I wish she was

Bobby and I are back together.

Not just back together. We are talking about forever. It seems that after weeks of not having us in his life, Bobby has realized he doesn’t want to lose us.

This last weekend I had the kids and we spent most of our time at Bobby’s house. The kids played with the other kids in the neighborhood. My mother came here for Easter dinner. Several of his friends came over for an Easter Egg Hunt.

On Saturday after my daughter’s softball game, several of my friends came back to Bobby’s house with me.

Later several of Bobby’s friends stopped by. They brought with them a guy Bobby hadn’t seen in awhile. We all sat on the back deck talking and laughing. At one point my baby climbed up in Bobby’s lap and put her arms around his neck. Old friend says, “Is she yours?”

His response, without hesitation. “I wish.”

And I know we’re right where we belong.

I am an idiot

It is official.

I love him

I love him. Six weeks after he broke my heart, I still love him.

I cook dinner in his kitchen. He gets my girls off the bus. We text. We talk on the phone. He confides in me his financial worries. I talk to him about my ex. But we never touch. It is comfortable. It is easy. Most days.

I sat on his couch, the software he had purchased for my computer sat between us. I knew I shouldn’t be there, just being close to him was hard. “Thank you,” I said,” for the software.”

“Thank you,” he replied, “for not hating me.”

I wish I did. That would make this easier. If he didn’t call. If he didn’t text. If my kids didn’t love him, if he didn’t love my kids. If I didn’t see his dog as one of my babies. If I could imagine my life without him, this would be easier.

I’m moving on. I’m going out. I’m meeting new people. I’ve given out my number. I’ve made plans with other men. This morning I got a “Good Mornin” text that made me smile.

But as the day wore on I didn’t hear from him. Bobby. The one name that makes my heart skip a beat. 

Since they say confession is good for the soul I sent an email to BFF.

I love him, I don’t know how not to.  I’m doing all the “move on” things. But I still go see him, I still take his phone calls. And I know it’s easy for you to say stop. And I probably even know I should.

Her response brought tears to my eyes.

And you’ll probably love him forever.  Doesn’t make him any better for you or your kids.  Eventually, you’ll find someone to move on with.  Just give it time. My heart still hurts for some of the loves I’ve lost.  It doesn’t make me love [her fantastic husband] any less, they’ll just always be a part of me.

With that I had permission to love him, while still accepting that I cannot be with him. I love him, I may love him for a long time still. But I’ll keep going. I’ll keep smiling. I’ll keep flirting. And one day I’ll fall in love with someone else.

One day I’ll look back on my time with him and smile. Knowing for certain “tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.”

Pickup Lines

Around the corner from work is a convenience store with my favorite soda in the soda fountain. At least once a day I drop in to fill up my cup. One of the clerks is about my age and he never charges me for my drink. Each time I see him we flirt and each time I walk out the door smiling. On Friday, as I stood at the counter for our normal friendly exchange he says “What are you doing later? Besides looking good.” I laughed.

A pickup line. He used a pick up line. On me. The thing is, it isn’t just him. Guys talk to me. Check me out.

On Saturday I was talking to my father, recounting the conversation. I turned to him, “Dad, can you believe guys would use a pick up line on me, ME?” His response, “yes.”

Now perhaps you think I’m being vain or attempting to boast. I’m not I swear. What I’m saying is… there are other fish in the sea. In other words, I don’t have to settle. Out there somewhere is the one for me.

So seriously I won’t be giving the clerk my number anytime soon because, well, he is a convenience store clerk. But I will smile when he uses a line. And I will keep waiting for my prince charming to find me.

Falling apart

He called. And sent text messages. Finally 9 days after the break up it was time to talk.

 

“My life has been falling apart since that night.”

 

Somehow that admission made it feel a little better. He went on to tell me about the things that had gone wrong since that night. The list just seemed to grow. Most of the items had absolutely nothing to do with me. But they were things that seem bigger when you face them alone.

 

Like so many times over the last year I listened as he talked. And encouraged. Him. Gone were the “we’ll make it through” assurances, they were replaced by “you will figure it out.”

 

He apologised again for the way things happened. Truths thrown at me in an alcohol induced conscious clearing session. “You broke my heart, you hurt me, badly. But I forgive you.” His response, “you are too good for me.”

 

“Forgiveness isn’t about you. It’s about me.” I have no intention of harboring bitterness or resentment, that’s not who I am, as a person. I’ve already been a person I didn’t recognise, twisted by lies and deceit of the man who had sworn to love me. I refuse to be that person again. This man, with his truths, no matter how painful, does not have the power to change me, my character.

When I left I stood in his doorway, turned and looked at him. “Friends?” He asked. I nodded my consent. But can we really be friends? After everything we’ve been through?

All my friends tell me no. Experience screams it isn’t possible. I should just walk away without looking back. I shouldn’t answer his text message. I should pick up the phone when it rings.

But I do. Because despite everything, I refuse to be one more person in his life who walked away. I’m just not sure if that makes me noble or foolish.

A Better Man

I’m sure you know the scene, when Jack Nicholson says to Helen Hunt, “You make me want to be a better man.” That scene used to play out a lot in my head. Bobby never said those words instead he was making changes.

These were not changes I asked for or insisted on. I accepted him as he was, loved him for the person he was. But there were activities in his life I couldn’t, wouldn’t participate in. Not illegal activities, but things that went against my own moral code. And they prevented us from having a forever. Vague, I know, sorry. How about an example?

Porn. Perfectly legal activity. I deplore it. It cheapens something that should be beautiful when shared between two people in love. I find it disgusting that a man would get turned on by another woman and then turn to me to satisfy his primal urges. Several times early on Bobby asked me to watch it with him, I refused, flat, no room for discussion. I knew it was something he still looked at but never when I was around.

Then several weeks ago he told me he had gotten rid of his stash. The shelf of his closet was cleaned off, completely. Just gone.

There were several things like that. I never asked. I never nagged. I never gave ultimatums. He just made the little changes.

He is a bad boy. And every woman thinks she is going to change her bad boy. Every woman thinks that she is going to be the reason he goes straight. I think he tried. I think he looked at me, and my girls and saw a future. He saw a woman who would be there through the good times and bad. He saw a woman who would take care of him and he wanted to take care of me. He loved my girls, took them to get ice cream, bought them special treats, got them off the school bus. He could see the family he wanted so desperately.

All this year I have seen his promise. I have watched him stumble, fall off the cliff and then pull himself back up. I have watched him struggle and then suceed. I have listened to him talk about his hopes and dreams and marveled at how well they matched mine. And my heart soared when it seemed our lives were finally on the same path.

Then he got drunk and he said some things he’ll never be able to take back. All the little questions I had in the back of my mind answered, in the harshest of fashions. The things he said didn’t just break my heart, they shattered it. Finally, when I could actually find words, what I said was, “You stupid, self destructive man.” And the reality that this leopard could not change his spots finally was beginning to sink in.

His response, “I told you I was a bad guy.” My mind replays those words he threw at me as if they were an excuse, moments before I drove away. When he could no longer look me in the eye. He’s right. I knew he was a bad boy. I knew it but I fell for him anyway.

So lately I’ve been asking myself if I should have done things differently. If I should have held back. Am I to blame for my own broken heart? Maybe, partly. I knew better than to trust a bad boy with my heart.

But to be honest with you. If I had it to do it all over again, I’d still try. There are things along the way I might do differently. But I would still trust until it was broken. I’d still believe him to be good until he proved otherwise. That’s what makes me, me.

I make no apologies for seeing the best in him and believing he can be a better man. I also make no apologies for being the forever kind of girl. But what I know now is that we do not have a forever. And that’s okay. Because right now, when I imagine my life in a year, he isn’t in it. If only I could get him out of next week.

Regrets

Bobby hurt me. It’s not the same as before but my heart is broken, a little.

We talked today. He is genuinely sorry he hurt me. That doesn’t make it any easier.

What does make it easier? Knowing that this is a natural part of life. People meet, they start dating, sometimes things work out, sometimes they don’t. The fact that they didn’t work out this time doesn’t mean that either of us is undesirable or unworthy of love. (Although right now, because it still hurts I would just like to say I think it means he cannot recognise a good thing when it’s staring him in the face.) It doesn’t mean that either of us are bad people. (Although, really to break my heart, my sweet innocent little heart, what kind of monster do you have to be? Wait, sorry, back to the positive.) It just means that there is no future for us.

One of the things that scared me the most about getting involved with Bobby was the fear of getting hurt again. But I decided that I had to try. I had to look at the situation and decide which decision I would regret, giving us a chance and opening myself up to being hurt or walking away and always wondering what might have been. In the end I decided walking away would be the regret. The natural choice was opening my heart. So I cannot bring myself to regret that decision.

There are some who have suggested I not write about this here, where my ex can read it. But I don’t think what happened is anything to hide.Yes, I got dumped. Yes, I got hurt. But you know what else? I had fun. We made some memories that I will always treasure.

This life, this crazy life with it’s ups and down. Despite the fact that right now is a down, despite the fact that right now my heart is crying, despite all that, I love my life today and wouldn’t trade a moment of it. How can you regret that?

We need to talk

He loves spending time with me. He loves everything about me. I’m perfect for him. He loves the girls and would do anything to keep them happy. But he doesn’t love me. Not the way a man should. Not the way I deserve.

There are reasons we didn’t, couldn’t have a future. But I am the glass half full kind of girl. I am the love conquers all girl. In the end I believed we could have made it work. But love cannot conquer anything if it isn’t there.

So I suppose I should appreciate his honesty. And maybe tomorrow I will.

But right now. It hurts. Right now. My heart is broken.

I didn’t mean it

Snow has fallen again. Blanketing our east coast city. Only a month after our last big snow.

But so much has changed in this last month. We have become a couple.

On Saturday I was cooking in the kitchen and he was on the couch playing video games. The mood was light and he made a joke. He had no way of knowing the words he said in jest had once been used as cruelty by my ex. And knowing that he didn’t mean them, knowing that he couldn’t know what he was saying, knowing all that I still could not stop the tears that flowed.

He came to me, immediately apologising. I tried assuring him it was okay but still I couldn’t make the tears stop. I ran from the room.  Assuring myself I just needed to be alone I locked myself in the bathroom. And he gave me a moment.

And then he tried to open the door. Not to be thwarted by a flimsy lock, it took just a moment for him to push open the door. He sat beside me on the tub. And calmly he began to tell me all the things he appreciated about me. Until finally all I could do was put my arms around his neck and lose myself in his kiss.

He followed me, he wasn’t content to let me walk away. And I no longer want to.

Walls…

He grew up with an alcoholic father who delighted in tormenting him. He was once forced to sit all day staring at the switch with which his father intended to beat him with when he arrived home from work. His mother couldn’t save herself, much less her son. He grew up believing himself worthless. He began building his walls as a child.

He stood before the judge with a woman who promised him the one thing he wanted more than anything in this world. A child of his own and the love of family. His marriage turned more quickly than mine, until all that was left was the evidence that she had used him as the means to an end. The family he so desperately wanted had slipped away from him, until he was left broke and broken, with walls reinforced and shorn up.

We met by chance, I only glanced back from my barstool but it was enough to catch his eye. For a night, we used each other to chase away the loneliness. In the light of day, we started talking.  That talk led to others, until I began to see the heart of this man. A heart that had survived pain and torment, I will never fully understand. A heart I catch a glimpse of during our late night talks, when we lie satiated in each other’s arms. When carefully worded questions sidestep the guard he keeps held high, until he is answering questions no one but me ever cares enough to ask.

For the last year, timing and circumstance have kept us apart but not able to walk away. Until fate, snow and Christmas stepped in to give us the time we needed. For a week we loved and laughed as if we had been together for years, neither of us talking about what happened when the bubble burst.

The bell toll of the New Year came and went and the silence nearly broke my heart. He pushed, each time expecting the next time he called I wouldn’t answer. Each time, after the anger faded I could see clearly, the fear and the walls that he used to guard his heart. Until slowly, he began to let me in.

Then last week, he finally said the words out loud. His fear finally put into words.

“If we stay together, are you going to change?”

His heart, that’s guarded by those walls. Behind the brick and morter, behind the thorns and brush. It’s beautiful. And one day I hope to call it mine.