Life after death - day 2

730am

A new day. I'm not ready, can't stand the thought of another already. Or the eleven thousand or so more days to come. Each one as empty as the one before it and the one to follow.

At least when i'm sleeping i'm not thinking about her. dreaming, yes, but at least there's some respite in being assleep.

I can't, don't want, to get out of bed. I know that right now she's probably stirring, just starting to wake. Is she still feeling the glow from the swing club last night? Can she still feel the touch of her new lovers? How many, I wonder? Two, three? Ten? I doubt ten - I don't think bf could take that so quickly. Perhaps a woman as well. I imagine her leaving the club feeling well fucked, energized, awash with erotic energy. She probably fucked him again, enthusiastically, when they got home. As she's waking, even now, she'll wake horny and ready, eager to fuck again.

Another day in my own personal hell.

It's so strange that this wouldn't bother me at all if it'd been her and I going. I'd have gladly taken her, watched her, encouraged her, arranged gangbangs for her. But now, when i'm nothing to her I cannot stand it. While I could have easily watched her suck several guys, it's always bothered me, made me jealous knowing that she was fucking and sucking bf. He had her in his life and never knew what he had (has) in her.

He still has her. And now, because of my own actions, I don't. She's removed herself from my life, pushed me completely from hers.

This, -this- is what it's like to be alone.

I don't want to get out of bed. But to stay in bed leaves too much time for her to invade -every- waking moment. Hopefully the movement of the day will bring some distraction. Hopefully i'll only be thinking about her 95% of the time.

I really don't see how i'm going to be able to go on.

And then I think about tomorrow, Monday. How am I going to be able to get past 930am or so, the time we'd have usually talked or at least chatted? tomorrow, and every day after that, a lifetime without her.

Fuck. I can't make it through this. There's no way. People say the pain dulls, fades, the loss more distant, until finally you're able to move on. Move on? I don't want to move on - i've lost my best friend, my lover. She knew me, still knows me (although i'm sure she's already begun trying to forget me) better than anyone else ever has.


1045am

I need to be working but I can't. I wander around here, seemingly with a destination and a purpose but when I get to another room I don't know why i'm there and go to another.

It feels as though, for the sake of my sanity, my very survival, I need to put this pain aside. Besides the fact that that is an impossible task and that I don't want to put aside or forget -anything- that has to do with her, I need to keep my offenses fresh in my head, along with their consequences if i'm to ever be able to change myself.

B, please, can you hear me calling to you? Please answer me back, please let me back into your life. Please.


1140am

Paint. Check the pool. Rest a minute. The world continues to turn as though oblivious to what's happened. My world is shattered, my future so completely changed and so much -less-, and miles away a woman is feeling betrayed, lied to by the person who, above all others, should never, ever have lied to her or hurt her in any way. That would be me, I'm the man who hurt his best friend, the woman who he loved with everything he had to give. Me. I did that.

I am the betrayer Judas. I am the cheat, the liar, the bastard prick, the one not to be trusted. How is it that that is who I am? I really thought that on the whole I was a dretty good guy, a decent guy. But I'm not, am I? I'm no different than any other jerk you might know. That's a difficult realiztion to have to accept. Difficult enough on it's own, overwhelming when it comes at such a cost.

Overwhelming. I can't move.

If it wouldn't be yet another abandonment of my ex-wife and my daughter, I would just leave. Go somewhere, anywhere, to try to escape. Everything I have reminds me of her. And then me of what a shit I am. Even this pocket pc is -her-. I got it because it enabled us to keep in touch better.

Huh. I just thought of this: the wifi on this ppc was the key reason for me to get this. The morning of the last day that B was in my life, Friday, the wifi had stopped working. Just as my life had stopped working.


1240pm

B, I love you. Please forgive me. I'm not sure I can make it without you, not sure I want to.

No one seems to ever read this but me. That in itself is kinda sad and lonely and pathetic, ain't it? B has said she's read it a few times. On the off chance that you might read this again...

B, I'm so sorry. I think you know that. I can't change the way I've acted. I should have been changing my behavior from the previous chances you gave me, but I didn't, or at least not enough. You have no reason to ever believe me again, or even to ever talk to me again, and certainly not to forgive me. Yet, I'm going to ask you to do all those things, yet again. Please, I beg of you.

The only possible redeeming item I can offer as a reason to do so is our friendship, the special friendship we've shared for so long. The betrayal and hurt I've caused you may far overshadow the value and benefit our friendship brought you or could ever bring you again, but it's the only thing I can offer you that may have any value to you at all. Please consider it, please think about it, please open up to our friendship once again.

Please?


315pm

Time drags on, crawls by. She's with me every second. The sound of the anger in her voice when she said goodbye (and "fuck you") on Friday echoes in my head. Not just anger though; hatred, disgust, deep hurt, betrayal, shock even that someone she trusted so much, loved even, would be so hurtful, so disrespectful.

Anger. Hate.

Dismissal.

She's done, gone. Given too many chances and been hurt each time.

I wish that the love we shared, the bond of the friendship we shared were enough to make her want to try again, but I don't think so. She's given me forgiveness and "another chances" for offenses she never would have tolerated from anyone else, only to have me commit the same or another offense. Why should she think this time would be any different? I've certainly given her no reason to think so. If anything my actions would evidence the exact opposite.

That's one way in which we look at things differently. I value the intimacy we shared so highly, know how rare and special a gift that is to be able to share that with someone, that I would suffer anything, give chance after chance until I just couldn't anymore. (How can I say how much I valued what we had, recognized it as such when I acted so stupidly??) But maybe she's at that point now, where she just has no hope of this being good enough or again, where she just can't.

It's 430pm for her and she's probably wrapping up, or close to wrapping up whatever she's been doing this afternoon - jetskiing, out on the boat, yard work. Clean up, have dinner, workout, bed. Or is she head to head with him, working anew on their relationship? Never mind the possibility of sex, has she now recommitted herself to that relationship with bf, now that i'm no longer a draw for her, no longer something she wants, no longer a distraction?

With each passing moment I feel like she's putting more and more distance between us. I'm alone and watching her fade into the distance.

Alone. No B in my life, no friend that I can count on like no other. No B who valued my friendship, who loved me, who wanted me in her life.

Alone.


550pm

I can't function. G-ddamn it, I can't even fucking function, can't concentrate on anything, except B. She's in my head constantly - she's always been just a half-thought away from my consciousness, brought to the forefront every few seconds or minutes, but now she's all I see, all I hear, all I can think about. The mental image of her, constructed from the pictures she's sent me and the "essence" of her taken from the thousands of emails and countless hours of phone calls and chats is staring me in the face, eyes alternately furious and hateful and then just sad that we would come to this, then disappointment that I turned out to be this person that she nows sees. Her voice is in my ears - her laughter, her sighs, her tears, her words of strength or consolation and then the rage at being lied to again.

Looming even larger than her presence is the -absence- of her that I will even more acutely feel starting tomorrow. Since friday her absence has been the normal weekend time apart when we'd almost never communicate anyway; maybe a quick chat, occasionally a short phone call. But tomorrow starts the work week again. If we talked twice a day it was unusual - our norm was three to five times for a total of perhaps an hour or hour and a half or as much as three hours. We might also email a couple of times, and sometimes be on chat over the course of the day, sometimes for hours at a time. Starting tomorrow, her absence will become unmistakeable, painfully obvious by her silence.

She will have done what i'd feared she might someday do - just completely vanish. I never thought that the reason she might do so would be something i'd do or that i'd be so completely the cause of her going. It will be as though she's fallen off the face of the earth. I have only a couple of ways to even try to contact her. There's email, chat, snail mail, and a voip phone number (voip is voice over ip, a computer to computer phone call over the internet). She can easily ignore my emails, even block me as a sender, although I don't really even have an email address to send to because bf has access to (and checks) all her previous emails. Because of that i've been sending her emails to my own account which she's able to log in to. So she will just not go into my email anymore. She'll just stop using the chat name I know, and she'll just never launch the voip application on her computer. Effectively becoming absolutely unreachable by me. I can try to send her snail mail to her po box, but I suspect that will be closed down shortly. Even if I did manage to get mail to her before she shut it down, there's a trash can right at the door to the mail place where she'd deposit my letter, unopened.

I could try to find her, but to what end? If she were to see me around her area, she'd notify a friend on the p.d. that she's seen a stalker and/or tell bf she's being followed. And even if I did find her, so what? I can't make her talk to me. No, finding her would only ensure a more final separation, destroying any chance of any future contact, if there even is a chance, someday.

As far as she is concerned to my life, she might never have existed, because she's completely gone to me now.

Forever.

Fuck. The enormity of that word, the -finality- of it, washes over me again, tearing my heart from my chest, loosing the tears from my eyes.

She's gone.

Because of me.

My life ended on Friday, June 3rd, 2005. My heart died then. My hope died then. My body will live on, giving my brain years to relive how i hurt her, how i sabotaged the most important relationship of my life, how i lost the best friend i'll ever have.

I am a man; not a very good man, obviously, but a man. I am not afraid to show my emotions, was never closed emotionally to B. But right now, i'm going to crawl into a corner of this house i'm painting and cry. Tears are rolling down my face now, obscuring my vision, so i must stop for now.

I will mourn the loss of my friend. I love you B. I am -so- sorry.

So very sorry.