I had an epiphany this morning as I was walking my dog. MM is not part of my life anymore. I know that sounds simple, but it’s not something that I’ve been able to process. We don’t speak, email, text; we are not connected on any social or business networking sites; we don’t travel together, work together. I no longer check my emails for something from him. Things in my life, professionally have been extraordinary and he’s not part of that. I have shared my good news and accomplishments with other people. Not him. He needs to think about what he wants, doesn’t want, needs, doesn’t need without me, without my influence and what he has succeeded in doing is alienating me. He has pushed me away so ferociously, that I’ve retreated. And now, he’s really not part of my life. As I think about what I want to do, he is not a part of that equation. While I think about what’s best for me and my kids, he’s not part of that decision. I can’t say that I don’t feel empty or lonely. I do. But I think that feeling would exist simply because right now that’s where I’m at. I’m not dating anyone – or at least anyone that I like very much. In a way it is like high school all over again. Except that I’m too old for that.
Yesterday was my anniversary. If I were still married, it would have been 19 years of marriage. I believe that my divorce decree, after a long, acrimonious 2 year divorce process, was entered 6 days earlier. I mourn the loss of MM more than the loss of my marriage. My marriage had died years before the divorce ever began. All that was left was to bury it. My relationship with MM was . . . on it’s way? declining? reaching the end? strengthening? moving in a new direction? I don’t know. That part makes me sad. But interestingly, the longing isn’t there like it was. The ache and pain isn’t there, like it once was. I can’t remember how many days it’s been since I was with my MM without looking at a calendar. (The date – of course – December 4, 2009, but not how many days it’s been. I just counted them - 76 days since we last saw each other. It made my heart sink.) It feels sad and it feels good. It is like another little death. I remember in December wishing time to hurry up and make me forget. I prayed that the pain would go away. And it really has started to go. In big chunks.
Ironically, I realized how late it is and remembered, that one time when MM was sleeping over, he logged on to his Facebook account and I watched him type his password. I never really thought about it. Until tonight. Since it’s so late and I know he goes to sleep early, I tried to log on to his account and succeeded. I thought that my heart would beat right out of my chest to see his account, his messages, his photos. What I saw made me sick – and after I thought I was fine. He asked me to go on a business trip with him last week, after his wife supposedly threw him out of the house. What I saw in his “in box” was that not only did she not throw him out, but she went with him, they had dinner with work people that he and I know, that I work with, that I see, that I have a relationship with and he had the fucking balls to call me the next day, when he got into the office, to tell me that he thought of me when he was traveling and missed me. Fuck your wife? Or was she the babysitter? My face is burning. I’m humiliated — that I’m a so fucking stupid to believe any words that come out of his mouth; to think that he cares about me, misses me, thinks about me, respects me. None of those things are true. Not a single one. He posts Springsteen as his status – because I’m a fan and his wife hates him. Some kind of message to me. Hey, asshole, she changed your profile so you’re invisible to me! If I didn’t log on to my daughter’s account, I wouldn’t even see. Nice profile picture of him, his wife, his kids. Fuck him. I’m a fool. A stupid, fucking fool. That I could have had one thought that this man was telling me truth about anything. Ever. That I could still love him, be in love with him, want to be with him, fantasize what a life with him might be like. People have asked me why I haven’t come out said that I love my MM – and this is why. To continue to believe it or think it causes nothing anymore but pain. What is the point of unreciprocated, unrequited love. I’m not 15 years old anymore. It’s not cute, it’s not endearing. It is pitiful. And I refuse to be pitiful. And there’s no way, on god’s green earth, that I’m anyone’s second choice. He can do whatever he wants, with whoever he wants. But it’s not going to be me.
He’s Out Of My Life
He’s Out Of My Life
And I Don’t Know Whether To Laugh Or Cry
I Don’t Know Whether To Live Or Die
And It Cuts Like A Knife
He’s Out Of My Life
It’s Out Of My Hands
It’s Out Of My Hands
To Think For Two Years he Was Here
And I Took him For Granted I Was So Cavalier
Now The Way That It Stands
He’s Out Of My Hands
So I’ve Learned That Love’s Not Possession
And I’ve Learned That Love Won’t Wait
Now I’ve Learned That Love Needs Expression
But I Learned Too Late
He’s Out Of My Life
He’s Out Of My Life
Damned Indecision And Cursed Pride
Kept My Love For Him Locked Deep Inside
And It Cuts Like A Knife
He’s Out Of My Life
Michael Jackson (R.I.P.)
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