What Exactly Happened Between Us: Part 2, The Confessions

Are you all ready for Part 2? Here we go.

After the bawling and crying subsided (the sort of crying I was doing could realistically only have lasted 15 minutes max. Otherwise I’d have passed out from sheer exhaustion) and SCL admitted that he really hadn't thought the whole "I want to end our relationship through" (Note: then WTF are you saying it? Don’t you realize that this is the MEANEST THING YOU COULD DO TO ME?), I really wanted to understand what was going on with him. Where was all of this coming from? So I put on my compassionate partner hat and listened.

Now I have to confess something. I am not perfect. Shocking, I know! Back in the fall I did something really stupid. I read SCL’s journal. It was a desperate, albeit pathetic and invasive, attempt to understand what was going on in his head when I suspected his heart wasn’t totally in the relationship. (Maybe I should've just thought of ending it then rather than invading his privacy. The fact that I felt his heart wasn't in the right place would have been reason to say that I was done.) The snooping is not something I’m proud of. And here’s the thing about snooping: whatever you find, you can’t say anything about. It’s pretty much the worst idea in the world unless you by chance happen to find something really great that affirms your relationship. Do not count on this ever happening. In my case, I found just the opposite. I saw the negative side, the dark side, the doubting side, and while I didn’t want to believe it, it was right there in front of me.

Eventually the guilt overtook me and I confessed to SCL that I’d done it. He was FURIOUS with me and rightfully so. I broke his trust, and I really felt like shit about it for months. I gingerly brought up some of the things he wrote, but he obviously didn’t feel like he needed to answer me. I had invaded his trust, and what right did I have to question anything he said? So, I let it go. I tried to forget about it. I never brought up anything I had read.

So, when he told me the night of our "why are we living together" conversation that he’d read my journal, things changed. First, I didn’t really care that he'd done it. I think it’s fantastic that someone would actually find me interesting enough to actually to take the time to read my journal (clearly I am affirmed by this; I’m a blogger who writes about my life and gets excited every single time there’s a new follower!) It was fair that he’d done it, I guess. I’d broken his trust, why shouldn’t he break mine? It was at that point that I thought to myself, to hell with it. I really didn’t care anymore about pretending I didn’t read what he wrote. I wanted the truth. He was being brutally honest about everything else. Our relationship was going down the toilet in front of my eyes, so I had to just go for it. This was my chance.

“Is this about her?” I asked. “Her” being the girl I read about in the pages of his journal, the girl of his past, the girl he seemed to still be thinking about, the one whose pedestal I knew I’d never quite reach.

“No,” he said.

I asked again, “Is this about her?” I asked. “Have you been talking to her?”

And then it came. “Yes. She wrote me yesterday.”

I wanted to scream. I wanted to go find this stupid girl and give her a piece of my mind. I wanted to scream at SCL, “GET OVER IT ALREADY! SHE IS A FANTASY! NO WOMAN WILL EVER LIVE UP TO THE ILLUSION IN YOUR MIND!” Instead, I listened. I asked questions. And for the very first time in our entire relationship, I truly felt SCL was being honest with me. He let me see the note she wrote, a letter that pissed me off with its façade of trying to be respectful of the fact that he was in a serious relationship with me—but also making it a point to say that she still has feelings for him. Don’t even kid me with that line, sister. Women know these things, and she knew what those words would do—they would give him hope that she still loves him, too.

After he’d told me more about her and how he felt, I told him that the way I saw it he had three choices.

1) Cut off all contact with her.

2) Try to have some kind of normal friendship with her (i.e. let me meet me, see that she is a normal person with flaws and everything.)

3) Dump me and go pursue a relationship with her.

Of course I’d hoped he wouldn’t choose the last, but I couldn’t deny it was a choice he could make.

Let me just say I don’t think this woman was the cause of our break-up. Not that it helped. But I do think that SCL’s inability/unwillingness/whatever to let her go was a barrier to him truly loving me and committing to me. I can’t blame her for that. That’s his burden to bear. We all have baggage; this is some of his.

I'm wondering how other women would react to hearing something like this—that she is second best in my man's heart. Honestly I sort of felt good because FINALLY he was sharing with me openly. Emotional stuff aside, in the moment I took it as a step toward real honesty between us and a way to begin rebuilding our relationship on a solid foundation of trust. Maybe I should’ve known better. But I will say that I did everything I could, including being there for him as he admitted his love(?)/feelings for another woman, to be a supportive, loving, compassionate partner no matter what. I thought we could work through even this as long as we were honest and communicated. I didn’t think it was the end of us, but rather a new beginning. I wanted it to be. And deep down I truly believe it could’ve been if that’s what he had wanted.

That's what hurts the most--that I was such a loving, caring, compassionate partner, that I was willing to help him work through even this and whatever else came up, and he still didn't want me anymore. What a loss for him, I know. But it's also a huge loss for me, too--to have my love rejected like that. I know, I know what you're all thinking. But let me just quote Kelly Clarkson and say"That's how I feel right now/ So just let me be."

What Exactly Happened Between Us; Part 1 Version 2.0, A Dramatic Interpretation of the Events of March 9th

Funny, it hasn't been that long, but I've already misremembered how some of this happened. I neglected to mention a big part of this whole conversation that happened between the "I don't think we should live together" and the bawling, snotting, and begging SCL not to leave. Here's the updated version of Part 1--a dramatic interpretation, my own paraphrasing and snarkiness added for effect and possible humor.

(SCL takes me lovingly in his arms. Holds me close)

SCL: Do you have time to talk?

Me: Sure...I guess.

SCL: Why are we living together?

Me: Why are you asking?

SCL: Why are we living together?

Me: Blah blah I love you blah blah we live so well together blah blah I love my life with you blah blah I want to share my life with you blah blah We are so great together blah blah Living with you is so easy blah blah blah

Lovey dovey, kind of nervously spoken affirmations of our relationship continue for several minutes

Me: Why do you think we live together?

SCL: We moved in together because we were going to get engaged. Now we aren't, and I'm wondering if it's a good idea for us to continue to live together just because it makes us happy. I don't think that's enough of a reason.

Me: What? WTF????

SCL: I'm trying to be honest, and it's really hard!

Me: WTF????

I storm out of apartment, call best friend, go shopping, wait until dark to return home to really show him. Return home prepared to let SCL have it big time.

Enter apartment. No SCL in sight. Go to retrieve him from downstairs lobby area.

Me: I have a few things I'd like to say to you. Although you are being honest, which I appreciate, you are also being incredibly selfish. You aren't thinking of me or our relationship in all of this.

SCL: What, do you not want me to share with you how I'm feeling?

Me: No, I want you to be honest, but I'm telling you that what you are honestly feeling IS selfish! You are only thinking of yourself.

SCL: So my feelings don't matter?

Me: They do, but you're acting like your feelings are the only important thing in this situation. This affects both of us. You are constantly changing the course of our relationship based on how YOU feel.

SCL: I just feel dissatisfied and unsettled in the relationship. Living together is still a big adjustment for me. And it's not some little thing that is going to make me feel better. I don't think I'm ever going to feel better about it.

Me (shocked): Why were you not telling me any of this? Why are you waiting until now?

Silence.

Me: So, you want to move out?

Silence.

Me: So, you want to move out...and keep dating?

Silence.

Me: So, you want to BREAK UP WITH ME?

SCL: I feel like that's the only honest thing I can do.

Me: Gasp Butyoupromisedyou'dneverdothistome. Sob Youtoldmeyou'dneverleaveme. Gasp I can'tbelieveyou'redoingthistome. Sob

More crying and gnashing of teeth continue.

End scene
-----

Discussing anything about our relationship was like pulling teeth. I'd ask SCL a question and sometimes wait for 5-10 minutes for him to answer. Sometimes he would never answer my question EVER. It was the most frustrating thing, feeling like he must be thinking something but just not sharing it with me. I felt like I was badgering him, but I couldn't accept silence as an answer. I understood that he has a lot of difficulty sharing his thoughts and feelings (I know, men are taught to repress feelings. Three words: GET A THERAPIST), but c'mon, just a few words would have been helpful. Instead he waited until things got really bad in his head to tell me about it, and by then it was clear his mind had been made up. This wasn't a conversation at all. It was a time for him to reveal how he was feeling and for me to react to it.

All of those minutes I spent waiting for him to say something, anything? I'd like those back, please.

Up until that day, I had NEVER walked out on SCL during a fight. I always managed to keep it together and hear him out, but when he began questioning our relationship and its very foundation, I couldn't handle it. I had to get out, take a breather, and come back for round 2. And it was a good thing I did. You'll never guess what he told me later that night... (Aren't you intrigued?)

Return tomorrow for Part 2 of What Exactly Happened Between Us.

What Exactly Happened Between Us: Part 1

A new blog friend asked "Where is the post where you talk about what happened with your break-up?" And I had to admit that I didn't really have one, except for the vague, ranty post from last Monday afternoon. It was more about how I was feeling than about what went down, which was appropriate at the time. I needed the release. But I haven't told the break-up story, so buckle your seat belts, 'cause here we go.

Let's go back to March 9th. I remember the day because it was three days before I had to give two huge presentations at our board meetings. I was stressed and exhausted when SCL took me by the waist sweetly and asked me sort of sheepishly, "Why do we live together?" What a weird question, I thought. "Why are you asking me?" I replied, suspicious and feeling uneasy about him asking. This couldn't be good. But he kept insisting that I explain why we were living together now that we no longer planned to get engaged in the near future.

Eventually, I decided that I'd just fucking answer the question and began listing dozens of reasons why I loved living with him. I loved sharing our life, I loved his company, I was happy, blah blah blah. He then asks, "Do you think just enjoying living together is enough of a reason to continue living together?" **Let me just say that a year ago, before we moved to DC, SCL and I had a plan. We would move in together, get engaged a year later, and married in 2012. Sounds nice, doesn't it? I sure thought so. Yeah, so moving in together was a step toward marriage. Otherwise I wouldn't have done it.

At this point in the conversation, I was beginning to get agitated. SCL was the one who got cold feet about the engagement, not me. I was ready to take the step; he wasn't. It took me a lot of time to come around to accepting this for the time being, but I finally had accepted it--and now he was using his own fickleness as a justification for moving out?! So I asked, "Do you want to move out? Is that what you're saying?" He went on to say he didn't feel like convenience or being happy was enough of a reason to live together when we had done so with the intention of getting engaged. I couldn't believe it. He was pulling the rug out from underneath me again! First, no engagement. Now, he wants to move out? WTF?!

So, I had to push him again. "Do you want to move out and continue the relationship? Or are you saying you're breaking up with me?" With some hesitance he admitted that he felt ending the relationship was the only honest thing he could do--whatever the hell that meant. I then went into hysterics, bawling and begging him not to do this to me. Over and over again, I was sobbing, "Why are you doing this to me? Why are you doing this to me?" I was snotting everywhere, begging him not go. I was quite the pathetic sight. I couldn't believe what was happening.

Believe it or not, this was NOT the night we broke up officially. That would come later. Even that night, though, I couldn't be angry with him. When he got upset and starting crying, I comforted him. I wanted to understand what was going on, where all of this was coming from. Looking back on it, I see how much more I had been giving all along--trying to understand him, trying to be sensitive and compassionate. I don't regret any of those things. I want to be that kind of partner. But I also want a partner who wants to show me all of those things in return.

To be continued...

(Picture from Ladera Resort, St. Lucia where SCL and I went on vacation last June)

In Session: Week One of Therapy

I'm no stranger to therapy. This is my fourth time in therapy, but this is the first time I've been when I haven't been in absolute crisis. I'm doing it for my own mental health--preventive care if you will. I'm not even sure yet if I'll go every week (can you say "$$$$$"?), but I do think it's worth the cash. I see it as an investment in myself, something I'm resistant to do but something I'm trying to do more of now.

Living in an urban area, there are literally a bajillion (that's right, a bajillion) therapists around. So, I looked for pastoral counselors (they have clinical and spiritual training), and found a woman (really prefer a woman) who is a Methodist pastor (yay--Methodist like me) and whose office is right by my old workplace. Convenience was a big deciding factor for me. When I lived in CT, I had to take I-95 at rush hour to get to my therapist's office, which resulted in me feeling really on edge and unfocused when I got there. So this time, I was pleased to be able to jump on the Metro without having to worry about traffic except for the tourists who are once again invading. (Grrr--it's stand to the RIGHT people!)

I really over-thought the whole thing beforehand. I was worried that we wouldn't connect, that I wouldn't feel like I could be honest, that I would have my people-pleasing tendencies return and feel like I had to be completely, uber self-aware. Luckily, none of those things ended up being true. I really, really liked her. She was warm, interactive, and safe. And pregnant. VERY pregnant. That means she'll be out of counseling for at least 8 weeks starting in June. Something to worry about in another few weeks.

I was surprised that when she asked me why I had come in that I immediately started crying. For me, this was a good surprise. I never felt like I could cry with my old therapist. I'm not exactly sure why. We had more of an intellectual way of talking about my feelings. Today I felt much more connected to the physicality of my emotions. What I immediately felt was acceptance--she affirmed that this was a hard thing, that learning my relationship was not what I thought it was really sucks, that I had given so much to the relationship and was losing so much now. Thank God. Acceptance. Isn't that what we all want?

Nothing I said was any kind of revelation. I knew everything that I told her already. But I walked away feeling less burdened than when I walked in. That's really what I needed today. I look forward to working with her, to doing my own work outside of session (love that she gave me "homework" to do!), and to learning more about myself.

There's also a Macy's right next store. Thinking next time I'll add some retail therapy to the mix!

Did I even cry yesterday?

When I crawled into bed last night and sprawled out as much as I could, trying to enjoy having the whole thing to myself, I honestly couldn't remember--did I even cry today? I felt a little triumphant. Only a week since the break-up and already a day of no tears? Then I remembered. Yes, yes I did cry. It's embarrassing, too.

I'd decided earlier this week that no matter what, I was going to get up to go to church on Palm Sunday. SCL and I had visited a wonderful church (inclusive, LGBT-friendly, justice-focused) back in the fall, but because he wasn't really into going to church, I hadn't gone back. I just never wanted to go alone, and I felt bad dragging him along, knowing he really didn't want to go. But this week I figured out that being part of a faith community was one of the parts of me I had just given up without thinking about it much, and it was making me unhappy not to have that in my life. So, yesterday morning I was up and at 'em, preparing to make the somewhat complicated journey to the church.

I had just gotten out of the shower, and I was ironing my clothes. I'd turned on the TV and America's Next Top Model was on. It was the finale of an early season--maybe 3? I don't know; I'd seen it about a million times. But when Tyra announced America's next top model and both of the women burst into tears, so did I. I cried during America's Next Top Model. Is there anything more embarrassing than that when you're not a) PMSing or b) pregnant?

Maybe it wasn't just the emotionality of the show that made me cry. Maybe I was just looking for a reason to cry. That's more likely as I'd like to give myself more credit than thinking I could really be emotionally manipulated by Tyra Banks. I cried as I ironed, then got myself together and went to the Metro.

Going to church alone was hard as hell. I almost didn't go, but as is true with most things of late, I was so glad I did. The sermon was on regret, and the minister talked about her divorce. She shared how she had non-serious thoughts of keying her ex's truck, but how ultimately it was that inner voice that reminded her she would look back on this with regret if she did it. This really resonated with me, especially my desire not to act like a fool during this process. Truth be told I'm not angry with SCL. But I know I'd be angry with myself if I treated him badly, even though he broke my heart. Hurting him won't unbreak my heart, as Toni Braxton would say.

But better than the good sermon was the good community. The one person I knew there introduced me to the young people in the congregation. They invited me out to lunch, and immediately I felt at home. They could speak theological language! I had no idea how much I have been missing that. I think this'll be another place for me to find community as I move through the process and when I'm past it. I'm really glad that I worked up enough courage to go to church alone, not just because it's an awesome congregation but because I'm learning to take care of myself and do the things that are important to me.

Go me. And maybe today if I do cry, it'll be at something less cheesy than ANTM.

My first post break-up date

I went out last night on a date--a date that SCL and I were supposed to have gone on together. For Valentine's Day he had gotten us tickets to see Chelsea Handler, not exactly a creative gift as we'd just seen Kathy Griffin at the same venue a few weeks prior, but one I was excited about nonetheless. Perhaps I should have suspected something then--when his Valentine's Day card thanked me for being a "best friend." I remember being disappointed that it didn't say more, that it didn't talk about our love, our partnership. I'd come not to expect SCL to share his emotions or his feelings about our relationship except for a few times a year: my birthday, Valentine's Day, and our anniversary. He'd write me these beautiful cards that would bring tears to my eyes. Not this Valentine's Day though. I should've known then. But who wants to suspect your relationship is winding down on VALENTINE'S DAY?

Anyway, we broke up last Sunday just moments before needing to go to Philadelphia together (great timing, huh? Men are fabulous about that), and on Monday the subject of these tickets came up. "Do you want to find someone else to go with you?" he asked me. "No, I want to go with you," I said. "I don't think that's a great idea," he replied. "I don't care. You can sell the tickets," I said with tears in my eyes. I didn't give a flying fuck about the tickets at that point. He'd just broken my heart, and why would I ever want to go somewhere that was supposed to be "ours"? After a few hours of thinking this over though, I became more indignant than sad. I was going to use those tickets, damn it.

So, when I got a facebook message from a guy I had dinner with a few weeks ago who was writing to say "sorry for your break up," I thought, maybe he'd want to go. Now let me qualify this by saying that when I met this guy, it was at a pro-choice fundraiser and he told me that he wanted to work on women's issues. Of course I assumed he was gay. And I was absolutely shocked a few weeks later when he mentioned a girlfriend. I wanted to ask, "Was your girlfriend's name Robert by chance?" I still think he's confused. But I nonetheless thought it would be kind of a nice little jab to take a guy--gay, straight, bisexual, or confused--with me.

We met for dinner beforehand. I got us seats at the bar (not datelike). We had beers and food. Chelsea Handler was ridiculously funny, and only at a few times did I think to myself, this was supposed to be SCL and me. I didn't miss him too much--I actually think I had more fun with non-date, possibly gay guy that I would have with SCL. But it felt strange. Afterward we went by the White House, which was all lit up. Now THIS felt like a date, and I felt uncomfortable. I kept saying how I really want to be single for awhile, and he kept telling me to keep my mind open. We talked about getting another drink, but I said I'd like to make it an early night and headed home. I'm glad I did. I needed go home and cry a bit. I've lost so much, and I still can't believe this is my life.

Sometimes I feel like I don't know myself at all. I stare at myself in the mirror and I wonder, who is that woman. I'd like to get to know her before I get into another relationship. Otherwise I think I'll be looking to find her in another person. And she's never going to be there.

How long am I going to look at this in my fridge?

Whenever I open my fridge, I see this on the bottom shelf. A Coca-Cola, an oatmeal chocolate chip cookie, and a note written on the post-its I gave SCL for Christmas: "You can have this." He left it for me yesterday, and I haven't figured out what to do with it. I've managed to put the pictures away, the mementos in the closet, but this plate in the fridge I can't seem to part with. It seems simple enough really: drink the Coca-Cola, eat the cookie or throw it away, toss the note, wash the plate. Enough already! What's with the drama?

But unlike the pictures and other reminders, this I seem to forget about until I need to get a drink of water or some creamer for my coffee. Then BAM! This hits me in the gut.

Every week SCL went to a lunchtime meeting at school where there were always leftovers that he'd take home: usually two Cokes, two bags of chips, and two cookies for us to share. One of those little things that was part of the life we shared together, a part I hadn't thought about losing until I saw this plate. "You can have this." His thinking of me broke my heart because I realized that it was probably the last time he'd think or be able to grab me a cookie. He won't think about me in the same way anymore because...

We aren't the same anymore.

That is what hurts. Knowing things will never be the way they were, the way they were just less than a week ago. Knowing that he's not going to think to pick up that extra cookie for me. It all slipped away from me so fast, without warning. So much adjusting, so much discomfort thrown at me at once when I wasn't expecting it, I wasn't prepared, I was caught off guard. Frankly, I'm angry that I have to do all of this work, to adjust to a life that I don't want. At least I don't want it just yet. It's hard to imagine ever wanting this, ever being content to be without him and by myself.

I feel weak and alone and miserable and confused. And I just want a puppy, damn it!

Last night SCL stayed over Thursday. We talked. It took everything I had in me not to climb in bed with him and hold him close. He was upset, and I found myself comforting him because that is what I do. I comfort him. Why can't I comfort myself?