I just called to say …
PAST: I honestly can’t remember the last time I said “I love you.”
PRESENT: I can’t honestly remember the last time I didn’t.
PAST: I honestly can’t remember the last time I said “I love you.”
PRESENT: I can’t honestly remember the last time I didn’t.
It is strange to see them again, the Others - his Others. Some are lovely, some are not. It is different - uncomfortable - awkward.
Digital messages sent from nowhere near helpfully hide the truth. In person, face to face, I can see their pain and sadness. And, I suppose, they can see mine.
The end of one, instantly becomes the end of many. It’s not as if you get to say goodbye. You walk away never really knowing how they see you anymore; what he told them of the end.
It’s fine, most of the time, but there are moments when it hits - hard. Once upon a time, I had a great big family. Now it’s half as big.
Goodbye. I loved you. Actually, I still do.
“From what I’ve been told, we have lot of similarities, and I am struggling right now sticking with a marriage when I feel like ultimately I am supposed to be with someone else.”
- His “friend” to me.
Hate to break it to you, but we’re not the same at all. I didn’t leave my marriage to be with someone else, I left my marriage because it had long been over. That I stumbled into a new relationship during my transition has nothing to do with my choice to leave - I had already left.
You, on the other hand, are pining for the same idiot you blew off before college because he didn’t put out. Really? All these years you managed to keep these so-called crazy feelings for your barely high school boyfriend in check, but the minute you learn of our demise, your heart is an open wound?
Since you asked for advice, here it is: You are still very married. With children. Deal with that first before you pick at other people’s leftovers.
You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.
Just because you didn’t put your penis in her vagina doesn’t mean that you aren’t a low down dirty cheater. Secret calls, secret texts, and secret visits. Secrets don’t make friends and they sure as shit don’t keep spouses.
Quickly - on instinct. Thoughtfully - soul searching and information gathering. Casually - consequences are of no real import. Badly - second guessing involved.
In broad strokes, those are my decision-making categories. Once I make a final decision Quickly or Thoughtfully, it is locked and unchangeable. My instinct has yet to lead me astray. And when I dig into something, I play out all the possibilities before selecting my best choice.
Concluding that we were done was a long and deliberate process; it took me years to reach a personal comfort with that possibility. Asking you if you were happy on that Sunday afternoon - knowing full well that it was the beginning of the end - was a straight up gut call.
I don’t regret either decision.
I want you. I hate YOU. I love you. Fuck off, YOU. As much as I love roller coasters, I think I’d like to ride the merry-go-round for a while.
Somewhere, in a time far away, a girl impatiently waited for the day that two became one and happily ever after could begin.
Somewhere, in a land all too present, a woman patiently waits for the day that one becomes two knowing that happily ever after is where fairy tales end and real life begins.
“Infer what you will, yes [your ex] is involved, and messaging you was not sanctioned by him, so your discretion is appreciated.”
-His Friend (also former girlfriend)
Did I meet with her? Damn straight, I did.