Yesterday was a long day.
Sometimes, like the truth, you can feel the end of something as if it were a physical thing. Something in the air is different, irrevocably so. For me, what happened yesterday with Darth Maul, has felt like a lead balloon in my stomach. Before there had always been hope. But I knew it was coming this time – I brought it on myself. Which is good. It was needed. I am a woman of action, sitting around waiting for something that may or may not happen has never been my style.
Sarah – and I’m saying your name loud and clear, even though I know you will never see this – you need to pull your head out of your ass. I wish you good luck with your hopes – who knows, maybe you’ll be the next Mrs? You’re attractive, smart, young – the world is your oyster. He has a hole in him that he is trying to fill – he’s poured woman after woman into it in hopes of sating himself – searching for that missing piece. But he hasn’t. And as much as you are special and unique and no doubt all that and a bag of chips, he has already lied to you. I know. I know you are hoping that during this time of therapy with his wife, he will fix himself. That somehow you will become even more apart of his life – like your plans of moving there, that he passed off to me as you were a delusional stalker – “thank you for knowing I have a stalker coming my way. Thanks for the heads up.”
I asked him about you, after stumbling over you in his social media. The dangers of posting your face on tumblr and then other places – but only if you care (as you can see, I don’t either). I believed that he was really working at saving his marriage. I championed him, saying I knew he could change. When I asked him, he denied you – even though your own social media tells an entirely different tale. Again, he chalked that up to your own special brand of crazy. And me reading into things. I don’t think I am, and I don’t think, as he would have me believe, that you’re crazy.
I’m sure I got the same treatment/kind words (that he said about you to me), when he spoke to you about me. I’m sure you got the “this is not good-bye.” talk – how could it possibly be good-bye? I see your hope, you wear it on your sleeve pinned to your heart, like I did. And there is nothing for it. My heart has felt the same way. My journal is these pages (and those of my other tumblr too).
In my book that I am writing, there is a place my sister and I have dubbed “Crazy Town” where we talk out various scenarios about love and relationships. I showed him the map I drew. We laughed and made up new places together. He dubbed himself Dean of Sexual Studies at the University of Crazy Town. There is also a cemetery. I fell so hard for him, god, like nothing I’ve ever felt in my entire life (and it’s not like he was my first rodeo!), I would even go as far as to say, he has been my greatest love. Deep, hard and unconditional. If he hadn’t lied to me about you (he told me he cut you lose in January), my hope would probably still be there, even in the current stupid state of things with his wife. I know where you are. Welcome to Crazy Town. Right now you are on the good side of the tracks – where love conquers all, and there is a rosy glow of hope over everything.
I told my sister, after meeting Mr. Maul, aka Mountain-View-Dom, during the whirlwind when I fell in love, I knew what would happen. My heart wouldn’t survive it. I would be burying my heart. Burying it and salting the earth. I even drew a little lone crow on the arched gate of the Cemetery. One crow sorrow.
So Sarah, I recognize that I am jealous of you (it’s not pretty, but I can be honest with myself about it) – you and your hope (and your 23 year old body) – the fact that he clearly chose you, but I don’t envy you the journey you are on, since I don’t have a lot of faith that it is going to work out well for you. And that’s not jealousy talking, that’s a girl who’s heart is broken, and knows how badly it hurts. I’m sure you could easily just chalk this/me up as just another crazy ex (I’m sure he’s tossed me into that pile already) – this won’t happen to you, you’re special, different – it must be true, he’s told you so. But if it all works out you can send me a Christmas card, with a picture of you guys and the kids you’ll have. Better yet, tweet it.
As for the rest of life, it is high time I get started with the 14 days of awesome. I have a giant hole in my chest, but I’m not in any hurry to fill it. Besides, I kind of like the noise it makes when the wind whistles through.