Well, he broke up with me. Again. How many times does this make it? Four, five? It's so many times I've lost count.
He set me free to roam the seas in search of others. First time he'd said that. I understood his reasons even though the pain was pulling on my heart like a weighted hook. So I didn't argue. Instead I tried to be noble and thank him for all he'd given me.
But I sure as Hell didn't feel noble. I was jealous, hurt, and pissed. I wanted to snake up to every woman he'd ever talked to, dreamed about, dated, or even thought about dating and sink my poisonous teeth deep into her flesh. I wanted to leave sad flowers at his door, in the bed of his truck, with a path of tearlike petals to trace his every step. I imagined making multiple cd's of songs that represented the beauty of what we'd had, wrapping them in black paper, and mailing them to his every haunt.
But I didn't do any of these things. I knew he had moved on and it was futile. So instead I dove deep into the undersea caverns of computer lurking. Night after night I peered at his websites, checking his moves and those of anyone he contacted. Even though part of me understood the craziness of it all, the other part felt like I needed to keep a hold of this last little bit I had left of him.
I was trapped in a net of obsession. Flailing from Facebook to Google. And then I did a terrible thing. I emailed a woman I was sure he was dating. One I imagined he'd compared me to. I tried asking her if they were together in what I thought was a polite way.
But to her I was not a gentle humpback singing exploratory songs but a stalking shark protecting its boyfriend meal. Not only did she not email me back, she blocked contact for both him and me.
And with that action went any chance of a noble parting. Justifiably angry, he was forced to block me too. And stop all contact. He knew it was the only way to cut me free from this net.
Yet another of his actions that I have to be thankful for.
Because even though I still feel some of the fibers dangling from my fins I'm no longer thrashing in obsession.
I am finally swimming free.
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Hi. It is never easy, but trust me having been in your position and being cast adrift for a number of years, I did find happiness again.
ReplyDeleteOk I am male so you would think it is different, but it isn't.All the same insecurities are there.
I laid my ghost to rest by writing a book and included many of my escapades on the singles scene and my own torture in the aftermath of divorce. I know you have read two chapters on Authonomy and the book turned into a thriller, but I am sure if you read a little more you will see what I mean.
Derek
thedarkside@edating