The Life of the Living Dead

Another day. Another day without her to brighten my life. Another day to think about the carnal delights she's pursuing - with him. The added kicker for her erotic pursuits is that she's the aggressor, the instigator, the lead. It's -her- appetite, not his.

The words to a song are stuck in my head - "you don't know what you got 'til it's gone/they paved paradise/put up a parking lot". Thing is I KNEW what I had. So why didn't I act accordingly? Why my fucking stupid lies? I had paradise and threw it away for a cheap stupid sex chat with some anonymous woman. I know it wasn't -that- chat that did it - it was just the final straw when I lied about chatting with her.

Fucking stupid idiot.

She's said many times that maybe we met, were brought together for a reason other than to be together. I wonder if that reason might have been to force me, by suffering the greatest loss of my life, to examine myself closely, to take a long hard look at who I am, what I am, what kind of man I really am.

Right now I don't like what I see. I'm a liar. I lie about stupid stuff, stuff that makes no difference. I lie to cover up my procrastination. I lie if I think people will think the truth is "bad", whether they really would or not.

I guess the thing that really destroyed my life is that I lied to cover up something I KNOW I shouldn't have been doing. When I was chatting with B yesterday noonish and A pinged me, I knew I shouldn't chat with her. I knew it, yet I did it anyway. B and I had had an amazing morning of reconciliation, we were extraordinarily close. So why would I even consider chatting with A, especially when B has always made it clear that we were to always tell the other if we were chatting with anyone else at the same time. Simple rule under any circumstances. So why, after salvaging our relationship from the fiasco of the day before, why would I even THINK about chatting with A AT ALL, much less at the same time I was talking to B? Fuck. What the hell is wrong with me??

I really don't see, can't even imagine how i'm going to live the rest of my life without her to talk to, to be a friend to, to have her be a friend to me, to hear her laugh, to hear the closeness and intimacy in her voice when we get to spend quiet time together.

Where are you right now B? What are you doing? Have I crossed your mind since yesterday? Have you thought me in any way other than with hate or disgust or other than to despise me?

I seriously don't know if I can do this. Be without her, that is. More lyrics come to mind, from a country song where his woman has left him: "I breathe in/I breathe out/I put one foot in front of the other". Even that seems impossibly hard.

Being left by someone is hard enough, but the choice is made by the one leaving. I get to know that the ONLY reason she left was because of my actions. And she'd given me so many chances, already been hurt by me and forgiven me. My stupid lies. Pointless, insipid, juvenile, stupid lies.

What the fuck is wrong with me?


215pm

I ate lunch - but not because I had any appetite at all, because I don't. It actually feels like i'm gonna throw up or something. My stomach is tied in knots, churning. Where are you B? What are you doing right now? I miss you so much, already, and this emptiness will only grow until it completely consumes me. I can't imagine how it can possibly get or be any worse than it is right now, yet I know in the pit of my stomach that this is just the tip of the iceberg.

I'm such a fucking idiot. I knew, KNEW that B was the best thing to ever happen to me and still I couldn't be the right kind of man to keep her in my life.

I'm not suicidal - but I don't really care right now if I live another day or not. I'd almost rather not - at least the pain would stop. Statistically i'll live another 30 or so years; but I feel like my life is over. Everything that happens in my life from this moment forward, every friend, every acquaintence, every lover, all will be in my life because I fucked up the most important relationship I've ever had - this friendship with B. Had I not forced B away, my life would have been different. (Think of the movie "Sliding Doors"...)

Every relationship will be a settling, a second place to what should have been with B, every friend less than the person who knows me better than anyone else has ever known me. Where the joy of having her in my life would have been with me every moment instead will be remorse that I wasn't a better person, a better friend to her, self-hatred that I could repeatedly disrespect her so, and the overwhelming sadness of having lost my lover, my confidant, my best friend ever.


410pm

I'm painting a house. Outside there's kids riding their bikes. Elsewhere people are shopping. How can all this normalcy continue on? Does no one else understand the magnitude of what's happened, the extent of the loss??

But of course the answer is no. It's my own personal disaster, my own hell. Not completely true I guess because B is out there and she's reacting to it as well, albeit completely differently. But for the most part she's just hating me, probably even glad to be rid of me. Ya know what? I don't blame her. My behavior is inexcusable. I would ask her to please try to find it within her to forgive me, but she's forgiven me before and we wind up here again. It's me, always me.

My ex-wife has told me since we've been divorced that she never realized during our marriage how selfish and self-centered I was. Even I was amazed when she listed example after example of it. Now I see that my behavior with B was just more selfishness, more self-centeredness. I knew it was wrong to chat with the other woman (or anyone for that matter) at the same time as I was chatting with B; but -I- wanted to. I knew it was wrong, fucking insensitive and disrespectful as all hell, to talk -sex- with someone when B and I were in the midst of such a sensitive conversation. And still I did it. Because I wanted to get this other woman into bed. Fuck me. Put your fucking cock back in your pants, you shit. While I'm working hard at salvaging (from another fuck up by me) my relationship with the most important person in my life, and at the sane fucking time I'm trying to get another woman interested in fucking me!!! Geezus fucking christ!! What the FUCK is wrong with me?!?

Geezus christ.

Now what? What the hell am I going to do? I only remember life before B as lonely; life after her and without her is going to be fucking desolate.

I'm in tears at the words, just at the -thought- of it. How am I possibly going to manage the reality of it? I'm not sure I can.

It's twenty five hours since I heard her voice. I can't fathom that I may never hear it again, at least not as my friend.

Fuck. I can't do this, I'm not going to be able to. It's too hard. And I don't -want- to be without her. And there it is again, "I don't want", "I". Always me, it's all about me. Never mind that I broke the trust of my friend, disrespected her YET AGAIN. Fuck.

Like I said before, i'm not suicidal - I just don't care if I live or not. I want to get completely fucked up, drugs, alcohol, sex, whatever, anything to take my mind off her. But because the universe says I must live with the consequences of my actions I know that none of those would have the intended effect. Probably just the opposite - I'd be even more aware of my loss. (Yeah, there it is again... -my-.. all about me). I want to give the keys to my gunlocks to someone else for safe keeping. Even though I don't have the guts to do it, in a drunken stupor, who knows? Maybe it'd seem like the best thing for all involved. I'd probably fuck that up too, wind up a fucking vegetable, and somehow my family wouldn't even get the insurance money.

G-d, do I sound fucking pathetic, or what?


630pm

For her it's 730pm; if she didn't take him to the swing club last night, then she's probably getting ready right now to go tonight. Showering, putting on a sexy outfit and stiletto heels, feeling the throb of excitement growing within her. There's no doubt that she'll be the hottest woman there, no doubt that she'll have her pick of any man or woman. All the times she and I talked about how we'd be visiting the swing clubs together, her and I. Yet another of the 9 levels of my own private hell.

Maybe there is a shred of what it takes to really be a friend to someone, to care about someone else more than yourself in me, because deep down, under the pain, I want her to enjoy her experiences, to revel in the sensuality and sexuality that she seeks and will find. B is a very sensual and sexual woman, by far the most so I've ever met. I hope she finds the very best erotic experience she could hope for.

And I hope I die.

I would give anything, give up anything, do anything to have her back in my life. But there's nothing I can do, nothing. Maybe if I can change, can grow a little beyond this person I am now then this won't have been for naught. Even if there's no intrinsic good to be had in the fact of me becoming somehow better, maybe I'll avoid hurting someone else in the future, avoid betraying some other friends' trust. A very very small consolation for me, but perhaps I won't hurt someone else.

B, I am so sorry. I beg your forgiveness, even though I don't deserve it. Please, please, please come back to me. Please.