eros, logos: Damage, 2

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Damage, 2

Coincidentally, or maybe not, I heard from X the other day. The strange coincidence is that he mentioned the topic in damage 1—the way he told me about his wife’s biopsy.

I suspect that he’s reading here. It doesn’t matter. He never did respect my wishes about that. If I am honest I have to admit I hope he's read me writing about someone else. I still have the desire to hurt him, you see.

What’s strange about this coincidence is that we never discussed that when we broke up, and I doubt he knew or understood how deeply it affected me and why. I am not sure I understand it all either, and I should try to sort that out.

I accused X here of lacking selfknowledge or insight, but I would be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge my own. One day I will have to understand why I was so willing to spend so much time in a situation where the message I was always getting was that I didn’t matter, I wrote him after we ended. I can’t say I understand all of that now, but I have some ideas.

After he'd told me he imagined something happening to her, and then told me about his wife’s biopsy, he told me that he’d be very busy at work for a few days, that he wouldn’t have much time free, ….and I already expected this. Quite frankly, I was relieved. I expected it because everytime he made some sort of confession, every time we seemed to be close, he would pull away afterwards. I was relieved because I needed to sort out what I felt and what I wanted to do.

And yet, and yet, I still loved him, or believed I did. I understood him better than he understood himself. Better than I understood myself, and my reasons for staying.

So I decided to end us, but really, the decision was already made. It was encoded in everything we did, everything we said. What’s bred in the bone will out in the flesh, and affairs always have ending encoded in their bones.

In our case he couldn’t seem to stop hurting me, or hurting himself. I understand now, he wrote me recently, every fight we had was about my refusal to see you as a person. You told me flat out this was happening, but I refused to see it.

I don’t believe I invented him, but he invented me. It’s so easy to invent the lover in an affair, to invest them with everything you want to see, to overlook the parts of their puzzle that don't neatly fill the hole in your life. What I hadn’t realized at first was this meant he couldn’t really see me. I don’t wonder you resent me now, I said to him. How dare the statue speak?
You were always too stupid to know I'd written that about you.

But before that happened, I want to tell the story….

I’d decided to leave, but I was still so in love, so blinded, that I wanted to hurt him as little as possible. I wanted to still be his friend—I thought we would salvage that. And so I waited…I waited til things would be better at work for him, til he’d hear about her biopsy, til the time of uncertainty would be over.

This was very hard for me. I’d grown accustomed to hiding my true feelings, hiding my realities from him. But it was a very hard time for me. I was sick and I hadn’t gone to the doctor. I had a sinus infection and a fever, and I felt very ill and very sorry for myself. And in the midst of this I got an email from him, an extremely rude and cruel email berating me for ‘bothering’ him, (I had asked him how he was).

As I was still reading that email I got another, this one a frantic apology, filled with excuses, justification, self-pity. I couldn’t take it in, you know. I was blindsided by this casual and small cruelty he’d visited on me.

A few hours earlier I’d gotten an email from this dear man. I didn’t know him at all at that point, he was just a reader and fellow blogger, but he’d signed me up for a word-a-day subscription.

And you know—that’s how I knew X and I were over. Finally.
Because a total stranger was more kind to me than he had been, more thoughtful than he had been—and yet I couldn’t stop that lift of my heart, that brief hope that it was from him, that he’d thought to do something for me to show me he’d been thinking of me….and I realised he'd never given me a fucking thing. A card once, I think.

And that’s how I realized we were over, and it was pointless to hope to be friends, because he was not my friend.

I still waited two weeks to tell him though.

I am not sure if that was self-denial on my part or my desire to make an exit when I could be sure he'd notice.

Labels: honesty, self-denial, self-loathing, sss, X

posted by O @ 10:22


12 Comments:
At 10 February, 2009, A Sinful Affair said… Letting go is the absolute hardest. Sexy lady I wish you well with this. Warm hugs for you too! At 10 February, 2009, Anonymous said… I found myself nodding my head in agreement at so many points in this post. I love your self-awareness. At 10 February, 2009, Anonymous said… The pleasure was, and still is, all mine. At 10 February, 2009, DnWormer said… It's amazing how even when we realize we should let go, it still takes some sort of prodding to actually do it. At least you walked away with increased knowledge of self. At 10 February, 2009, alphagirl said… "One day I will have to understand why I was so willing to spend so much time in a situation where the message I was always getting was that I didn’t matter," May that day come sooner than later for me too...sigh At 11 February, 2009, L. said… I remember the book. It was one of the few books I read after I saw the movie on which it was based. Are all affairs inevitably doomed? I suspect the majority are. If you build a relationship on a foundation of sand and saltwater cement, it's not likely to last. X also sounds like a complete ass. That's gotta hasten the crumbling down. Ideally with big fat emotional cement blocks on top of him. I also agree the most dangerous people are the ones who lack introspection. In that respect, you're way harmless, honey. At 11 February, 2009, Kimberly said… Inventing the lover...utterly brilliant and so well said. At 12 February, 2009, Anonymous said… He never did respect my wishes about that. Remove the last two words of that sentence, and it's him in a nutshell. You deserve better and will have better - and if that fact hurts him, that isn't your fault or your damage. It's his. I was married to one of these. I raise a shot of most excellent anejo tequila to you. At 13 February, 2009, O said… ASN, Thank you. You're right, it's hard. Z, Welcome! Thank you for reading and commenting. I don't know if I'm selfaware really but I'd like to be. sss, What can I say to you that i haven't said already? xx mnwhr, yeah, you can know it's time to go but it still takes time to leave. i don't know how much I've learned. Maybe something. Some unpleasant things about myself, as well. alphagirl, I wrote this for you specifically, thank you for giving me the courage and impetus to finally say it. I will email. L., Are all affairs inevitably doomed? I suspect the majority are. Even if they aren't, they still carry an ending encoded into them, if not the affair then the marriage. That was what i was thinking. I had you in mind too and some recent posts of yours. I will miss your blog so much. Kimberly-- It's all too easy to invent, I think. Thank you. Lookout Mama, thank you for commenting and welcome. I raise another shot to you and look for the salt and the lime. At 14 February, 2009, Anonymous said… I brought sangrita. Mmm! (Marvelous sex isn't all I've learned from him laugh) At 18 February, 2009, goodgirl said… I am in this right now... and I also cannot understand why I stick around only to be told in a thousand different ways that I don't matter. My only explanational is that I'm an emotional masochist... but why? At 08 March, 2009, Anonymous said… I need to continue reading backward about your relationship with X. However, without having done so, I understand that need to want to hurt him...
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