It’s Easter morning on the lake today. It’s going to be a long day, I think. M is in NY and Tom has moved on.
I had to cancel Easter Dinner with my family. Considering my no contact stance that only makes sense for me. I don’t have a car.
My SS deposit should have been in last Friday but it wasn’t. I called Chime who told me to call the SSA. I called the SSA to hear that the money has been sent I should check with my bank. I checked with my bank. They say wait 1 – 3 days which means Wednesday.
Tomorrow is April 1st and the rent hasn’t been paid. My PO Box is overdue now so anything that comes in the mail will go into my blocked box.
I didn’t sleep much last night. I was up 3 times throughout the night. The third time, 6:30, I decided to just stay awake.
I’m far more upset with this breakup than Tom is. He has an awesome support system. I know because he posts it on Facebook. I do not. Its just me.
Friday he was at Acapulcos with R, S and G. S and G have been too busy over the last year to meet with me and Tom. My heart aches that, now that I’m gone, they choose to show up.
I’ve believed for the last 2 years of my relationship with Tom, that nobody wanted to meet me. I don’t know why, but, obviously, they don’t.
I’d like to put my finger on something I said or did but I can’t. How could I have offended somebody that I have never met, never even shared words with.
I tried to tell myself that Tom must have been the problem. Maybe because he talks so much. It certainly doesn’t appear to be that.
He gets together with the squad often. I’m not invited. I sit here on my laptop writing about the things that hurt. Making suppositions. Trying to find reason.
I broke up with him because he talks way too much. I’m not sure that alone would be a problem if there was promise in the relationship. There isn’t.
I sit here by the lake while Tom lives a very full life. He works, of course. But he also has an active social life. Out at least once a month with a work group. Once a month with his bff, from work. Out with the boys a couple times a year.
I have nothing.
Going no contact was the right thing to do but I had a support system when I did it.
Don’t get me wrong, my conscious mind says, get up and do something. Even if its alone its better than wallowing. Find a group in the area to hang out with. I’m responsible for my own happiness, I know that.
But, my stomach aches. It aches because he’s out with the girls again.
It hurts because most of the girls have never made any effort to meet me. I hear about all of them from Tom. I don’t know them. They don’t have faces.
I’ve been hurting over this for so long now, I don’t know how else to feel. In my mind, their loss. In my heart, ouch, repeatedly.
I can’t work my way into those relationships, I tried. I can’t force a connection because I don’t even know where most of these people live.
I suggested to Tom, early on, that a firepit in the yard was a wonderful way to have a gathering. It worked once with his family. It worked once with the boys.
The yard is a swamp. Rainfall runs down the slope to a little rock wall. That wall is about one foot high. Often, it’s a waterfall. The whole yard gets flooded and takes days to dry out. No fire.
It’s too hot, cold, windy even when I don’t believe it is.
In the past, I had purchased a chord of wood in the spring and burnt it completely by mid October. Well, that’s when the campground I was visiting closed for the season.
At Toms, 3 years ago, I purchased a chord of wood, confident that I would burn most, if not all. 2 fire seasons later, most of it is still hanging around his yard.
Today is supposed to be in the 50’s. I want to go get the wood for here, the cottage. The crazy lady from apartment 4 is in custody and wont be around today. I’m not sure how long that will last so I should take advantage while I can?
Today, my car will not start so unless I’m going to carry the wood 2 miles, its not an option.
Maybe I could go up in the woods here where there is many branches from a tree the landlord removed. Its probably wet. I’ll get dressed and go look at it around noonish.
Meanwhile, I’ll just ache.
My house doesn’t need any cleaning. My social security check is MIA. I have enough money to buy wood at the convenience store but I don’t want to. I’ve already paid for half of the wood at Toms. He’ll never use it.
Over the last two seasons, he avoids the fire as much as possible. If he must, he will. He cuts the wood into tiny pieces that burn fast and he’s all set to put it out after 2 hours.
I love fire. I love the smell of burning wood. The crackling of the branches. The beautiful gold colors of the flames and the heat on my face. I love feeding more wood into the fire. I want it to last for the whole night. Ok well, 4 hours anyway.
Even if it weren’t because of the talking, this is a deal breaker, too. And here I am telling myself, I’ll just have to wait. I don’t want to wait. I hate waiting.
I have the fire pit. I have a pile of fire fodder stacked in the living room.
I’m going to go put myself together. Then I’ll think more about it all.
I don’t have much food left because I haven’t shopped because my check is MIA.
*****
I’m dressed, I’ve eaten, I’ve had water. Breakups ups aren’t supposed to hurt like this. At least, they never have before. Usually I pack my stuff and sneak away at some point and let my absence do the talking. I’ve never felt like this.
Starting just yesterday with the Slap of abandonment, I’m really hurting. I’m feeling something like regret but I know that I’ve done the right thing. Remorse? Same thing, right. I wish I could just see that he’s feeling bad too but I don’t think he is.
So, what does that mean? I’m not sorry. If I think about my trio of emotions, guilt, shame and fear. I’m not afraid. Is this guilt? Is it shame? I understand the feeling of lowering my head, looking at my feet, and not wanting to look up. I don’t feel that tho. Or, maybe?
I understand sad and I am feeling that. I’m sad because I’m hurting. I don’t understand the hurt. I’m not hurting because of Tom. I’m hurting because he’s having a laugh riot with his ‘girls’. Why do the girls always come first? That sentence hurt.
Shouldn’t I come first? I don’t believe so. But I should be on that ladder right? I think. Somewhere like maybe even equal. Equal feels like a good word. Equal. I’m hurting because I don’t feel equal. That’s true.
I was just walking to the kitchen and saying, ‘Im sure you caught up on their lives, their kids, their wants and hey, Della, POOF (I kicked) get out my way. I’m exhausted. Get out my way is a phrase that a man from a previous world used a lot. He used it when he needed to get his 5’ 7” butt past his dramatically taller employees. ‘Git out m,way’
But wait. If I’m his girlfriend, is equal where I want to be? I’m thinking about a song I love ‘All I wanna be is somebody to you”. Yes, I want to be somebody also. I want to go to Acapulcos to see the people who, I guess, will always matter most.
I’m exhausted. I know exhausted, it’s part of overwhelm which is something we talked about in therapy. I’m not overwhelmed tho. Its different. It must be exhausted.
YKW, I don’t want to restore my relationship with Tom so why am I wasting all this time. Its done. Its over. I need to move on. I hope Tom is checking with his girls to be sure one of them won’t let him die alone.
We hear you,
deMichelle
WIGT, WIGT
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