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#24 11/1/14 The other worst part of breaking up …doing it again

I take a deep breath as I begin to write this.  It’s fresh, very fresh, like Wed night, two nights ago, last minute visit to my therapist who I like to drop in on when someone I love dies or a relationship ends fresh.  I’ve had a lot of both in the recent years.

Shortly after my last post of top ten things that are hard when you break up, I agreed to take a call from my ex about one and half weeks after he broke up with me. First it came as a text, asking if he could call me, I immediately apologize for not sending him his belongings yet because I am packing for the move, he says that’s not why he called.  I then text if the kids were ok, he says yes, I then text if he is ok and he says “not really.” He gets the kids to bed and calls. I am speechless, I am paralyzed, I am shocked, literally shocked, I can’t believe the words I am hearing.  He explains that he feels he made a mistake and  made his decision in haste and anger and he has really been missing me.  He asks to drive up to see me the next day, to talk with me, to try and see if we can….. try again.

I’m anxious, nervous waiting for him to arrive. I jump as the phone vibrates in my hand, I look down and see the text “I’m Here”, a text I awaited each time he came to visit for the 9 months we were together.  He comes up the sidewalk and our eyes lock, he walks in, we hug, cry, hug and cry. We go to lunch, he takes responsibility for everything, he tells me where he went wrong, where he let us down, what he now knows and how he loves me, how much he loves me, how much he missed me, how much he needs me and how much he wants to be with me.

I’m scared, fucking terrified to trust him, almost 10 days ago I was sobbing and packing when we parted.  Luckily I had enough distractions, purchasing my first home, getting a new car and switching jobs.  I associate my house purchase with him, he was with me every part of the way and even came to my inspection.  At the restaurant he is vulnerable, open, honest, open-hearted totally open, it’s on his sleeve, on the pancakes, the table, in the coffee, slowly running over my hands and back into my heart.  I’m choking on a mixture of pain, hope, sadness, confusion, anticipation, fear, fear, fear…..so much fear but its dripping in the sweet sticky syrup of want, desire and heartache.  Within a week we are pretty much back together.  Things go great, wonderful, we are open, he communicates what he is thinking, what he is feeling, we tackle the potential problems, head on, together #teamlisaandmike.

It takes three months before I find myself in the exact same place.  Asking him not to make this decision, not to do this again, not to run because he is full of fear, not  to give up on us,   but I have already lost him and I know it.  I know he is starting therapy on Saturday I tell him lets not make any decisions now, lets wait, I’ll give him time, no pressure, he can start therapy and I will just wait and be here for him. I’ll wait, I’ll wait, I’ll wait my voice trails off a sad whisper giving up.

He is not willing, able, he can’t do it anymore.  Prior to today he had been talking to friends about us, explaining how we have been fighting too much, his friends tell him that is part of being in a relationship and that every couple works through it.  As a last-ditch effort he went to his parents home and talks to them. His mother tells him to stick with it and keep trying because we love each other but his Dad tells him to bail and he does.  He was just waiting, waiting for that one person to say “leave” it was the permission to submit and he took it.

I feel a flush of anger like a burning shot from my stomach through my heart into my throat.  I’m so fucking pissed off.  He fucking sold us out, he sold me out.  He let a person outside our relationship judge us and decide our fate. His dad who is responsible for so much of the baggage he carries today.  He objects and weakly argues he didn’t “let Daddy make his decision”  “Daddy didn’t tell him what to do.”  I’m sickened, disgusted, ” “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”    You  have just made it so we can never be together again or ever be around your family, you’ve made it impossible for me to love or ever be loved by your family .  For me in that moment the love is replaced by hate. The next two days are about wiping all traces of each other off Instagram, a few more weepy texts, and the packing up of his shit and mailing it out.  I meditate, I cry, I curse, I yoga, I spend time with friends and text everyone the update. It’s over.

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The worst parts of breaking up…..#23 8/3/14

When you and your lover or boyfriend/girlfriend break up there are several shitty things you must do or go through as part of the healing getting over their ass process. I have compiled what I think are probably the most distrubing.

The Worst Parts of Breaking Up

1. No more regular sex. No quickies, no weekend fuck festarama 2014, no moments of really long, really satisfying, deeply connected SEX SEX SEX whenever and wherever you are. No experimenting, no charging up the toys, no new positions to be tried, no having sex on different new furniture, no fantasies to fulfill in the back row at the movies or sneaky touches under a table or while standing in a crowded public place. I liked, no loved sex with my ex, well while we were together so not technically my ex. We were well matched according to the Zodiac and it was true.

2. The first times you go out with your “couple” friends and you are not a couple anymore.

3. No more morning coffee runs while you cooked breakfast waiting for him to get back.

4. Missing his kids because you liked them and they liked you and they are kids and they don’t understand all this.

5. Hiding or at least isolating all the pictures of him, and you and him, and his kids, and you and him and his kids, and him and his kids. Bascially you put them all in one folder but there seems to always be a straggler and you will come across it and it will make you sad for that moment captured in that photo.

6. Throwing out or giving back or sometimes still wearing his special Tshirt. Especially if it smells like him, it stings the heart instantly and inevitably the tears follow.

7. Gifts they gave you, at first your instinct is to give them back because your mad or you want it all gone them, the reminders, the love. I look around my place and it has previous gifts that people who loved me gave to me or made for me and I’m glad I kept them.

8. Collecting the memorabilia ticket stubs, wrist bands from festivals, your first overnight trip and putting it somewhere where you won’t see them everyday but not in the garbage because you aren’t ready yet.

9. Feeling great, feeling like you are healed, even flirting with a new guy, fantasizing about a new man maybe someone you know or someone you haven’t met yet and then suddenly he creeps back into your mind. It’s sad.

10. Having to tell your story over and over to friends, family and sometimes strangers as you work hard to steady your voice. They love you and support you and lend you their shoulder readily because they are the love you always have, no matter who you date or don’t date. So this may actually be a good thing being reminded of he beautiful smart people who love you with all their heart and want you to be happy so they sit patiently holding your hand until you are ready to fly again.

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What’s the expiration date on happiness? 8/2/14 #22

I believe that overall I am a very upbeat, positive, go getter type of person. Although I have seemed to have several tragedies within the last couple of years I am resilient as fuck. I always land on my feet and everything works out just fine. Sure some of my setbacks or losses have taken me longer to work through and perhaps some will always stay with me, but in the end I end up happy once again. I have begun taking more note of the truely happy moments and find that those real moments of bliss and warmth and contentment are a few seconds or maybe minutes long. Driving with the windows down, sun on my face, music blaring and there it is, a smile creeps over my face, I haven’t a care in the world, I feel good, I feel full, I feel bliss. Moments later, it quietly fades away.

It’s not that when that feeling fades, that I am unhappy or that I stop feeling good. I just go from feeling elevated to feeling back to my normal cruising altitude. These nano-moments happen everywhere, in yoga for that like 20 seconds when I can actually hold tree pose, right after I clean the entire house, at work when I make a difference, being in the middle of cooking a healthy clean meal with a good beer in one hand, stir stepping and dancing around the kitchen, or those first few seconds after an amazing orgasm with the person you love or feel crushingly connected to. Over, done, finito, terminado, the end and then back to your normal you. Being normal me is pretty good, often fun but it can also be stressful, lonely at times, overwhelming and deep like the kind of deep that can make you tired.

These things make up most of us or at least those of us that are aware of our role in this world and the connection to those that surround us. I have seen the “ignorance is bliss” play out in people’s lives, those totally unreal, completely not normal HIGHLY ELEVATED people. I’m suspicious of those people because I think a balanced life includes a dose of reality, some soul searching and moments of heartache.

I used to always ask my ex boyfriend “Are you happy?” I think hoping to catch him in his moments of bliss, I think there may have been times when I did, I’m not sure. I know that while we were together at times I felt a smile creep over my face, I felt like I didn’t have a care in the world, I felt good, I felt full, I felt bliss but about 2 weeks ago it was time to come down to my normal cruising altitude and maybe even encounter some turbulence. We had been arguing and struggling more than usual for the past two months same old same old. He was a people pleaser I’m totally direct, he is scared of putting his ass out on the line when something matters to him and once asked me where I got my strength from, I didn’t know the answer. I think now that it comes from heartache, feeling like life has knocked you down but you still got back up. He has been knocked down but never really got up again. We had these talks before, wondered if we should be dating “now” but when I asked he never wanted to take a break.

We loved each other and I believe he was given to me, brought to me to hold my hand through the death of my mother and my dear friend Becky’s end to her battle with breast cancer. We were in each others karmic path. He made his contributions to my life and I to his but not without our small scars along the way. Our relationship took him out of his comfort zones many many times and as a result hightened his anxiety. When you date someone who suffers from depression it’s like there is a third person in the relationship that silently has an impact on your life. If I am honest with myself I knew it was coming and I didn’t do anything about it.  I left it to him and one nasty fight where we both forgot to remember to be kind, forgot to listen to each other and forgot that we were defensive because of our individual baggage. It makes me sad that I didn’t rise above that line because it only would have taken one of us to soften up the other and provide a reason to allow clear heads and full hearts to prevail but we reached the end and went our seperate ways at the fork on the path of bliss.

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I want what I want, wait what do I want again? #20

I’m the youngest of 5. My three older sisters and older brother all grew up together with 3-4 years in age. I came later, much later, 10 years later.  A real oooops I suppose.  What I do know about myself is that I have youngest and only child qualities and that can make for some difficulties, especially in relationships.  I take every relationship as a learning experience and continue to work on my 80/20. There is a theory that you really only get 80% of what you want in a relationship,  and you may want your partner to be an avid reader or have an appreciation for the arts but he/she doesn’t, but it’s ok because the 80% of what you do get keeps you happy. People often believe cheaters forever chase the 20%. The key is knowing what is in your must have 80% and what you can let go of and put it in your 20%.

This is a theory I have applied to many relationships, he is great in bed but doesn’t like to give backrubs, he compliments me and tells me I look pretty but he isn’t into going to concerts etc.  My friends and I are forever trying to figure out what is in our 80%, what can we compromise on and what are our dealbreakers.  I look at the wonderful man I am dating now and still think of taking my fluffy side sleeper pillow in the middle of the night admist his buzzsaw snores and covering his face with the full weight of my body, slowly pressing the pillow tighter till I create an unbreakable seal between his mouth/nose and the pillow.  Why the hell would I want to do that? he tells me he loves me, he wants to see me and drives 1 hour and a half regularly to spend weekends with me.  He cuddles me as I fall asleep and when I wake up in the morning.  He recently built me a side table that marveled the one I wanted to buy in a bullshit fu fu store in Oakbrook.  I literally and I do mean literally made a pros and cons list long ago to determine what was our  my 80/20.  Some of the highlights vulnerability (especially at the start), incrediably loving and supportive especially when my mother passed, great sexual chemistry,  very open minded sexually, takes responsibility, great around my friends, smart, and non judgemental.  There is much more so why do I tend to react or sometimes get stuck on the 20%?  My biggest gripe? he seems to run hot and cold which depending on if you come from my perspective or his can mean very different things.  I feel like the romantic little texts, the little sweet texts reminding me that he loves me, that he is so lucky, that he is thinking of me etc etc go a long long long way.  It’s the way to a woman’s heart and eventually her libido. It’s romance and as a youngest who usually had attention bestowed on her and is an extrovert who is accustomed to speaking up and getting what she wants this can be hard for me.  Whenever I have talked to him about this he does everything he can to respond and show me love in the way I am craving it.  He sends those sweet, caring texts he remembers to remind me of how he feels about me multiple times during the day and then it dwindles….again.  People have told me to put it in my 20% and move on but I can tell you those short little middle of the night or day texts expressing how he feels about me directly impact my connection to him.  I feel loved, cared about and important, in turn, I feel more love, care and importance for him.  I want to be more physical with him when I am romanced like that I feel more sexual, turned on, desired and desiring.

Depending on the friends I speak with, some agree, some say it’s not as important as I am making it, but perhaps it is.  Maybe I would rather trade someone who makes a lot of money for someone who would bring me a single flower, a card or a hand written note reminding me of how he feels about me. Wait not maybe I would. The things we consider uber important in our 20s are such a crock of shit. There has even been some shifting since my 30s.  Now in my mid 40s I think I am so less willing to give up on the 80% and what goes in there and if it meets my needs.  To someone else this might be minor but for me it is perhaps my love language and how I feel connected to a person, a sense of belonging.  It also no doubt fills a void from childhood, words of affirmation were not used in my household, from my parents for any of us kids.  My Dad instilled a sense of responsibility and pride you did what was right and what was expected because that’s what was modeled.  For my Dad thats how life was, you don’t do something for thr praise, glory, reward, compliments or accolades, you just do it.  My Mother on the other hand was rough and many times abusive and critical and manipulative. If she wasn’t expressing herself in this way then you were ignored…..completely. Like some ghost sitting among your siblings, everyone’s name was called for dinner except yours.  Now if you got up to get something to eat or make your plate she wouldn’t stop you but she didn’t invite or include you.  She was a master at the silent treatment and would often want your siblings to partake in not acknowledging your presence either.  We never did that to each other, well I do have one sibling that sometimes did because she was to starved form my Mother’s approval.

Real life sets in when you start a relationship the honeymoon and swoon turns to everyday routines and a comfortable compatibility.  I get that and I to a degree can accept that.  However I am realizing more and more how important the romance and verbal/physical expressions of love are to me and why.  I think for now it will remain in my 80% with a compromise that for now I will ask him for it when I need it.  Time will tell how we and I evolve.

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4/1/12 Breathing is not optional/15

Chest pain….breathe……pain in my lungs…..hard to breathe…..nauseous… gasp….ouch….ugh…….gasp…..

I’m fighting the feeling of wanting to puke, my chest hurts, I’m holding something in, it wants to explode it wants to release,  it’s literally building up in my throat, I can’t breathe, the words are hardly coming out……

Yes, Yes, I’ll call the lawyer tonight and leave my information tonight and follow up on Monday. The conversation fades in and out of my ear my sister is saying things but I’m not hearing it all,  just ….Lawyer, call, money, just us sisters, not mom…….

My sister Lucy called me and I missed the call, for some reason I just felt a weird sick response, my sister calls sometimes but this time the missed call made me feel weird made me feel like something was happening.  I took a deep breath and peed siting on the toilet I was thinking that it might be my mother, that this might be the, THE CALL that is the one that ends the existence of my parents on this earth.  I’ve been through it before when my niece had to tell me my dad died.  I picked up the phone and dialed my sister Lucy….waiting waiting waiting CALL FAILED, shit this damn service if I had to call and ambulance to save my life TMOBILE would see to it that I would die before receiving help.  I dial again CALL FAILED, I turn off my phone and turn it on again, dial and wait as I stretch my arm up hoping that will help. I hear a ringing.

Hello?

Hi it’s me what’s up?

I called you earlier and left a message

Yeah I know what’s going on?

How are you?

I’m good what did you need?

Betty called me and she wants your address and phone number, I don’t know if you are talking to her….her voice fades

Yeah I am talking to her why does she want to my address

I don’t know

ok.

I can call her and give her that information or you can….. she interrupts,   I would just just prefer if you call her

(I am assuming she has mail that needs to be forwarded to me) What does she need it for?

You should just call her and talk to her

This is now beginning to sound ominous. We talk about possible Easter plans and she invites a boyfriend that I am no longer dating I say no but I appreciate that she has extended the offer to him. He would probably come if I asked him to he is like that.  We wrap up the conversation with a promise to touch base on times for Easter.

Dial my sister Betty it rings and my brother-in-law picks up I say hi and ask for my sister. She gets on the phone and we exchange pleasantries and then I say Lucy said you needed my address what’s up? She begins to explain.

We got lawyer and he is working on claiming Tony’s 401k  for us, if we don’t claim it the state will keep it and it will be lost.  This doesn’t include the nieces or mom just us. Just us girls, just the sisters.  It’s been over a year so the creditors can’t touch it but if we don’t act now the state will get it.  So we have to claim it and he needs each one of ours information.

Ok I say and repeat the information back making sure I understood everything. I say for us? for the sisters right? she says yes and says again not for mom in a way that tells me she doesn’t want her to know. She says  “I don’t know if you are talking to her..” I interrupt “No, I’m not” she says “good I don’t want her getting involved”. I say everyone’s names out loud again to confirm I ask if she has spoken to my sisters. She says yes.

She gives me the run down and the information of the person I need to call and I have a sick feeling creeping up I can’t get off the phone fast enough.  The second I do it all comes pouring through.  I begin sobbing, I feel like I’m going to be sick all over the kitchen, my head pounds, my chest tightens, I sob and wail harder and harder and harder.  I walk to a chair in the front room and with my elbows on my knees I cover my face and cry into the mask of my hands. Tears and snot drip from my face, I feel like I can’t breath, my chest feels tight, my ear hurts, I feel dizzy, I’m loud, I cover my eyes with the backs of my hands and gasp for a breath, it’s hard to breath, my chest hurts, I get up to walk toward the bathroom my hands on the walls keeping me balanced and upright as I walk, entering the bathroom I lean over the sink and cry harder and louder I slide to the floor and struggle to catch my breath between sobs.  I feel like throwing up I feel like I’m having a heart attack, I feel like the day I finally let the grief out and allowed myself to mourn the death of my brother.  This time the difference is that I physically feel ill, I feel like I can’t breathe, I feel like my chest is tight, I feel like I need to throw up and I can’t stop crying, loud and hard.  My hands and arms twist around covering my eyes, face head and chest at times.  I can’t make it stop. I can’t make myself stop and I don’t know why this is all coming crashing back in this way. I feel so dizzy I think I might have to go to the hospital, I struggle to breath and think I maybe hyperventilating.  Several minutes go by like this and I can’t regain control or calm myself. 15 minutes feels like 15 hours.

Why? this reaction? I’m not even exactly sure. My niece had a meltdown when she inherited money that my brother had left her she felt guilty, bad or undeserving that she should have this because the reason she was getting it was his death.  I don’t think I understood it when she told me, I knew it made her sad but I didn’t understand the depth of that. It’s hard for me to feel good about this at all on any level, it’s hard for me to think about this, it makes me feel like I’m right back at square on with the progress I’ve made in moving forward after his death.  I never suspected that all those wounds would be ripped open like this again from such and event.

The last 2 days more of his songs have came on and I skipped through them rather than listen through them I always believe he is around me and trying to communicate with me but I rushed those songs through and didn’t listen and today he was finally heard.

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11.29.11 When you call you ex a cunt say it like you mean it/8

Hmm so here I sit in on my bed writing this and going back and forth on match.com with some ass who just told me to take a hike cause I wouldn’t give him my number after 2 emails. I’m sitting in my room avoiding my ex, up until literally 4 days ago we were exes no longer in love, transitioned to friends with a really healthy and honest love and respect for each other.  Now getting here was like slicing your nipple off slowly with a rust nailclipper but I recently thought “we’re here and I’m really proud of us”.

Insert needle scratching across the record here…..LOUDLY.  It all started Sat night when she returned from St Louis where she is from it seemed like literally over the course of a few days of her being gone someone set our clock back 6 months where it was constant screaming, fighting, defensiveness, distrust and pain. Welcome back misery cause it seems you have been lonely.

Things happened so quickly and escalated before I knew what was happening the pinnacle of our arguement being her telling me that I needed to run it by her first before having the guy I was dating over for dinner.  Bitch please.

” I don’t want some strange dude all over our house, didn’t you think you should ask me? run it by me first? find out if I was ok with it? ”  What the fuck is she saying? is she telling me I can pay ALL the bills covering her ass and half the rent and not have someone over??    “How do you think I feel knowing there was some guy in our house on the couch that was our couch that we used to lay on and in the bed that used to be our bed?”  Insert louder needle scratching across the record….. Uh that isn’t our bed it’s my bed and it’s none of your buisness who I have in it.  From there on out the conversation goes down hill she accuses me of “poking at her and judging her”   I accuse her of being the shittiest friend in the world because she is blowing me off for 3 events/plans we had in Decemeber .  “Things are different now because I have Alicia” she says.  I’m thinking the only thing different is that suddenly you are nuts again being uber bitch and being reactive to anything and everything that comes out of my mouth.

After hours of arguing she admits it to some degree however it is always followed up with a “BUT YOU……”  now that’s  language one uses in an attempt to resolve matters right?   I’m not innocent I don’t think I poke at her but I certainly speak my mind and it drives her literally insane she wishes she could stop me, she wishes the things I said didn’t have a grain of truth but they do and probably why they piss her off.  B ut I’m not your mother that isn’t my issue it’s yours maybe you need to go back to therapy but when you compare me to your mother that is not our current reality.   This makes her mad really mad. She tells me how much she “doesn’t like me” and I feel like I am arguing with one of the preschoolers when they get mad because I have made them go to circle time only when they scream and whine “I don’t like you anymore” I say “but I still like you”.    Half of me wanted to condesendingly say this to my ex but the truth is I don’t really like her not like this.  In the end I am exhausted, crying, in shock and frustration I text F the guy I just broke up with that I am now friends with …..” kill me now”  he responds immediately  offers his support “come meet me out and tell me about it”……for a moment it is although he has literally swooped in on white horse and rescused me not from her but from myself and what I might normally do -keep arguing.

I leave my house at 1am in the morning and meet him out at a bar, he is well on his way to getting trashed and wants me to catch up. We drink, we talk, we drink, we talk , we drink, we laugh, we drink , we tease each other. I pour him out of the bar into my car strangely enough I’m not drunk, buzzed but its like those moments when you pace yourself so you’re not as fucked up as you should be but it doesn’t matter too much he lives one block down from the bar. 4am and I get him out of the car and we go up to his apartment he goes straight into the bathroom and I make him eggs. I make him a plate I open him up a diet coke and get him some water. I check on him several times but he won’t or can’t come out of the bathroom no matter how much I call or knock.

When I yell from the front room I’m leaving he comes out.  He hugs me goodbye I tell him I cooked for him and he thanks me. I tell him to please please not drink that much especially when he is by himself, I tell him I worry about him and he thanks me and says he knows it’s not good. It makes my heartache literally to see someone who has so much to offer seem so sad. I don’t know if it’s sadness but when you get that fucked up it seems like sadness.  I tell him the same things the next day via text I tell him that he or we need to find alternate activities rather than olympic drinking when he has Sunday off and doesn’t have his girls.  He agrees I ask him to promise me and he tells me he hates to break promises so he only tells me that he will try.

Sunday I get home around 5 am plan to get up by 9 and go to the pub to watch a soccer game with friends and my niece, that never happens. I’m dead ass tired but still muster the strength to fight with my ex and text back and forth with F while I do it.  As she goes to leave which she always does I say  Can I ask you something?  she stops and looks at me pissed off and with disdain and I ask……. Why do yo have to be such a little cunt?………………………… I’m so filled with contempt for her it doesn’t even bother me that I said that, I mean it, I mean it like she’s the cuntiest, cunt fucker cunthead in the world I mean in the cuntworld.

I mean it when I said it. I’m angry, I’m frustrated, I’m hurt, I’m confused, I’m let down, I feel like the trust I had in what I thought our friendship was has been betrayed and I still don’t know why.  Was it cause I had F over and yes we laid on the couch that used to be our couch?

I’ve lived here 5 years,  part of that time with an fiancee well before I met her.   On that couch “our couch” as she puts it I have been a very bad girl with several guys, it was MY COUCH, I bought it, I fucked on it, I slept on it, I cried on it, I ate my dinner sitting on it, I watched my TV sitting on it.  My couch and all the same things with MY BED.  Yes I did lay and eat and watch movies on that couch with F Thanksgiving night we fooled around a little on it before moving to MY BED where we performed various sex acts on each other till almost the moment he had to leave to go home and pick up his kids.

In that moment she was a cunt to me. Later when she came back and when we talked and she brought it up I realized I felt bad probably in some part for calling her that because I knew out of all the words I could pick that one would cut the deepest. More so I felt like shit for turning into the kind of person that does that.  I don’t think she could see it because I hide my true feelings well but my heart, spirit and soul felt flushed with shame. I felt like I sold out, I felt like some faliure in my quest to be a good, kind loving person.  It was a low note for me, a very low note,  to think that a person who I loved so much once in my life, that I would talk to so terribly.  I hate that feeling- it sticks with you all day the only escape is sleep.  When I called her a cunt I meant it I really did, I was mad, after that when I wasn’t mad anymore I just felt mean. Mean people suck.

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