done yet.

When we said good bye at my house that day, I thought I was saying good bye to my boyfriend and trying to adjust to a friendship with him. A brief period of separation and then a probably very awkward adjustment period. I had huge paranoia that I wouldn't see him again, but we agreed that wasn't what was going to happen. I felt very worried and panicky over this, but this was supposed to be a transition, not a good bye. So I was trying very hard to hold on to that.

This has turned into something totally different. Daniel running away from me at the record store last week- SERIOUSLY WHAT WAS THAT? Why is this a thing now? There was no love lost here! There was no problem between us! So why is there now? If we were to get back together.. We would have a lot to work through at this point because my trust issues have been majorly triggered. I hope that I have done enough work on my own that it wouldn't be a giant mountain to overcome, but it would be something. But if we are going to have no interaction in the future, I feel like I need a good bye and closure. Everything I have read says, I am never going to get what I need from him. But why does my gut say the exact opposite? What exactly am I supposed to listen to? Is everything I am experiencing normal, or should I just reach out and make this happen? I'm so confused. If I just keep waiting will the soul ache go away? But then again... I don't really want it to. Because I miss him and I am not done with this yet. I can't move on until I am done with this.

That time I ran into my ex and his ex.

It was a Friday. Over the last couple of months I have fallen into a pretty solid routine. Sundays I go to the Farmer's market. Then Trader Joe's. Then the record store. But this was a Friday, I was home, and I felt this pretty strong urge to go to Trader Joe's. I wanted this chicken salad thing that cost almost $5 and I couldn't really afford. I himmed and haa'ed and finally got dressed to go.

It was around 5:40pm and I pulled up just as the after work rush arrived. I scanned the parking lot with a bit of paranoia, checking for Daniel's car. The closest Trader Joe's to my house is a bit of a drive- and right near his work. I have absolutely no idea what his shopping routine is, and suddenly I felt awash with anxiety that I might run into him. Any time I went out in Midtown I felt this overwhelming anxiety. Worry that I would. Hope that I would. It's not that I didn't ever want to see him again- I did. But I wasn't really ready to. But I also felt this heightened awareness that he was probably going to move away as soon as he graduated. Although that was not part of his plans when we were together, or when he was with his ex, I just had this strong intuition that he was going to bail once he graduated. I felt like time was running out. And yet, I wasn't ready to see him either.

I kept my head down, staring to my right at the cars in the lot as I walked blindly into the store- and straight into a tall, warm body- and their mosquito sized breasts. I stumbled back, fairly startled.

And then did a double take.

In my distracted state, I had walked straight into the exit, and right into Daniel's ex.

She smiled at me, slowly, sort of like a pod person. Like her head was full of cotton. She stepped back easily and calmly and took even, smooth steps again towards the parking lot to her little white car. She had the most perfect hair I had ever seen in my life. Like a fucking Panteen commercial. Each curl perfectly formed and held. They bounced in precision too.

I stared. I probably drooled too. I mean, every brain cell I had cracked out of my head and dumped onto the sidewalk the second I had walked into her, I was so surprised. Never in the months since I had found out about the existence of this person had it ever occurred to me that I needed to worry about running into her. The perfect human. The human who broke my Daniel's heart and rendered him incapable of moving forward in our relationship, and essentially ruined our relationship. Of course, this is also Daniel's fault. Mostly Daniel's fault. But if we are each a little kinder and more adult in our own break ups, maybe the lovers we leave behind wouldn't be so fucked up for the next person

I just stood there, in the exit staring as the little white car backed up and pulled out of the lot before stumbling into the entrance and attempting to shop. Except I couldn't. I was shaking. I called my best friend, Kristin and paced around the store recounting the story. I noticed a middle age woman started following me around eavesdropping on my drama. I didn't even care. I don't remember if I bought anything. I was so out of it.

I head on to my favorite shop to work on job applications but 30 freaked out minutes later I have accomplished nothing and my anxiety is still raging. I stare, I dwell. I replay the moment over and over again in my head. Why the hell was she there? I didn't even think she lived in Sacramento. I thought she lived like 30 minutes away. Then I start ruminating on the fact that Daniel and she probably shopped at that Trader Joe's together as a couple. This makes my stomach churn. This was the relationship I thought I was going to have, and they had it. And I'm not going to get it. We aren't even speaking; we probably won't ever speak again because he is hung up on this woman with the perfect hair who treated him like crap and threw him out like garbage- like he did me.

I stare across the coffee shop and a familiar beat hits my ear. Fleetwood Mac. I sigh. Rhinanon. A song I love and have adored since childhood. I have been looking for the "Rumours" album on vinyl for about a month without success. I take it as a sign. I pack up my shit and head to the record store. I am being totally unproductive and sitting here is a waste.

I drive back across town and try to relax my body. The record store after the break up has become a place of solace for me. It was a place that Daniel introduced to me to, but it became a place that was my own. I parked the car and as I strode up to the door my eyes felt drawn up to a car crossing the intersection towards me. A black volkswagen. My eyes connected with the driver. A man with dark rimmed glasses and a beard. As he began to turn into the lot, our eyes connected and just as suddenly he turned the wheel and turned suddenly down the residential street. I froze. It was Daniel. he had been coming to the record store, saw me, and sped away.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

I walked into the store and sped over to the vinyl section. I began to panic again. Did he really just speed away from me? Really? Did he leave or was he waiting for me to leave? Should I leave? Was he coming in here? My thoughts felt frantic. I flipped through the racks quickly. No Fleetwood Mac. I grabbed a Ryan Adams CD and fled the store for Target where I paced around for an hour trying to calm down. What the hell was that? Who does that? Maybe he just panicked. And what the hell is with seeing both of them on the same night? This is really what we have come down to? Running away from each other in a record store parking lot? Really?

Following in the steps of his healing

It's been such a long time since I've gone through the break up process I honestly don't really remember what it's like anymore. The last few days I've heard myself echoing in my own head Daniel's words about needing to be alone, and figure things out with therapy, and take care of myself. I started turning off my dating apps and saying no to the (many, many) dates I've been asked out on over the last few weeks and shutting down conversations that men keep starting with me. Even supposedly platonic conversations I have stopped in their tracks because, I am just not ready. I feel about as emotionally available as a tree stump.

 I'm sitting here in this coffee shop in midtown and every time I see a car that looks like his drive by my heart jumps a little, and in the same breath... my body feels like he's becoming a stranger a bit again. It's happening. He's going away. The memories are. We've been separated longer than we were together now and as much as I want to hold on to everything, the world has continued to spin madly on.

I hang on to everything I have because, this relationship mattered so much to me. And my heart still aches for the feelings he evoked in me and the connection I know we had. And I still cry. I cry in the car, curled in my bed late at night, over sad episodes of Sex and the City, and sometimes even in Target wandering around on a Saturday afternoon. But I can't stop him from going away. He's been gone physically for two months. I haven't communicated with him in a month now, and now, the part that I held and clung to so dearly- my memories- his voice, smell, how he held my hand, how he cradled me in his arms. Those things are starting to go too. Those are not things that I want parted from my memory and I know that I will cling to them as long as possible. And it will prolong the ache in my chest. But I can't help it. It's the only thing I have left now. I don't want that reality to happen. I don't want to meet him again one day as strangers. This man I loved so much. Even though I am afraid; I am already gone from his mind.

Why do we even bother with love anyway, when it causes this much pain?

Little Rock trip with Sarah and cutting ties with Daniel

Sarah was basically my best friend when I lived in Oregon. She was the long term girlfriend of a guy in my program and they had moved cross country together. Their relationship ended during our time in the program and she and I spent an extraordinary amount of time together while she tried to heal and work through things. After I moved back to California, she moved back to Arkansas.

After Daniel and I broke up, I was obviously melting and I bought tickets to go see her right away. She had just gotten her own apartment and we arranged for a long weekend for the soonest I could get tickets, which turned out to be right before Christmas.

Coming into "Bill & Hillary Clinton" airport was totally crazy. Our plane circled for hours because they couldn't get the flaps up on the wings to help slow the plane down! So they announced over the loud speaker to brace ourselves, buckle in tight and be sure all of our crap was really strapped in good because we were going to come in FAST- but... it's totally fine. The landing was for sure fast, and we definitely used the whole runway trying to slow down and stop. It was pretty bumpy, but not bad! What was bad was the hour or two (I can't remember anymore) of circling in rough air. I got off the plane, beelined for the bathroom, and puked. But I felt much better!

Once we landed though, we realized our plane was surrounded by firetrucks and ambulances- is that reassuring or not so reassuring?!

Sarah was waiting for me at the exit point and we did the amazing running into each other's arms and screaming thing. it was great. Then she took me straight out for booze and snacks. :)

 We had some rosemary gin drink! It was baller.

After that we went to her grandparent's house to see DEXTER, my beloved pretend dog. He is Sarah's dog, but I used to steal him all the time when we were both in Oregon so my dog Charlie could havea playmate! And when I would go out of town the two dogs would stay together so they wouldn't get lonely. I love Dexter. Sarah calls me his better Mama. lol

 Okay, so the dog is a little dumb. He's very lovable though,

From there, we went off to introduce me to the local delicacy- CHEESE DIP. Similar to nacho cheese, or queso, but both more sophisticated... and not. It is kind of like melted plastic, but made with heavy cream. It is amazing. I could drink the stuff. Truly, it is AWESOME. I love it! Apparently it is something mostly unique to Arkansas? Other places call it different things but the texture and flavor here is pretty different than what I have sampled in the Southwest or in California or Texas. It's delicious.

From there, we went to a brewery opening, the closing night in an old music venue,  and a cool hipster bar in an old victorian. All stellar. Loved it all. Sarah also took me to her work at a juice bar, and I got walked through a series of free samples, which were delcious, and... interesting. (Some of them were a tad too healthy... aka they tasted like dirt.)

I had been doing really well and having a pretty great time until I got to the juice bar. When I took the above picture of my juice samples, I posted it on instagram. And instantly... I saw I had one less follower.

And I knew who it was. So I checked. Daniel had unfollowed me, right then. I stood in the shop with my mouth agape and Sarah saw me from across the shop and shouted "WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!" So I told her and she walked over muttering, "What the fuck?" and so I showed her and immediately the discussion turned to- you have to cut him off. Because this is happening. He's going to cut you off.

For all that Daniel and I agreed to when we broke up. For all of our mature discussion and agreements, my giant fear of abandonment was starting to happen. The reason I had laid it all out there when we broke up was because I wanted to know what to expect. If we are going to do no contact, then let's just agree to this right now. Then I know it's happening. If we are going to be friends, let's agree to whatever boundaries we need right now. Because I do NOT want any surprises, because THAT is going to hurt the most. But one by one he was breaking our agreements. He had stopped returning my messages, and now, although it might seem small to someone else, him unfollowing me to me said other things were coming. He was going to cut me off. Unless I did it first.

This really put a huge emotional knife through the whole trip because I could not think about anything else. I feel bad for that, but at the same time, it was where I was at. I needed emotional support. I had been there for Sarah when she was fucked up, so hopefully it was tolerable for her that I was a big flipping basket case. Ugh.

We stayed up late talking about it- for hours, and got super drunk and talked and talked and talked. And ultimately, it was deemed worse if he did it rather than I because he would be taking my power away. And I couldn't stop him from doing it. But like Sarah said, it's like he was doing these tiny little things in hopes that I wouldn't notice. The fade out. Who would notice a dropped follower? Except all of my followers were friends, so of course I did. And I had already been worried. I felt so insecure.

I didn't sleep all night and kept waking up and checking my phone to see if he had cut me off. He hadn't. Finally, early the next morning, I deleted him off all social media. I checked everything again- and he was re-added! So then I had to re-delete him again, which was excruciating. I cried and cried. If felt like I was breaking up with him, and cutting him off. Which is not something I wanted to do. It's not even something I believe in. Unless the relationship is truly toxic (and I have had a couple of those) I don't believe in cutting people off. Certainly not with someone I was in love with. But I didn't trust him. I didn't trust him not to leave first. So I cut it off. It felt like I had killed us. It was terrible. I don't understand how we got to this place.

I told Sarah when she got up and she affirmed it was the right thing to do. I had been obsessing and it was the only way to stop- and also to take back some control. Because all that was happening right now was he was leading and controlling everything.

The one thing I was very adamant about was informing him what I did. I did not want to disappear without an explanation. I didn't really believe in what I was doing, but if I was going to do it, I was going to tell him I did it, and why. Because he deserved that- as someone I loved. I needed to do that for me. Even if he did shitty things, I think people deserve goodbyes for their own process. Sarah, her therapist boyfriend, and I worked out what to write together and I mulled over it for a few hours.

Sarah and I went hiking up a little mountain that afternoon called Pinacle Peak.

When I got to the top of the mountain, I sat down in the cold and hit "send."

"Hey, just wanted to reach out to you a final time.. I was under the impression we were going to continue a friendship, but that doesn't seem like something you're interested in. 

I want you to know I really appreciated the relationship we had; it meant a lot to me, and it truly sucks we can't be friends or hang out or interact. I genuinely felt like I grew in so many ways because of you, and I valued that so much. You impacted me in such a good way. I mean that. 

That being said, I felt it necessary to remove you from social media. Not to close us off from a friendship or a future, but for my own protection and preservation.  I know this deviates from what we discussed, which is why I wanted you to know, so it would not be an upset for you. It's purely to take care of myself. If you'd like to open a conversation about a friendship, please feel free to do so- I am here. But until then, I am leaving this alone as it seems like you do actually want to cut ties. I hope you're well, and that you know how much I care."

And I cried. And Sarah hugged me. And we sat in the cold on top of the peak for a bit before we made our way down as the sun set.

Opposites. Because I was at the highest peak for miles, but the lowest I could possibly feel.

Without Hope

I have never felt so deprived of hope before. Like my soul is empty.

After Matt, I am beginning to realize, my grief was two fold. Mourning the person was one thing. It felt like he died. Mourning the lost dreams was another, but it was the trauma itself that caught me for so long. I muddied these things all together, but the grief for the actual person and relationship, had it been it's own separate thing would not have taken as long had it not been for the trauma. It was the trauma that was the problem. Of course for those of you that have read this blog for a long time may feel like that's a "duh," but for me, I'm just getting there.

The day I walked out of Daniel's house, it was like this little light inside me blew out. This little candle I had kept protected and sheltered had been abrupted gone dark, like someone slammed a door too quickly. The hope felt gone. I don't know that I've ever felt that way before. Maybe that is my brain protecting me from the feelings I felt during that awful time after Matt, but maybe not. My heart says not.

Before, I questioned the world, how can there be someone else out there for me, when this fictionalized person invented this perfect person for me? I worried and wondered if someone could exist.

I don't feel that way this time.

Before I always felt that there was something. Something greater out there.

And I don't this time.

It just feels like... The love is gone.

Both during and after Matt I had love quotes hung up all over my house. I got a necklace that said "All is Well," and another that said "Hope." I wore these necklaces so much the chains rotted and I had to replace both necklaces a couple of times. I really believed them though. I wore them as reminders as what I believed.

I have these two framed quotes in my bathroom, "If you are not too long, I will wait here for you all of my life." and "Your Mr Darcy is Out there."

I've had these forever.

I tried to wear my Hope necklace a couple of times the last week. If I had no hope, maybe I can wear it, and the belief will come. But when I woke up with it on my neck this morning it felt like a lie and I had to take it off. I don't believe that right now. It's not that I don't think there are plenty of people in the world that lots of people can "make it work" with. There are. But now having had something different... I just don't know what to do with all of my feelings.

I had to turn all of the love quotes in my house to face the walls last week. Many I hid under the bed or under couches. And I'm about to take the two ones I quoted above and remove them as well. I just do not believe in them right now. It's too painful to look at.

It's not that I don't believe he is out there. It's that I am afraid he was.

Rick's Dessert Diner Date with Daniel

After our big conversation about the ex, I really wanted to make a conscious choice to put everything behind us and move forward. I loved and accepted Daniel for the person that he was as a whole package. The wounds he had acquired before we met made him the empathetic and kind person that I had fallen in love with. While I think some of the choices his ex made while she was ending their relationship were less than kind, or considerate, and I think Daniel overlooked plenty of red flags and pushed aside and avoided a number of problems for his own part- I think this woman was brave for walking away from something she knew was a wrong fit for her. She didn't do this break up well by any means, but she didn't go forward with a relationship that she knew was wrong for her. And that was the right thing. Unfortunately, that crushed Daniel. She should have done it better. But she didn't, so here we are.

That week, I was feeling very triggered by my own relationship history and I really needed Daniel to step up and be there for me and reassure me that all was okay. But the problem was, Daniel was having his own hard time. So here we are, having this mutually excruciating emotional crisis, and both needing different kinds of support. Daniel didn't feel emotionally available and I needed support. The incongruency there was not so great.

Wednesday we had a date night and I told Daniel I really needed a solid, sweet date for us. I needed to feel good. But he was feeling low, and and even his language in talking sounded low. He suggested I come over for a movie and we could stroll over to Rick's Dessert Diner and get take out and bring it back to his apartment. For whatever reason, this just did not feel good enough to me. I am a pretty easily impressed person but I just needed... more. My messages to him had an off tone, and I told him, I was trying to be excited and I understood he was tired, I just needed a little dazzle. He said he was tired but that a nice quiet night in sounded good and that it felt date-y to him. I felt weepy and cried before our date but tried to pull it together. I got dressed up and tried to pull it together but I couldn't shake my mood.

I grabbed some of my favorite movies, and my pretty new white coat and headed on over to Daniel's!

I was trying really hard to rally, but... honestly I ruined this date. Daniel had stopped being physical with me at this point (saying he was too stressed studying and finals and emotionally drained with everything) and after the lying incident I really needed some kind of affirmation. But having your partner recoil when you put your hand on their chest and say things like, "Don't touch my fat." every single time you try to cuddle with them really has an effect of putting up a huge wall between you. I felt sensitive and rejected. I'd try to tease him and flirt with him over text, and reading back over them, there were a few instances where he had started to play back with me but I was already feeling so rejected and so sensitive to his physical sensitivities (he would literally stiffen when I tried to be close to him) that I needed an overt declaration of interest because I felt so beaten down, especially after the conversation on Monday. I was trying really hard not to take it personally because Daniel had explicitly told me he was SO tense about school and we both acknowledged there was weirdness between us, but we wanted to power through it and we knew we could overcome it because we cared so much about each other. This night though, I just felt drained and emotional. I don't remember what movie we ended up watching, but I do remember thinking I ruined this date. Daniel tried really hard and I just fucked it up. I guess I had the right to feel off with everything that was going on, but I did feel bad. This was hard.

Finding the truth out about Daniel

All day Monday I struggled with the knowledge I had uncovered about his relationship past. It was our routine for him to text me from early in the morning and for us to converse, essentially, all day long. Happy, loving messages through out the day. I felt like I was lying to him. I felt terrible. But he had literally lied to me. I had to wait until his day ended to have this conversation with him.

All day long I tried to keep things as normal as possible so as not to tip him off, and I tied up loose ends with the rest of the research I needed to do on the matter. It felt awful. I loved this man. I was pretty sure I understood why he had done what he had done, but I had questions and I wasn't sure what was going to happen that night. I was scared.

Daniel didn't get home from class until after 7:30pm that night, and basically, as soon as he did I checked in, and asked if I could come over. I felt so guilty when he responded with excitement for me to swing by. It was not uncommon for one of us to run over to the other's house on long days to sneak in a hug because we missed each other. I know this is what he was thinking- and I felt terrible because I was basically going to ambush him. I can't say this enough- I loved this man.

I drove over to his house and he was in the middle of making tea when I got there. It's funny because, our conversation (I think) is actually preserved on his Instagram. He had taken a picture of his tea cup I guess right before I got there, and posted it... but we started talking and he never drank it. The photo is still there. It's like this memorial. A bad memorial. I wish I could erase it sometimes, and then I think... It was evidence that it happened. And that's okay too.

I came in and we had hugs and kisses and I asked him to put down his tea and sit on the couch so we could talk and he was immediately alarmed. He even said, (half-jokingly) "That's never good when a girl says that." But I just told him to please sit.

I had thought a lot about the least threatening way to do this and I wanted to present him with an opportunity to come clean. I wanted him to tell me the truth on his own. I was praying that he would. I valued and cared about this relationship more than any other relationship I had ever been in. I connected with this man more than any other person I had ever met. He felt like me more than I was. He felt like an extension of myself. I had been more of myself with him than I ever had been with anyone, ever. I wanted to give this relationship every opportunity to succeed. I had thought long and hard about how on earth to have this really hard conversation without shaming him or trapping him.

I think I started by telling him, "You remember that lawyer quote, 'Never ask a question you don't already know the answer to?'" He nodded. I specifically brought this up for a couple of reasons. 1.) I wanted to make a joke. This is the essence of me. 2.) I wanted to give him a heads up that I already knew everything. I wasn't going to say this next part, or ask this next question without already knowing the answer... So in other words... please don't blow this Daniel. Come clean.

"Is there anything we haven't talked about that we should? Like your relationship history or anything?"

And he looked confused. But his facial expression, for once, wasn't one I could easily read and I wasn't sure if he understood what I was saying or not. I repeated the question and he, at some point, said, "No." And I became very shaky, and began to cry and repeated the question again. "There's nothing you have held back or haven't told me? Nothing?" And he said "No?" With a look of absolute puzzlement on his face.

In my head all I could think was, this relationship is over. He lied to me before, he is lying to me right now, and I am going to have to get up and walk out that door because that is the boundary I set for myself and I cannot violate that rule for myself. I held back choky sobs as I try, one more time, "There isn't anything you haven't told me about --- [Ex]--- that you should have already?" And then his face clicks into the conversation immediately. "Yes. We dated this year, not last year."

Finally I can exhale. "And?"

"And we were engaged."

I can let it all out now, and I cry, but more from relief than anything else.

There's so much of this conversation I don't even remember because I was so emotional. Afterwards he told me at first he had absolutely no idea what I was talking about. It wasn't until I explicitly dropped her name that he realized what I was talking about.  In a nutshell though, he was somewhat horrified I had found out, impressed that I had figured out to the level of detail that I had, and ashamed that he hadn't told me himself. He had been trying to tell me for awhile and had tried to several times- in several specific conversations I could specifically remember even. One memorable one in which we had discussed wedding venues and he slipped on a detail about another ex, and he almost stopped and told me right then, and then.. couldn't bring himself to. When I talked about it with Kristin later she said, maybe he made the comments he did about snooping on Facebook the night before because it was just easier for him if I figured it out myself. He basically outted himself. He got in so deep he didn't know how to get out of it. And honestly, I can say I relate to that too. I still have a client who thinks Matt died. Not because I explicitly told her that, but because she assumed based on my behavior back then and I had no idea how to correct her. 5.5 years later and I still see this client at least once a year and I have no idea how to get out of this. One lie begets another.

For Daniel, telling me he had been single for a year, that single sentence had enormous consequences. First, it changed the timeline of his relationship history. He had to flip flop the timeline of other dating relationship, moving it forward a year, even though that one had actually happened a year previously. When I asked if he had always lived in his excessively large 2 bedroom apartment alone, he hesitated and said he had had a roommate over the summer. The roommate turned out to be the ex. The lack of furniture turned out to be not from "just moving in," but from her "just moving out." (And forcing him to get rid of all of his stuff for the whole 4 weeks they lived together). His lack of a couch- probably due to the fact they used her couch. His bed in the living room was because his bed had been in the guest bedroom. His couch had been banished to the patio, where it was now full of spiders. The cute patio tent out there with the lovely twinkle lights that I noticed out there the first time I toured his unit turned out to be hers, too. He told me he helped afford his extremely expensive apartment (more than twice the cost of my HOUSE) by Air B'nB'ing the unit, but it turned out there was actually a settlement between them. He had only used Air BnB once, and it was not a good experience.

The jars of jam in the cupboard that he said he had made over the summer I still wonder about.

We sat on that couch and we went through each of these points and he went through every single story he had ever told me about his life- ever- over the last couple of months of dating to verify he had told me the absolute and total truth about EVERYTHING. And he had. I asked him, a hundred times, why he lied. And he said exactly what I thought (and what Connor thought) he would say. He liked me. He was ashamed of the truth. It just flew out of his mouth. He thought he was ready. His best (female) friend and he had talked at length about his situation and she had acknowledged that he was miserable alone, she knew he would be miserable alone and she thought it would be okay to go out and start looking for someone. But, he thought it would take awhile to meet someone. He literally signed a 2 year contract with eHarmony.

And then he and I found each other the first week of each our memberships. That 6.5 hour first date. He went home from that and thought something like, "Oh, shit."

He said meeting me was like being hit by a lightning bolt. And then he didn't know what to do. He didn't expect to meet anybody that fast. And he was falling for me from the first date. When he went to Yosemite he told his best (female) friend Kait that he thought he loved me, and wanted to tell me. (Exactly when I first felt that way about him.) And Kait basically flipped out on him. He had just gotten out of a super serious relationship- he had just ended an engagement. If that's really how he felt about me- fine, but I was a real person and he couldn't jerk me around or dive into something. That conversation with her affected him deeply, and he spent that weekend in Yosemite raging drunk and I am guessing, confused about our relationship, and his last relationship as well. I'm still not sure on the exact timeline, but I think his break up happened about a month- six weeks before our first date, but he saw his ex for the last time the weekend before he and I met. This thing was extremely fresh for him, and it had to have been extremely confusing. This is why he had pulled back and had been all over the place.

Like I told him that night, all of your behavior makes complete sense now that I know your actual timeline on things. All of it makes sense. The push-pull, the hesitancy, him wanting to push me out in the middle of the night, the being weird about the label, the Facebook thing... Not only being embarrassed about the engagement ending, but he had to be self conscious about having a new girlfriend so soon too and how that looked to everyone. My heart felt so very sore as we talked, and yet, we still had that conversation. We made jokes and eased the tension, but asked the hard questions and plowed through. When we got to the end of it, I put my arm around him and said, "Was it as bad as you thought it would be?" And Daniel said, "Yes, it was, but you made it better." So while I was sorry I couldn't make it perfectly smooth, I was still glad we could engage and make it out the other side. I tried to reassure him right out of the gate that this wasn't a deal breaker for me, I just needed him to be totally honest and that's what he was that night.

We sat on the couch looking at each other for a few minutes, but then his demeanor seemed to change. He had held it together fine through the conversation but once we sorted out my stuff, he started talking about some other things. He had been feeling depressed and low and he talked about that for awhile. He became very emotional and he seemed to shut down. His body language and demeanor changed. He crossed his arms over his chest and didn't want me to touch him. He shook and trembled and I became alarmed watching his body shift. We ended up talking until well after 2am and I tried my best to comfort him but I wasn't exactly sure how. He told me he was hitting bottom.

 I asked him, tell me how to be here for you, but he was so upset he couldn't really answer. I wouldn't have ordinarily slept over, but I wasn't comfortable leaving him in the upset state he was in, so I told him I was staying with him, even if it was on the couch, and I told him he had to go to bed because it was so late.

I offered to stay on the couch so he would actually sleep (we hadn't shared a bed enough times for it to be a smooth experience) but he felt so guilty he kept saying he felt like he should stay on the couch, to punish himself, and I said that was absolutely ridiculous and he was not going to do that. I was of course happy to share the bed with him, despite the emotionally draining evening, I just wanted to make sure he would sleep, and after seeing him so upset I didn't want to disrupt him and I am an absolute terrible sleeper. He said it would be fine for me to share the bed so he tried to find me something to sleep in. Now that everything was out on the table, he offered me an old sweatshirt... that his ex used to sleep in. I understood why he offered it, but the fact that the trauma from the break up was so fresh that it had to be mentioned made me want to burn it. I don't remember what I ended up wearing but it wasn't that.

His sleep was restless and he stayed curled up in tiny little ball the whole night, which for a 6'2" man was pretty impressive. I tried to hold him or comfort him but he didn't want to be touched. He was so emotional and so overloaded and I had absolutely no idea how to help him or support him or be there for him. It was upsetting to see him so upset and to feel so powerless. For me, all I needed was to talk about everything and my needs had been met. From here, I just needed to go forward with honesty. Time would only tell on that front. But right now the only thing I could think about was how much my partner was struggling.

Daniel was supposed to be up at 5am for Crossfit but neither of us woke up until long after that class was over and the next morning he sent off a text apology to his friend for standing him up and I hustled off to move my car before I got ticketed.

It was a long, draining, difficult night. I left Daniel's mostly settled about the untruths I had discovered on Sunday, but absolutely shaken by Daniel's upset after that. I felt down, and worried and definitely still in need of reassurance that all would be okay. It was a hard day for us, and I know I said this before, but we did do it. We rose to the occasion and it was okay.

MPRE & Facebook Friends... and Trouble

The whole time we were dating, Daniel and I had never been facebook friends. At first, I wasn't even interested in friending him, and never asked to do so. I know he had tried to find me on Facebook a few times and had had trouble doing so because my personal profile is fairly well hidden. The night he finally figured out my facebook name was pretty hilarious because I felt like I could literally see the lightbulb shining over his head!

The day of his motorcycle accident was the day he extended the friend request my way, but he had said several times he wanted for us to wait for us to be friends until after he took the MPRE because he was concerned it would be a distraction for him. I sort of raised by eyebrows over this but said I could give him a grace period of sorts. That period went sour pretty quick and this was the argument I initiated over text the week before. I had started feeling a little insecure over the whole thing but I didn't really understand why. I saw the man every day. We spent every available non-school, non-working hour together. What on earth did it matter if I had access to his social media? In restrospect I'm sure this was an internal cue that something was amiss. After we DTR'd the previous week though, he had sent the request over, and this absolutely cooled my jets on the topic. I just needed the gesture. In turn, I could give him the space he asked for by not immediately accepting it until after his exam. I just needed to know he wanted me and everything was okay.

After he took the MPRE (an ethics exam for lawyers), we had a date the following day at my house and were hanging out. I turned to him a bit flirtingly and said "Some random guy tried to friend me on Facebook and I'm thinking I might accept!" He looked confused for about half a second and then his eyes twinkled at me and he said, "Oh you mean ME!" And so, cuddling on the couch together watching Gilmore Girls, I accepted his friend request and we sat and went through each other's profiles, asking questions and browsing and chatting about this and that. Getting to know each other on a social media level, if you will. He didn't have a ton on his profile so I was pretty well satisfied after a few minutes and gave him some smooches and we went back to watching our show and chatting, per usual. It was nice and low key and lovely.

Daniel has really long days on Mondays so he did not spend the night that Sunday so he would sleep well for his 6am cross fit class and long day at school.  I walked him out the front door, and as I did so he paused and said, "So once I go, are you going to snoop through my profile?" And I laughed and said, "Of course not, what else is there to look at? I already looked at everything!" And we kissed and hugged and said goodbye. He walked over to his car in my driveway and turned again and made another comment about snooping and said goodnight, and this... little flag went up in the center of my chest.

I went back in the house and sat on the couch holding my phone in my hand and stared at Gilmore Girls on pause. "I'm going to restart the show," I thought. Then I just sat there. For 40 minutes.

It was like he had showed me his card. I knew there was something there or he would not have made those two comments. Daniel knew my full history with Matt, and he knew if there was anything to find, I would find it. But I didn't want to. And I trusted him. And what on earth could there possibly be to find?

I casually scrolled through his profile again. Nothing of note.

But I knew what I was looking for. So I plugged his name, and the first name of his last ex into the search bar, and up pulled the last time they had been checked into a location together. Not a year ago, like he had told me on our first date. But in May. Of this year.

My heart raced. Please not this again. My insides started to wail.

Maybe it was someone else with the same name? I clicked on the update... Nope. He had posted a photo of the two of them in the comments. He had been with this person this year. Not last year.

He had lied.

I've been down this road before and I know how to do this. I checked her out, and I checked him out and compared notes.

She and I had a friend in common and I did my detective work there too. The good news: there was no overlap between our two relationships. He had not cheated on either of us with the other. That was good.

But he lied about time line, and in reality this was not a guy who had taken a year to heal and was ready to move forward- this was a guy on the rebound. And not only that- this relationship he had just gotten out of, it wasn't just a relationship, it was an engagement.

This was news to me.

They had been engaged very briefly and from all accounts it was a shit show. In my opinion, they both rushed, they were not a good match, and I'm guessing she must have come from a conservative background because she had a rule that they couldn't live together unless they were engaged. So they got engaged the week they moved in together, and it blew up after about a month. There's a lot more to that story, but the story as a whole is humiliating. What I will say is, I don't blame him for not wanting to disclose that information. As my friend Connor said, if I had known at the time, I would have pumped the brakes. And Daniel liked me from the outset. He didn't want to scare me off.  Sometimes when we are wounded, things just fly out of our mouths. After Matt, I told people he died. It would just come out, like a tick. I have empathy for it. I can put myself in his place and feel that pain. I never knew how to untangle myself from those accidental deceptions. I didn't mean to, it just came out. So I understood where he was coming from.

For me though, it was wrong he lied. On a generous day, I can say he misled me, or he fudged the timeline. But the truth is he lied. And that one lie- "I've been single for a year," begot another lie, and another. Because things needed to be explained. I tried to answer as many questions for myself as possible before going to Daniel and talking to him about it so I would be fully armed with information and would know if he was being dishonest when we discussed the situation. I also discussed everything with Connor and Kristin and tried to make a decision in advance as to whether this was a deal breaker for me.

And whether I was crazy for thinking it wasn't. 

I was so hurt, and so upset, but also, I had compassion for him, and loved him and knew all the reasons that relationship had ended. And I hear the dilemma of maybe falling for someone sooner than you expected. I decided that if he came clean to me on his own that it would not be a deal breaker. But if he lied about any detail whatsoever, or didn't admit to it, the relationship was over.

I went to bed too, although I didn't sleep at all and faced a long day of faking it with him over text until I could see him in person. We didn't usually see each other on Mondays because of his crazy schedule, but I knew if I asked to visit  he wouldn't say no. I felt quite bad over it because I know how drained he would be, and how he would turn for me for hugs and comfort if I went to his house, but I couldn't let the knowledge I had sit another day after that. So I laid in bed and waited for the morning to come, and the long day ahead before I could talk to him about what I had found. I couldn't believe I was here again.

First Date

Don't get too excited, as this didn't really go how I planned. But a couple three weeks ago I asked a guy out on a date for coffee. (Otherwise known as a "coffee thing.")

We met during a styled photo shoot I had  designed recreationally for work and was one of the "models," who were actually all friends or acquaintances and students at the law school I'm doing my graduate work at.

He was pretty scruffy looking when I saw his pictures and when we first met in person, but he immediately stuck me as just being so kind and genuine. A lot of the qualities I mentioned in my last post about my guy friend at school-  this man clearly possessed also and it struck me. I waited for an opening and emailed him an invite for coffee. Because he is a law student, his time is over-scheduled, and while he responded enthusiastically, it's taken us three weeks to find a date and time.

I had become increasingly anxious because this would be the first time I've gone out with anyone since Matt. I'm rusty, and was never really good at this anyway. I fretted over clothes, dodged him on campus and just totally psyched myself out. 

I did do it though, and showed up (just a couple minutes late! ...ok, 7 minutes late;)  at the cute little espresso house he suggested across town.

And I waited... And waited... And waited.

I have now been sitting here for over an hour, alone, feeling a mixture of relief and extreme sadness. 

I was really looking forward to, and was excited about, getting back to normal. That the universe was going to show me that men are not all bad, and can be kind and gentle and loving and treat people well.

I feel kind of stupid now. It's probably something silly, like he forgot or something came unexpectedly. It happens. I understand. And it's forgivable. 

I just feel very... Alone. And unimportant. Left behind. Lonely. Not special. Rejected. And that my life is not ever going to change. I have done the work here, and I will continue to do it. But I am disappointed that its still not my time yet, and fearful, just a bit, that it never will be. 

An Unfortunate Discovery

About 10 days after the hearing I was reading an article in Glamour Magazine about love scams/online romance scams. Mostly the article was about people who stole innocent people's pictures and used them on dating profiles, then started an intense relationship with someone online, and then somehow got them to give them money.

This isn't exactly what happened with Matt, but it's similar. Same ballpark.

The article mentioned two support websites to turn to for help if you had been a victim. You could get info on how to spot another scam, and how to have a healthy relationship post-scam, and even look and see if someone you were suspicious about had been previously reported as running scams. It even had a little database searcher.

I wasn't going to look at it, I was just laying in bed trying to sleep. And then suddenly I was overwhelmed.

"Get up and look. You'll find it. He's on there."

And I thought... you are such a paranoid retarded freak. SHUT UP.

"He's on there. Go and look. You have to get up. Get UP."

I swear I slapped both of my hands across my face and groaned and swore but I got up. It was like 2am and I was tired.

I plugged his info into the websites. Nothing came up. (See, Emily, I knew you were a paranoid, retarded freak). But then I saw this other search result. It apparently scans the web for people with that user id.

HELLO VOMITING PILE OF SEARCH RESULTS.

Matt is using a third identity and is claiming to be 18 years old in one, and 25 in another. (He's in his early 30's.)  He also still has an active account with the name I knew him as. All associated with that email he used when we were together.

I was alarmed and freaked out and didn't know how to handle the information. People have been telling me for two years I wasn't the only one he ever did it to, but I never really believed them. (I honestly still think I hallucinated our whole relationship most of the time. It's just too bizarre and insane).

Can you think of  a single, legitimate, above board reason why a 33 year old man would be pretending to be 18?

Let's say he hasn't used this in 3 years. Let's say he stopped after the incident with me.

THAT JUST MEANS HE WAS IMPERSONATING A FIFTEEN YEAR OLD, PEOPLE.

These profiles age with the user. That just makes it WORSE.

I posted on Facebook, with my intent to just be, how the heck do I process this information? But I got this overwhelming response of "leave it alone, move on," blah blah blah. All of which was supremely unhelpful  and minimizing of the situation.

Please. Sit down. Think about this. Nice old grandpa who lives next door likes to watch your daughter after school. He's sweet, friendly, Grandma is nice. No problem. Your daughter starts coming home with bruises all over her thighs and is acting secretive.

DO YOU JUST LET THAT GO???

I was not posting on Facebook to request what course of action I should take. I posted for support. I got judgment. As my therapist said, that didn't really help me. It really just pissed me off. And I had posted in a panic at 3am, so way too many people say the post, people who don't even know my situation so I just deleted it.

And then I sat and stewed, as I often do.

I was assaulted as a child.  I would not wish that on anyone. I believe in the laws of this country. I believe in the quote, "If you remain silent in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor." No one spoke up for me when I was a child and was hurt by a bad, bad man. Who is going to speak up now, if not me? What if no one else even knows?

What's one reason why a married 33 year old would be pretending to be 18?

One. Name one legit reason.

There isn't one.

Months ago I posted about how I started shrieking at the computer "HE'S AN ONLINE PREDATOR!" because I came to suspect he met his wife online as well. Well, I'm genuinely suspicious he is. And you want me to turn a blind eye? I freaking think not. Like I could LIVE with myself if he was corresponding with underage girls or boys. I don't even want to think about that. It's a crime. 

Of course, even if it's true, I don't think I could ever believe it, or really acknowledge it in my heart or soul because when I look at him, I see the man he pretended to be. I don't know if I'll ever make that separation. It is very hard to accept the love of your life (to this point in my life) was a fictional character.  I understand his wife to a greater extent than I did. She lives in the land of denial. How could she do anything else? How do you admit you're married to a monster? She has kids. She's surviving. She's also crazy, but I pity her. I wish I could shake her and say, "Don't you know what you're worth?! Don't you know that God loves you? Heavenly Father wants more for you than this! He wants more for your children! Don't you know you're loved?!"

And I don't even believe in God half the time. (But she does and it's a medium she'd relate to.)

(I try, it's a struggle. I'm super analytical. But I recognize religious beliefs provide personal enrichment, so I try.)

So, after stewing a little while longer, I called the Internal Affairs bureau of the CHP.  And I simply asked them, "What should I do?" (BTW, totally did not spazz out on the phone this time talking to the officer. yay me!)

They told me to file a Citizen's Complaint. They said it was the prudent, appropriate thing to do. I clarified about five times.

Then I sat on it for the last couple of weeks. I still didn't really want to do it.

I went to therapy and talked about it, and as I talked about all of my apprehensions, I said, "I just don't know what the right thing to do is." Then I interrupted myself and said, "Of course I do. The right thing to do is to file the complaint. They can't do anything if no one tells them."

This is the right thing to do. I know this is true. I know this is right.

So I wrote it, and then sat on it some more.

Today I went and printed it out, but before I did that, I emailed the investigator who handled the original complaint:

Dear Sgt.

 

You were the investigator on a Citizen's Complaint I filed in June 2011 regarding Matthew L-----------'s use of the identity "Matt T-----." It recently came to my attention that Officer L-------- is using a third identity and is posing as an 18 year old on a social media website. I am very uncomfortable with this information and really want no part of another complaint, but when I called IA downtown and asked them what the right thing to do was, they said I should file another Citizen's Complaint.  I just wanted to ask if you agree with that or have different advice. I am still terrified of L------ and I'm concerned he'd try to claim I was harassing him or something if I filed a second complaint. (That whole bit on the form about the officer being entitled to file civil action is very disconcerting.) But my concern that he may be corresponding with minors, or that he's possibly some kind of an online predator scares me even more. I'm just not sure what to do.

Emily

 

And he responded:

 

Miss -----,

 

It disappoints me greatly to hear these allegations.  Our Internal Affairs Office was correct in directing toward filing another complaint.  Please do not let the required legal wording, located on our form, dissuade you from filing a justified complaint.  Your allegations have many ramifications and if true need to be dealt with.  I have made our Woodland Area's Acting Commander, ----------, aware of your contact and noted concerns.  I will be forwarding your original e-mail (below) to the Woodland Area so they may have it for any possible subsequent file.  If you do not hear from the Woodland Area in the very near future please feel free to contact them directly through the information provided below.

 

Sgt.

 

 

So, with a lot of apprehension, I mailed this yesterday. But the Sgt's comments are re-assuring.

Going to Court, Part 1

Although everyone said I did really well in court, I did not feel adequately prepared. Everything was put off until the last minute. I couldn't find clothes, I couldn't find someone to do my hair, I was running around making copies the night before. I didn't get to start writing my speech until almost midnight the night before and was nearly hysterical as I had not been able to reach my attorney. I cried off and on the whole day before and was extremely stressed. This is exactly what I did not want for this day.

I did manage to get my copies done, organized into a binder organized by my talking points. I made copies of items I did not want to present to the court unless Matt tried to deny them, but I brought them in case he did.

I found a top at Target the night before, showered, dyed my hair and blow-dried it before I went to bed. My mom, dad and his wife all came in to town that afternoon.

I got up a little late on the morning of, after 5:30am. I couldn't find something or other, and was about 15 minutes late picking up my mom.

About half way there I realized I had forgotten my Xanax prescription that morning and started to hyperventilate on the freeway. My mom grabbed me and made me slow down my breathing and calm down my crying. I was just so freaked out.

We got there and parked facing the court house door so I could watch as to when it opened, and to make sure we were the first ones there. I knew the court house door wasn't open yet, so my mom and I stayed in the car. I opened my binder and it blew up in my lap. A ton of my pages fell out and my mom tried to grab it and I screamed at her STOP STOP STOP STOP! Then I burst into heaving tears and apologized over and over- I hadn't meant to yell. I was just SO tense and SO freaked out. She tried to help me get everything back where it was supposed to be, and held it tight so it wouldn't break open again.

A couple minutes later I noticed a car pull up about 5 spaces to our right, with a woman driving with dark hair like mine, and a man in the passenger seat. I instantly thought, "It's them." But then had to redirect my mind that it wasn't. I turned away, and then my Dad and his wife, and then my friend Cecilia pulled up. We all had our cars lined up in parking spaces next to each other, and rolled down the windows to talk back and forth. We planned to have everyone sworn in, in case there was a question of our proof of service (Cecilia did a sub-service on him, so she could attest to that), and the rest all had witnessed my emotional distress.

I looked up and suddenly realized that the people who had been in the car a few spaces over had gotten out and were walking up to the ramp of the courthouse. They were holding hands. He was wearing something dark, and she had a red sweater on. That's all I saw. I knew it was them.

I was upset, but tried to look away, and Cecilia was already asking me another question about something else, and I was trying to practice my speech one last time. Then I saw they had been let into the building, they were the first ones there, which upset me. We had gotten there so early so that wouldn't happen. I had a specific plan about where I wanted everyone to sit in the waiting room so we could be first in the court room door and could snag the first row of seats behind the Plaintiff's podium so even if my family didn't stand up with me, they would be RIGHTTHERE with me.

I hurridly read through the rest of my speech and got out. This is when the chaos started.

I had put a towel down for my mom to sit in in the car, but not myself. I had cat hair and dog hair and lint all over my black skirt suit, and was trying to get it off so I didn't look like a mess. My dad and his wife seemed to be picking each individual piece of hair off my jacket like it was some kind of science experiment. (DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND URGENCY?) They were also laughing, and joking, which I did not take kindly to.

This was serious for me, I don't care if it's "small claims." You treat this experience with reverence and respect out of your respect for ME and how much I have repeatedly told you it means to me.  I actually took my jacket away from them and had Cecilia lint roll it, and we started walking into the court. I looked over, and my dad is wearing a t-shirt, with his button down open and hanging everywhere.

"Um, you need to button your shirt."

"Oh, no I'm not wearing this, I'm just wearing the t-shirt."

"We are going in to COURT. Please button your [button down] top."

"This is not formal, it's not a big deal or anything." Then he laughed.

"We are GOING IN TO COURT. BUTTON YOUR SHIRT NOW. EVERYONE ELSE IS DRESSED APPROPRIATELY.  BUTTON YOUR SHIRT." I turned on my heel and walked next to Cecilia and just ahead of my mom. I was so pissed he was not taking this seriously. If he had tried to walk into the courthouse (I do not CARE if it is in a portable.) just wearing a t-shirt, I would have asked him to leave. My mom said afterwards she was startled he wasn't in a suit. So was I. My dad lived in suits most of my life, and he certainly wore a suit to my sister's hearing a few years ago. I asked my mom and everyone else what they would be wearing, I did not even worry about my dad because I knew he would be dressed appropriately. But he wasn't.

I didn't hear it, but I guess my mom overheard the conversation between him and his wife-
"Did Emily ask you to button that shirt?"
"Well, yeah, but I'm not wearing this button down, I just had that on to warm up a little. I'm wearing this t-shirt."
"She asked you to button it. Button it. Now."

So I guess he did. And then when I ran into the bathroom (I was having horrific diarrhea from nerves and needed to cry and pull it together), I guess he went in the men's room and tucked his shirt in too.

Why bring a button down if you don't intend to wear it? Why in the heck would you ever think it is okay to wear a t shirt to court? My dad is 70 years old. He knows better. It really hurt my feelings that again, I was not given the same respect as my siblings have been in their life challenges. I was very anxious about something like this happening with him and his wife, and it did, but it was okay I guess. He buttoned his freaking shirt!

I got sick in the bathroom, tried to clean myself up, mopped up my tears (you should always, always, always try wearing liquid eyeliner for the first time in your life when you plan on crying a lot and have no idea how to apply it.) and when I walked out of the bathroom-

Yes, my family sat in the row of seats closest to the court room door like I told them. But did they sit in the seats closest to the door? NO. They sat all the way at the end, as far from the door as possible but still in that row. Why does that matter beyond nit-pickiness and not following my anxiety-ridden directions? The seats they left for me to sit in FACED Sydney and Matt.

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!

I started to spaz out again, and then Cecilia and I ducked to some seats around the corner where we couldn't see anyone and I started raging about my idiot family.

This is where Cecilia snorted and said that, "Watching you interact with your parents is like watching a science experiment."

I laughed out loud at that.

My dad came around the corner, and wanted to know what was so funny, and tried to crack some jokes. I didn't remember what he said, but all I could think was, I am trying to focus here. Please take this seriously. Just stop. You're making me tense and distracting me from what I need to do. Then he started in with the anxious head/hair ruffling and pulling up his pants. I wanted to scream. Cecilia realized my whole body was shaking and trembling- I hadn't even noticed.

Then they called us in!

I rushed around the corner to go in with my family, but Matt and Sydney had sat so close to the door they were immediately behind my mom. I practically RAN to get in ahead of her so I wouldn't walk in behind them, but I think I ended up walking in in front of Matt. I was totally shaking.  We went right to the front and there was the usual shuffling around figuring out who was going to sit where.

I wanted my mom, Cecilia and Daniela in the front row (two strongest emotional supports + attorney) but Daniela wasn't there yet, but initially my dad and his wife went there, and I groaned. After some shuffling my mom, Cecilia, my dad and I ended up in the front row, and his wife in the second.

They called roll, and we were first on the list. FIRST. They then informed us that we would have to exchange all paperwork/discovery we would be presenting with the other party prior to our hearing beginning because the case was so long. Everyone had apparently discussed it already. When the mediator called to see who wanted to mediate, I raised my hand, as I had planned, but she pointed at me and said, "I will NOT work on your case. Sorry." And gave me a look like, Holy crap are you guys a screaming mess.

This is where I got thrown off, and what I am having a lot of trouble coping with and letting go of now.

I had made copies of absolutely everything that could potentially be relevant. But I didn't want to give things like, receipts that listed my doctor's name, the date of my last pap, my medical record number, etc., unless I needed to, to contest something he said.

So there I was, frantically flipping through this HUGE binder, that kept breaking open and the pages falling out as I very haphazardly tried to pull out the pages I needed out of the page protectors. The baliff was standing right there, which of course made me anxious, and then I felt pressured to get it all out as fast as possible. I had timed the pulling out of each relevant sheet of paper during my speech, so I was totally thrown trying to pull out 58,284,957 papers while they started calling other cases since I was taking too long. I felt hugely pressured and flustered.

This is where I made mistakes. I didn't pull out every piece of paper because it was taking too long. I also got confused and thought my citizen's complaint from the CHP wasn't needed. I had forgotten there were three other documents attached to the set of pages that had the citizen's complaint on top. I also didn't know that Matt intended on claiming our relationship ended the previous October based on an email I sent him in the fall of 2009. The Citizen's complaint detailed our relationship in total, and showed that my story was consistent.

In contrast, the CHP's copy of my statement was wrong, and manipulated the dates. It also made it sound like our relationship ended in October. I had sent a correction to the CHP, and that was in my initial filing, but the info in the statement was wrong.

When Matt sent his paperwork over to me, the only thing he had was the email I had exchanged with Sydney that detailed our relationship. I saw some things were highlighted, but I skimmed it only briefly to verify that they hadn't altered my email. I did see it had been moved into a word doc and that the time stamps were gone. I had brought the same email, but mine had time stamps, and our profile pictures in the body of each message. Since they were submitting the email, I did not think I needed to submit my copy of the message. It looked accurate to me, so I said okay. I held on to my copy.

Tonight I went through my papers and reviewed the emails I had exchanged with Sydney again. My copy is close to 10 pages, and is in small print.

Matt's copy was half that length, in a much larger font,  but included the beginning and end of my message. They removed the middle. The part where I described in detail how we got back together in the Spring of 2010 and were a couple through the summer.

Why does this matter? The only questions the judge asked Matt were in relation to the fraud. Specifically, he asked him did he lie about his name, when did he tell me about his double life, when did I find out about it, if he didn't tell me and when exactly did our relationship end? There were several questions about when our relationship ended and Matt claimed it ended in October of 2009, because in my letter to Sydney, I stated we broke up.

In the next paragraph, I talked about how we stayed in contact, stayed committed to each other, and patched it all up and worked it all out by February of 2010.

When I spoke verbally, I described this, and assumed the letter they had backed me up. Had I remembered to submit my citizen's complaint, it would have also shown the consistency of my story.

But I didn't. I didn't know. I didn't realize what they did. I also did not know I should take notes when he spoke and I felt overwhelmed and upset afterwards because I couldn't keep track in my head all of the things he was lying about or that I needed to respond to and I missed my chance to respond to that stuff.

Anyway we are up through me rifling through my papers in the court room. That's Part 1. I needed to talk about the above because I am really upset about it. I want to let go here, I want to just... release it. And I am dwelling and beating myself up for my mistakes and I don't want to. I want to not care.

Therapy tomorrow, maybe that will help.