Sunday, June 13, 2010

I have... yeah. Things that I don't even know how to begin.

The thought of writing here is starting to cause anxiety, and since I will not allow myself to stop blogging because of a little anxiety... need to power through it. God knows I've gotten enough negative comments here in the last few days, though a lot of those were from the ex.

I don't quite feel safe anymore, to be honest.

I'd venture forth that he'd be happy to know that.

I'd venture forth that I never knew him at all.

Post-split behaviors translate into a man I never knew, spits on the image of the good times we had, and I can't help but wonder if... gods, if I was so wrong. Not wrong for making the choice I made, but wrong in my perception of him. If he's so hurt that he's lashing out against me in pain, or if, like so many say, no matter how much I defend him, that he's simply acting the upset child who lost his favorite toy.

I'd like to think that he loved me. That those moments we shared, just the two of us, were real. That our perfect Valentine's Day weekend together was genuine, and the love I saw in his eyes wasn't just something I deluded myself into believing.

It'd be easier to think that he felt nothing, nothing other than passing amusement, that I was a good fit into his life, thumped into the shape of a doormat over time.

That way I wouldn't worry over his hurt.

I don't think he'll ever believe that I would have left him that Saturday night whether or not I had known PD.

Because there's loyalty to your mate, and then there's loyalty to yourself.

You have to know your boundaries, and you have to know when you will break.

I saw myself breaking.

I was going to break down the course of the events in epic narrative, from when he "proposed" on Thursday night/Friday morning to how I found myself sitting a couch on the first floor of PD's warehouse, alternately talking and crying.

And maybe I will, one day down the line.

Between the dinner with my parents and the conversation in the diner in the Valley, from the moment that blonde Vienna sausage opened her mouth at the BDSM party he took me to our first weekend back together... it was simply a chain of events leading to the moment where he let me know that my opinion, my needs, my happiness, would never matter as much to him as his own and if I wasn't okay with that, he would withdraw his offer of marriage.

Some people just don't fit.

I finally accepted that, after months of him trying to beat that idea into me, my own sense of self-preservation managed to kick in.

Of course, now it seems to be far too late to save any tatters of friendship.

Many will probably think I left him for PD. Leaping, like so many girls do, from one man to the next. Security, validation, comfort sex, distraction from internal stressors, clinging to endorphins inspired by limerance.

I'm not going to argue that. It's pointless. Many would be surprised that I, I didn't touch him the night I left the ex. Nor the night after that. Or the next.

It was near pure companionship while I gathered my head back together.

Heh, finally free of that chain latching me down to sex as a magic psychological healer. Took ten years, but it happened.

I don't know exactly what PD and I are doing. I'm... really being the pathetic abused puppy. It's kinda sad. I'm hypersensitive to his moods, his expressions, looking for that displeasure, that look of calculated evaluation. Constantly worried that I'm taking too much of his time, too much of his attention. Trying not to get in the way.

But, when I get up for work in the morning, he makes me breakfast, walks me to my car, and then goes back to bed.

And when I asked him to go clubbing with me on Saturday, so he could see me dance, he said yes. He didn't tell me no, that it would be a bad idea, because he might run into someone he knew and want to bang them, which I would simply have to deal with, which is why the ex only went clubbing with me once.

When we brought up how rapidly we were falling for each other, and I expressed concern over his not-quite-monogamy, PD didn't tell me that he would never change, that his needs were his needs, he just smiled and said that we'd make it work. That we'd find a way to make both of us happy.

I sleep in his bed on the second floor. Cats jump up onto the blankets, curl at our feet, our sides, occasionally our faces. Daylight starts filtering through the warehouse windows, illuminating his book cases, his dungeon, his face next to mine. He wakes up and smiles at me, I smile back. Happy. Feeling safe to be myself.

Thursday night, we went to an art gallery/fashion show in Downtown, on the lush patio of the twenty-first floor of one of the buildings. I wore a short skirt, stockings, a loose black tunic, and my usual boots. He was in a dark button-up and jeans, the thick piercings through his ears black and tribal, eyes always looking wicked at me. He included me in conversations, whispered jokes into my ear, introduced me to friends, always made my company feel desired, like I was more than an arm-piece.

Friday night, we met with two more of his friends to discuss a screenplay one of them had written. We talked for hours, I started nodding off, my right leg across his left as he stroked my thigh, talking business, talking ideas, making jokes and ranting, as he does. His friends were wonderful, all of his friends have been wonderful. Open, accepting, easy.

Saturday day we went to Olvera St in downtown, took the Metro in. Wandered the buildings and the booths, people-watching and talking about everything, like we do. Conversation is non-stop. Ideas, thoughts, plans, feelings. Looking into old buildings, walking around in the two museums they have there, reading and discussing, identifying antiques. He bought me a Day of the Dead ornament I loved in a tiny store full of art. Went back to his place and dozed on the couch downstairs, watching movies while he loaded his truck with equipment for the next day. Hit the club where we ran into a tiny porn star, a friend of his, who was quite entertaining and friendly, just like all of his friends have been.

I slept in today, he went to work. Left me a note on my purse, made me smile.

It's good. I'm happy. Anxiety and worry aside, I'm actually happy.

I feel like I should be miserable, but I'm not. I think a large part of it is that I've been put through the emotional wringer by the ex so many times that I've gotten a bit numb to it. There's grief and there's sadness, but not that heart-stab I've had so often with him in the past.

Finally strong enough to move on. Strong enough to stand up for myself.


  1. If I knew the entire "Happy Happy Joy Joy" song I'd sing it right here for you right now... but then I can't sing either...
    I'm happy you found someone that makes you happy (other than me in my fantasy world).

  2. No one can possibly understand what you've been going through unless they've been in your shoes. People are quick to judge when they think they're superior to others. Leaving anonymous flaming comments on someone's blog is tasteless and shows what kind of coward they are. You did what you felt was right by your and your standards, what was best for you.. and no one else. That is the way it should be. We have to look out for ourselves, we can't rely on others to make decisions for us. If you agreed to everything and changed your mind later, SO WHAT? It's never too late to change your mind. Don't let a man dictate your behaviors and don't listen to people's advice on your life. Only you know what's best. Based on the fact that you're able to feel some peace now, it's obvious the right choice was made. If he continues to lash out and blame you, that's just his way of trying to get the control back through guilt. Anonymous people in the blogging community don't know you or how your life should be. Don't let their stupid comments get to you.

  3. PD is what you need right now. That should be all anyone needs to know about it.

  4. I've done some lashing out, and it was due to strong feelings of hurt and grieving, with some insecurity thrown in.

    I'm glad you're happy. :)

  5. I was just wondering in your story about when you said you went "clubing" were you refering to the club that has a bar and a dance floor and is cohabbited by the main stream public, or were you refering to the kind of club where there are sexual acts and people watch or sometimes join in. I actually saw pictures of a club on the internet and it was nothing like a regular club. I guess there were times when I didnt realise what kind of club you were going to.

    What I really wonder is, if you were looking for a man to be manogomous with, why are you looking for him in a place where people are not manogomous and why would you be hanging out there if you were manogomous yourself.

    Was it the challenge of finding a man that is the opposite of what you want and somehow turning him into what you want him to be? If a game has rules the rules should be the same for both parties.

    I get the feeling that this new guy is grooming you to be the "star" in a future movie. Maybe manogomy has become a word of the past and doesnt really fit the story line in this blog at all. Children probably wouldnt be a good thing either because they would put a damper on your freedom and you wouldnt want to bring them up around all that explicit life style.
    At this point marriage can only be one thing, a finnancial arrangment that bennifits you. I just hope that if you ever marry this type of man, you will get your monies worth, because that is all you will get in the end. You really will be throwing caution to the wind at that point.
    I do care about you, and I want you to be happy, I just hate to see you sell yourself short for something that could destroy you in the end. Be careful, think things over and make sure you really know what you are getting into.
    There is an old expression,"Out of the frying pan and into the fire."
    I was really looking forward to that story, it would have been good to see what your point of view is. Your ex seems candid, I can see why you liked him. Thanks for the post, Take care and I wish you the best as always, Sweet

  6. "Don't listen to people's advice on your life."

    That sounds suspiciously like...advice?

    You don't have to justify your actions. Your life, and you live it how you want to live it. But I'm more inclined to agree with sweetmagnoliya. Sex clubs and porn industry are bad news. Then again, I don't live in glam LA and have more rural sensibilities.

  7. Savage,

    Aw, thanks! I'm glad to be happy, hoping that happiness continues by me not getting that song stuck in my head. :P


    Actually, at least one of those anonymous comments was the ex, if not more. IP trace and all that. Just made me sad. Anonymous flamers make me, occasionally, twitchy, but I usually get over it pretty quick. My life is... a bit odd. It's generally hard for people to get a real handle on things. Not that I can boast much of one.


    Yes, it should be. It's good enough for me.


    Yeah, me too. But I try not to do it anymore. I've been pretty good about it, the last several years. Probably much too tolerant of bad behavior, I'll admit.


    I go to both the regular types of clubs you describe and the BDSM/sex clubs. I go to neither to meet men, and I hang out at those places because I enjoy the people-watching and the atmosphere. Monogamy and social habits... not really that solidly linked.

    I would never hunt a man down who was not what I wanted so I could change him into what I wanted. That's absolutely awful.

    As for PD grooming me for anything, no, he's very much not, just as my ex was very much not.


    I'm trying to live by my own advice, instead of others. We'll see how it goes. As for sex clubs and the porn industry, much like anything, self-respect and awareness are essential. There are good people and bad people, some to avoid, some to treasure. It's... interesting. much like other outsider social groups.