i'm such a disappointment

so much has trnaspired, bu tthis is not the time for catch up.

she comes back form the weekend so pulled back. and it was a tuff day, coz the tension betweeen us and how it effected her. neevrtheless for me it was as its always been afgter a weekend - my B came back and thats whtat counts.... shes'' back after a weekend.

she attens a dance class and sometines she calls me after... but not tonight... and i really thought tonight she would call...

but no...

she had other things on her mind... more improtnant things.

him, her girlfriend, her hubby...

afterall, i'm just the assshole whos hurt her tine and time again

nothing more than i desrve

to her former master: FUCK YOU

i'm really losing it. or already lost it.

i'm pretty sure i've already lost her. no matter what, i can't seem to please her. 

hey.. and her former master - i have a feeling you're reading this.. and guess what? FUCK YOU.

you only got her because i fucked up. and yes, there's a good chance she's going to call you again and tell you that she tried to make it work with me and we couldn't. so in a sense you win. but you know what? FUCK YOU. first off, you have her body, yes. but i have her heart and her mind. it may seem like what you have is more important than what i have but consider this... i know her better than you'll ever know her. i know her heart and her inner self. i know who she is. and while we may not have been able to make it work, you only got her -because- we couldn't make it work. you were SECOND STRING, second choice, got it?

yes, she may leave bf and you may leave your wife and the two of you may spend many years together. and because it's -her- i'm happy. she deserves happiness. but just like bf never had much of her? there's parts of her that -you'll- never have too. she and i have shared much that you'll never know. so FUCK YOU. 

she's told me that the two of you laugh at me and laugh at how stupid i was for "choosing" someone else over her. and maybe she told you and maybe she didn't, but it wasn't a -choice- for me. i got caught doing something i shouldn't have been doing, which she took as a conscious decision. no matter what, whether she calls you in a week or a month or six months to tell you she wants to see you again, FUCK YOU. she and I will -always- share something special and something unique and you'll never have a part of it.. you'll NEVER know the parts of her that i know.

FUCK YOU.

asshole.

no matter what happens? you'll always be second choice - because she and I couldn't make it work. yes, maybe you'll have her. but you were SECOND choice. get it? 

fuck you.

and here, this'll make you even more proud, so you can puff up and feel so fucking superior, okay? i'm gonna give you this. not sure why. but one thing is for sure.. you better fucking take care of her. if she winds up with you, i'll be dead by the end of the year; but rest assured, -you- will not be free of me. if you EVER hurt her, ever abuse her or make her cry, i will be back. 

she is a precious, precious gift. if she and i don't make it, it's because of me, because i couldn't be what she needed me to be. i f you EVER hurt her, i will be back. one way or another.

yes, you gave her the 20 man gangbang she wanted, just weeks after her and i ended. and you've treated her like a slut and given her away and all that. good for you. ask  her where she discovered that she even wanted those things. 

FUCK YOU.

asshole

an unwanted puppy

this post deleted because it was a piece of crap.

like the rest of my life.

fuck it.

using or being used?

she is my love, my life, my future.

i don't know why, but she wants me. i'm not sure i care why, other than to be cautious that it's actually -me- that she wants, not revenge or some image of me that doesn't exist.

she is my heart and my soul and my love and my life.

i have no doubt, none, that all of my life that has transpired before, all that i've been through, all that i've been and done and seen and experienced, all the pain and the pleasure, all the emptiness and the loneliness that i've experienced before now, all of that was designed, intended, to bring me to this point, to bring me to her.

i know this to be true. how, i don't know. but looking back, looking at all that's transpired to bring us to this point, it has to be true. there's no other explanation.

so much has happened in the last few weeks.

and yet, we find ourselves right back at the beginning. where we both know, and acknowledge, that we belong.

there is no future for me other than with her. none. it's like those ?Final Destination? movies where, no matter how they cheat Death, it has a way of catching up to them. and in our case, no matter how I fuck up (for it is usually me that fucks up), the universe has a way of putting -us- back together. actually, it's always -me- that fucks up. her only error has been waiting too long, when she knew our time was -here-, knew it was time to act. 

she sent me pics tonight. that in itself isn't unusual, as she's sent me many pics recently. but these, which, g-d i wish i could post to share her beauty with the world, are exceptional. her beauty shines through. she is so gorgeous. so beautiful, so innocently pretty.. even as i know she'd look the same way (and did look the same way) as the 20th guy in the room stepped up to fuck her in her biggest gangbang.  she is a slut at heart; and i love her. she will soon, g-d willing, be -my- slut, and i too will have her gangbanged. i will give her away to other men who don't even know her name (other than to call her "cunt" or "slut")  to fuck. i will hand her off to a room full of men to use as they would use a purchased whore. and through it all, she will shine. her face will be as beautiful as the pics she sent me tonight. and when i take her from that room and i hold her in my arms, and i tell her that she is -my- slut, -my- cunt, the love will flow between us. for she knows, in her heart and in her soul, that she is a slut. and i know it too. and my love for her grows with each man that fucks her. 

why, you might wonder? because when they have finished, when they have pulled their limp cocks from her pussy or her mouth, thinking that they have conquered something, she and i will know that it is -they- who have been used, they who have been but props in -our- play. because after they have used her cunt, after they have been given permission to cum in her mouth and on her tits and in her mouth, it is -me- that she will be with. it is -me-, her Master, that will take her in arm, caress her, shower her, clean her up and love her, it is her and I that will relive the experience and bask in what -we- took from it. she will leave the gangband with her head high, her pussy sated, her need satisfied. i will leave the gangbang with my slut, with my cunt, with the woman that i love. and together we will know that -we- have used them, for they are but props, placeholders in the life and the love that we share. 

she is a slut at heart, yes. and even on her own she would fuck ten or twenty or thirty guys. but together, we will do more. together, we will feed on the base lust of those bit players. together we will feed -her- lust, and mine, and like vampires, we will feed on them. 

together.

they will never know her name, never know her as anything other than "cunt" or "slut". and we will never know them as anything other than -props- in our life, in our erotic journey, in the life that she and i will share. they may thing they have scored for having fucked another cunt. when in actuality it will be -us- who has taken from them what -we- wanted. 

they will leave and go back to whatever existence they led before. and we will continue on in our lives, in our shared life, and we will grow on the energy that -we- took from -them-.

and together, we grow. stronger and stronger. 

and more together than ever.

believe me when i tell you that it is -us- who is using them, for our pleasure.

i know this to be true

why can't i make her happy? it used to be so easy - pleasing her was one of the great joys of my life and i was able to do so often. It's still my joy to please her - but i so seldom seem to be able to anymore. 

i try. but i want her so desperately, need her so much, that i pull and pull at her and all she sees is that i'm pulling at her. she can't see the reasons behind it, can't see that it's with the best of intentions, won't see the love and care and tenderness that's the root of everything i do and want to do for her.

it's so frustrating, in every way. maybe i'm off in fantasy land or something, but i can so -clearly- see how our lives could be so different. but it takes the certainty that -i- have that if she would let us be together, that we'd work it out. but just as strongly certain as i am that we would work is how strongly deadset she is against giving us the opportunity to try.

i would probably get kicked out of the "guy club" for my views on how our relationship would be, but fuck it - don't much care for the club anyway. our love would grow back to where it was. mine for her is still there, as strong as or stronger than ever, but she has none. doesn't have any love for me or us and can only barely remember it as a memory of something she once wanted. 

i can so clearly see how we would grow and heal and progress toward the -us- that we are destined to be; the us we'd be well on our way toward being, had i been able to keep my cock in my pants. i can so clearly see how we'd be. Not that it would be easy street, not by a long shot. We'd have hard days, some very hard days. But together we'd get past them. And we'd heal and grow, together. and the bad days would be less and less frequent, although they may never go away altogether. but what couple doesn't have bad days? more importantly, -we- would grow and grow closer. our love and our like would grow and grow and deepen and mature. i feel this, i know this, i see this, i believe it - with every fiber of my body, with every bit of my heart, with all that i am, i know this to be true.

i know all this to be true. i just do.

she knows that she can't stand to be in the same room with me.

but the thing is..

none of it matters. 

i know me. not as well as i should, that's apparent. and not as well as she does - she said some things about me yesterday that were bang-on on target, but that i'd never thought of before. 

i used to know her that well. until i hurt her and she changed herself. and now she won't let me know her again. doesn't want me to know her.

but still, i know some things about me. and i know that i will play the fool, again and again. and i'll let her hurt me, to the core, whether it's done intentionally or not. i'll let her rip my heart out and gleefully shred it, time after time. i know that every time she tells me (or doesn't) that she's seeing her master, sucking him at lunch or fucking him when hubby's out of town, that no matter how much i think i can't take it anymore, that i will take it. and come back for more.

because i know how i feel for her and about her. i know the love for her that's in my heart. i know the passion and desire for her that fills me.

i KNOW that she and i are destined to be together. she says she knows it too but that too much has happened and she doesn't see that destiny being fulfilled anymore. (that is, she will prevent it from happening.)

i know that i will chase her and wait for her until i die. 

i know that when she finally makes it clear that there is absolutely no way she will ever let me into her heart again that i will be ready to die at that point.

she's making her argument, her position, her absolute, unchangeable "no" clearer and clearer.

i really need to watch "Leaving Las Vegas" again. nicholas cage, at the end of his proverbial rope, decides to kill him self by drinking himself to death in 30 days. well, i've been practicing, that's for damn sure. i don't know if 30 days is doable. but thirty months is. and seems like a pretty realistic timeframe.

is it happy hour yet? oh, right there are no more happy hours for me. just unhappy ones. unhappy hours, days, weeks, months, years. an unhappy life. all caused by me. because i didn't believe my love when she finally told me she was ready. because i couldn't keep my cock in my fucking pants.

what kind of fool am i?

the worst kind, apparently. the kind that -knows- what to expect, dreads it, but asks for it anyway. the kind that continues to play the fool, even knowing his role.

we all play that role at various times in our lives, to varying degrees. but, i've never played the role to this degree. and yet, i know that i've barely scratched the surface of what i'll endure. because the (potential) reward for the role is the ultimate prize, the ultimate reward - her. and i know what i feel for her inside - so i know what i'll endure to have her, if that's even possible anymore.

i felt bad yesterday because i delayed her leaving her office when she was in pain and only wanted to get home. i felt -bad-, although i continued to engage her in conversation. she called a couple hours later, having just gotten home. "from errands", she said. of course, i know what the "errand" was. it was her on her knees, servicing her master. it was her bent over, begging for more pain from him. i felt bad, thinking i'd delayed her getting home, when actually she stayed until it was time to go meet him. fool check #1.

during a conversation some time ago, i thought she indicated to me that she was no longer seeing him. i didn't focus on it, because i kind of didn't believe it, despite wanting it to be true more than anything else. and she's kind of confirmed my thoughts that perhaps she was no longer seeing him. fool check #2.

and here's the biggest one of all and the one that landed us here. after -years- (literally, years) of waiting for her, begging her, courting her, wanting her to share her life with me, when she was finally ready, when she finally invited me to her, to -begin- our being together, i got caught fucking a whore. fool check #3. fool check-mate. 

game set match.

now she wants nothing to do with me. 

i chased her for four years and she wouldn't even see me. she met and decided to fuck her master in 30 minutes. 

and the really interesting part? this might really be the telltale indication of just how much of a fool i am... i'm hoping that she'll want to see me tomorrow and friday, on my way to my next city/job. i mean, what the fuck? -really??-  but yeah, really. there's nothing i hope for more than that she'll want it too. or maybe even -suggest- it, bring it up first. 

and even beyond that? i'm hopeful that she can somehow see a future for -us-. 

and give up her master.

and want me, once again, as her Master.

and want to share our lives, our friendship, our intimacy. the unique friendship and intimacy that has been the cornerstone of our relationship. 

i'm thinking that being able to stomach being in the same room probably has to occur first. 

is it a lot to ask?

why can't i win her heart back? why can i not reclaim my place in her life and in her heart?

she still laughs with me. we still have conversations unlike what either of us has with anyone else. (unless she has them with her master/lover, which i'm still not sure about).

-i- feel we connect on a different level than with other people; or at least i do with her. i know she used to feel the same way... but that was -before-.

in the meantime the roller coaster ride continues... from elation and hope to despair and hopelessness. 

is what i want really such a big thing? after all, all i want is for her to forgive me for betraying her and abandoning her, then to take me back, then to leave her new husband and her comfortable life, give up her lover/master and want me to own her again, to want -me- to be her Master again and try to live with me. for the rest of our lives...

is that really asking so much?

the devil is in the details, isn't it?

isn't that what they say, that the devil is in the details?

she, my beloved B, has told me many times that i favor the big statement, the sweeping generalization, the absolute of anything she says. 

on the other hand, she has always maintained that i should pay attention to the specifics of what she says, pay attention to her actions and what they signify, that her intentions and her desires are evident in the little things she says and does, if only i would pay attention.

and yet, it's the little things she says that really hurt, that point out to me, again and again, the level of the hurt in her heart, the degree of the pain and the betrayal that i put on her. and the level of her resistance to a future that includes an "us".

which brings us to today. we were discussing a book that we're close to finishing up and as we usually do we were in an interesting and engaging conversation about our book. the day had gone well, for the most part. she had laughed, giggled even, and our conversation had been full and interesting and at the same level of intensity as we've ever been. as we meandered away from the book, we talked about many other things, including food.

one of the things she's always ribbed me about is chicken fried steak; something i like and that she claims to have never had. 

today, again, she said she'd never eaten it. feeling close to her (as i tend to do most of the time), i said "maybe the first time you ever have it will be with me". 

and then the devil reared his head.

"I'll NEVER eat chicken fried steak" she said, fairly emphatically. and in a softer voice "you can't say things like that".

"I'll NEVER eat [it]". just like that. a tiny statement, a small part of our conversation. 

and yet, it carried far more impact, far more emphasis, far more -certainty- than had she yelled it from the rooftop.

"maybe the first time you ever have it will be with -me-".

"I'll NEVER eat [it]". 

fin. fact. question asked and answered. 

NEVER. 

not "maybe". not "that'd be fun". not "perhaps".

NEVER. not with you, not with my husband, not with my lover, not with friends or family or strangers. but mostly, NOT WITH YOU (me).

i've told her that -i- am ready to take up with her, where we left off. i know she can't do that, that the reason i can do it is because -i- did the hurting, i'm the one who hurt her, not the other way around. she can barely stand to be in the same room with me for 15 minutes. so it's no surprise that the thought of being physical with me would still be beyond comprehension for her. and that my offer of having her leave her bf/husband, immediately, now, and marry me, now, for good, for life, for better or worse, is as inconceivable to her, as meaningless to her as a copy of the dictionary written in swahili. the swahili dictionary, at least, she could find some use for, find some value in.

but not so with regard to a life with me.

"I'll NEVER eat chicken fried steak".

NEVER.

she says -i- always emphasize the absolute.

NEVER. there's not much more emphasis needed on NEVER, is there?

the law of disproportionate feelings

i should write a theorem about the "law of disproportionate feelings" (or impressions). hm. okay, i guess that's what -this- is ;-)

i hurt B, the woman i love, my soulmate, my beschert (meaning "intended") more than anyone could ever have believed. more than anyone who loves another could ever, under the wildest, most unimaginable circumstances, ever do to the one they love. 

now, i'm trying to find a way back into her life, which is where i want to be. it's where i want to live, to love, to die.

she's having a hard time with it; not even sure it's something she's willing to entertain. or even able to, even if she decided she did want it.

so what happens is the law of disproportionate feelings. the disproportionate part relates to her feelings and change in feelings vs my feelings and change in feelings.

i believe that i can influence her - somewhat. actually a very tiny amount. any other "positive" change in her feelings for me or for us has to originate from her, from within her. this may occur in response to something i do, but it originates from within her. and in reaction to HUGE changes in me, or in response to VERY good times that she and i might have (whether in chat or email or on the phone or even in person), there's a very small change in her feelings toward me and/or us. 

on the other side of the equation, she can definitely influence me - with the tiniest action. everything she does and says and every action and every word, every comment, every laugh, every vocal inflection is revisited and evaluated and dissected to see if it means -anything- about how she's feeling about -us-, if there's any change in her heart. a tiny thing, THE TINIEST thing that she might do that feels like kindness or softening of her heart toward us and i'm literally -awash- in elation and good feelings and hope.

disproportionate feelings. huge changes in "us" = very small change (if any) in her. small things from her = HUGE changes in my feelings for her/us/my hope.

for example, we met again last week, twice. those were the 5th and 6th times we've ever been within close proximity of each other and actually -talked- not on the phone. on friday, she even let me into her office; we were in the same physical space. close enough to touch, to hold each other, to kiss - if that were something she could do. she couldn't - in fact, had to ask me to go outside after a while. regardless, between the visits the week before, and the chats and talks we'd had, and those visits and the emotional times we'd had while talking... all that had a HUGE impact on me. HUGE. they were at once difficult and good and welcome. and to me, to my wishful thinking, very significant.

and yet...

next week i start a new job in a new city. just like the last three jobs i've started while i've known B, i worry about having time to talk during the day, time to chat. given our situation now, i'm even more worried. 

chatting may be an issue, we just don't know yet whether chat will be possible at the new company. if not, there's always chatting via the phone, like at my last place, but that's less than optimal. better than nothing though and i'm glad to have it.

talking could be an issue. she doesn't have my phone anymore. she goes out for lunch everyday, an hour that we used to always talk. what she does now i don't really know. i suspect she sees her lover but i'm not sure that's true. perhaps she simply gets away from the office, runs errands, i don't know. i can't ask her to stay in her office, because everyone needs to get away for awhile. she doesn't have my phone anymore... but i do. i even brought it with me last week when i went to see her. i knew it was too soon to offer it to her. well, not too soon for me to offer, but too soon for her to take it, too soon for her to even consider it. i knew it and didn't say anything about it to her. but i hope that time will come soon. if she could do it, it'd give us time again. time we used to have - her commute to/from work, lunch, weekends. any impromptu time she might find to call for a few minutes.

my new job is near her. well, not CLOSE but nearer than i've been to her since the first few months we knew each other. -we're- farther apart than we've ever been, but physically closer than ever. 

and yet... we're close too. there's still this seemingly impenetrable wall of defense she's put up against me, between us. but it's a variable wall. sometimes it's taller or thicker than at other times. sometimes it's not as solid as at other times. sometimes she lets me scramble up the outside and peer in at her, lets me reach my hand toward her. other times she lowers the rampart, so that we can see each other across the top of the wall. sometimes she stands in the open doorway, not passing through it to my side nor letting me pass through, but she stands in the doorway as we talk. 

i can see her, closely guarding her heart. but my heart -feels- her heart... and i believe her heart is talking to mine... 

i have to believe that. otherwise, there's no future.

brave new world?

what do i talk about without the fear of jinxing what we've accomplished so far?

i've talked before about her character and the strength she has inside. but now i've been able to -see- it at work. up close. in person.

despite her fears/concerns, she said i could see her again last week. right there, the very fact that she could broach the subject and let me know that if i wanted to come up to her area, we could talk, more or less in person. 

every speeding law known to man was broken to get to her.

thursday was hard. like the week before, she was unable to let me into her office but we talked from within sight of each other. that in itself was a big step for her. i loved it, despite being so close and yet so far, because a) i could see her and b) we were talking. talking, almost in person, but TALKING. during conversation, her defenses rose and fell, sometimes visibly, sometimes i wasn't aware of it until she "stiff armed" me in the chest to push me away. but nevertheless, we were talking again.

she about killed me when it came time to leave though. i was in my car, gathering my wits and my breath. i wanted to watch her leave. i know this might sound stalker-ish, but it wasn't. the sight of her is like a narcotic to me. her curves, her walk, her face, her hair. she hadn't let me see much of her during conversation. in fact, she even said that while i was in the area, she was dressing "covered up", making sure (subconsciously?) that i didn't get to see -her-, didn't get to see her sexy self, her body; shielding herself from me. anyway, i wanted to see her, see her walk, see her -whole-. she wouldn't come out. finally she called me and said she WOULD NOT leave until i was gone. i snapped; completely lost it. i was blind with pain, with rage, with hurt, with remorse, with the painful knowledge of what i've done to her. i remember tearing out of the parking lot. the next thing i remember is pulling into a parking lot and a car honking at me. it was her. she said i was driving erratically, nearly hitting curbs and other cars. i know i was zoned, but i can't really say. the thing that i remember about the whole thing? that she was concerned about me.

friday's conversation was much the same and yet very, very different.

we talked and the conversation was different than thursday. easier somehow, although still difficult at times. (something that will continue to be a part of our conversation for years to come, i'm sure.) the amazing thing? she let me into her office. for only the second time in the 4.5 years we've known each other, we were in the same room, talking person to person, not over the phone. this may sound ?insignificant? to other people, even ridiculous to some, but for us, for -me-, it was huge. HUGE. especially given her hurt and state of mind and the level of guard that she's maintaining when dealing with me. 

what does this mean? i don't know, honestly. in some ways, i'm afraid to think about it, for fear of jinxing any future possibilities. on the other hand, i still firmly believe that she and i will be together, permanently, as partners. we -belong- together. she says it too, although the hurt in her heart and soul make her question if, despite being -destined- for each other, there's been too much hurt done (to her, by me) to get past. i cannot accept that. i know the hurt and the pain that i've caused her and us; it's with me all the time. but talking to her, seeing her, reinforces for me that we are meant to be together. as i've said many times before - she is my beschert, my intended. and i believe that i am hers.

FUCK FUCK FUCK

self-restraint only goes so far... only works so long for me... unlike for her.

she seems able to keep herself restrained.

so far i've managed to not push her to see me on thursday and friday, days which are convenient, i think for both of us. good for me because i'm not working and could easily drive to her area for the two days... we could have lunch, after work, maybe even some of the evening depending on bf, then lunch and after work again on friday... so, yeah, convenient for me and easily doable for her.

but she doesn't seem interested in (or able to) getting together those days. still too hard for her to take.

too hard. fuck. too hard to meet and talk?

and the internal pressure to ask her, beg her, plead with her to please reconsider, to please give us this time to be together, to spend some time together.

fuck.

we should have been LIVING together right now. instead, she can't even stand to be in the same room with me. can't handle seeing me two weeks in a row.

fuck.

yeah, that was me

and what will today bring? i start on edge already, knowing how her yesterday was, wondering where her head will be today. will i be a good thing in her day today or a drain on her energy?

the nights get longer and longer knowing she's there, a million miles away. consuming prodigious amounts of alcohol used to help, now it just makes the nights darker. and longer. and darker. and longer.

and then there's thursday and friday looming on the horizon. well, -my- horizon, as they don't seem to be on hers. two days when we could spend several hours together. if she wasn't seeing her lover. if she had any interest in seeing me. if she could stand to be in the same room with me.

if i hadn't destroyed her trust, her faith, her love, her soul.

yeah... -I- did that. the crowning fucking accomplishment of a stellar fucking life. the ultimate betrayal of the woman who -owned- my heart. and she was betrayed by the one person in the world who she should never have been worried about... the person who swore he'd never hurt her.

yeah, that was me.

and ... so?

she had one of those days today... she needed "ease" from me, no pressures, no heartache, nothing but comfort and support. and yet again, for the 598th time, i failed at providing it.

to be honest, i don't think i completely failed her. what tends to happen is that i do support her, but my needs, my wants, my need for her and for support from her overshadow what i do give her, to the point where it's completely nullified and she doesn't see or feel it at all. so she doesn't feel it, which means she pulls back because she feels as though she's not getting from me what -she- needs (which is true insofar as she's not getting enough of what she needs), so then i feel her pullback, which means -i- feel isolated and unloved, which makes me put more of -my- needs in the foreground, which .... blah blah blah, neverending circle.

the net result of which is that she doesn't get what she needs.

looking back, i realize that i have NEVER failed to fail her. you name it, i've failed at giving her the support she needed from me.

and i wonder why she won't let me back into her life, into her -self-.. into her heart.

it feels hopeless. i've so often failed her, failed to give her what she needed... and she so seldom ever really -needs- any support. but i've consistently failed her. is it any wonder she's reluctant to let me back into her life, as her friend, her lover, her partner? it's almost laughable to think that i want to be all those to her again... and more... for i still long to be her husband.

and she's not even able to sit in the same room with me.

we were so close to having every thing we both wanted. so close. days, literally, days away from it. and i failed her there too.

fuck.

it's so easy to love her. so easy to love everything about her.

when she does finally reject me... i'll be done, finished. unable to take it, to carry on without her.

and why should i?

i'm so lost, so confused

i was on a long road trip last week, changing my city from where i was working (and from where i lost B) to my home city.

B and I talked a lot last week; talk and chat. and she even consented to seeing me on thursday and friday.

she -saw- me... we talked, face to face. and it was good, damn good. it was light and good and easy... for me at least.. i know there were times it was hard on her. but i also saw many times when it was (dare i say) good for her too, when she enjoyed our time together.

she seemed to enjoy it. got to hear her laugh. see her smile. hear lightness in her voice.

and today... monday. and she starts pulled back. and stressed by juggling too many balls at once. and i'm no help to her.

i used to be. before i betrayed her trust, her faith, her love.

the double standard

so, i was right. she's having nothing to do with me. because i lied to protect her.

and then it occurred to me what a fucking double standard she's applying. because she NEVER lies. no sir.

she hasn't lied to him in the 10-12 years of their 14 year relationship when she tells him she loves him but really doesn't. or the countless times she lied to cover talking to me, even after she got caught. and she certainly didn't lie when she told him she loved him enough to finally -want- to get married. and she doesn't lie to him when she sucks her lovers' cock at lunch or fucks him when bf is out of town.

no. she never lies. it might -appear-, to someone who doesn't know any better, that those are all lies and that she's done them for a single reason - to avoid hurting bf.

yes, it might appear as though those are much larger lies, done to intentionally deceive someone in order to get away with things. or, you might think that she's lying to protect bf from being hurt.

such an easy mistake to make! no, those aren't lies at all. when i lied about the two -tiny- things in order to protect her from unnecessary pain, THOSE were lies. and as she said to me this morning: "but they're so basic and simple. go to the foundation of a relationship".

indeed.

she never lies. not for any reason, not to protect anyone's feelings. and if she does, i'm sure it's justifiable.

just not in my case.

the mundane amidst the unusual

so we know from my last post what the topic of the day is. i'm still undecided. that in itself bothers me because, well, im a world-class procrastinator. one pill down and the first strong drink about gone. right now we're at the getting a good buzz stage.

so, the mundane amidst the unusual. contemplating suicide (i hate that word for some reason, but it's too fucking long to say "taking my own life"). to be honest, i suspect it won't happen. anyway, even knowing that's where tonight could wind up, i still did laundry. and went to the grocery store because i needed coffee and milk. how fucking bizarre is that?

geez.

teh mind is an unusual machine, that's for damn sure. that it can contemplate ending it all in order to stop the pain, -know- what the implications are, like, uh, probably won't need much coffee, much less a gallon of milk, and still plan out thoughts like "gotta get bigger boxes to ship some things, do a change of address and get coffee".

to be honest, i probably won't do it. i'm chicken. not that i'm afraid it'll hurt, because it wouldn't. a few weeks ago i did have a gun in my hands, pondering the same thing, but i gotta think that -that- would hurt, even if only for a second. and what a mess for someone to have to clean up. i always thought (yeah, it's occured to me several times over the last 10 years or so) maybe i'd lay down with my head in a metal bucket or in the tub to keep the mess down.

the other reason is that i want to talk to her again, if she's gonna talk to me. i suspect she won't but there's always a chance. and if not, i know i'd write her a few times and maybe she'd respond, although if she's not talking she almost assuredly won't be replying to email. i'm like the rat in the third group that i wrote about a few weeks ago. i can keep hoping and hoping and hoping that she'll give me some attention. maybe even some love.. (hey, it's my fantasy).

and also, haven't i hurt her enough? even though she'd know that it was my decision and my action, she'd put some ?blame? on her self.... and i can't have that. i've already put more hurt into her heart, more pain in her soul than anyone should ever have to bear... this would just add to it. what a Catch-22; want to die because i've hurt her so badly she can't stand me and i can't live without her, but doing so would put more hurt on her.

fuck. how did i get here? and how could i have ever hurt her so much? g-d, please tell me that you have a reason for all this. please tell me that she's supposed to endure this because it'll all turn out better for her in the long run.

only a day later than i thought

i've been called self-destructive by many people... my mother, both my ex-wives, friends, work-friends, a couple of people who barely qualified as acquaintances, a therapist and by B, my former best friend. I say former because she doesn't consider me a friend any more.

i suppose i've always agreed with that diagnosis. i've had a lifelong affair with drugs, although fortunately it's always been under control, never more of an "issue" really than cigarette smoking. it's certainly never affected my work, or caused lost time or accidents or lost jobs or anything like that; it's always been recreational. many would call that self-destructive behavior, although i don't. ditto for drinking; i've always had a pretty high tolerance for drink, and i enjoy it. here too, i've never had a dui/dwi, or alcohol related accident or lost time, or any of that.

social behaviors, however, have been a problem and continue to be. what do i mean by that, you might ask. at work, i'm frequently a go-getter, so long as i'm interested in what i'm doing. let boredom creep in and i lose interest. the same thing happened in high school; i was bored so i didn't apply myself, only going to college when career advancement required it and by then i was interested in learning, had an appetite for it, the coursework was interesting and therefore i applied myself.

but what i'm specifically getting at is something different and here, there are two things that i tie together in my mind, the combination of which gets me in trouble. often. today, it ended the relationship i most value in this world, my relationship with B. it's hard even to call it a full relationship, because after what i did in october, we've been apart and for the last three months i've been working, hard, to get her to try to take another look at me, at us, and see if she might somehow come around to giving us another try.

i cannot handle confrontation. period. plain and simple. it locks me up, freezes me, affects my mind, makes me unable to function almost. also, i'm really a pretty nice guy. i never try to hurt anyones' feelings, or cause anyone any unnecessary hurt. i think that's something that most of us do and to do that we often tell "little white lies", we don't tell details that may unnecessarily hurt someone else, especially someone we care for.

so, for the sake of any regular readers (hehe, of which there are none, except for me), i'll spare the retelling of the recent rocky history of my relationship with B. i've said many times that i honestly believe that she is the woman that i was destined to live the rest of my life with. she believed it too, up until late last year.

B and i did not have an in person relationship. for over four years we've been chat, email and phone, although we did finally meet in june of last year. i left my wife shortly after i met B and have been pursuing her wholeheartedly for the last four+ years. during this time, B continued in her long time relationship with her live in lover/partner. during this same period, i was single, and found a couple of adult relationships. these always troubled B, understandably. on the one hand i completely understood how she felt about my fuck buddies; on the other hand, i'm not sure she completely understood how her refusal to meet me for so long, and the ongoing live in relationship that she was in affected me. basically, i felt that she told me "no" to meeting, to starting -our- in person relationship over a thousand times.

so, during those fb relationships, i didn't tell B everything. first off it was hard because in a lot of ways i felt guilty for having them when what i really wanted was to be with B. second, the details hurt her, a lot, and more than once caused us to "break up", or nearly. so, i obscured many details. which means, i lied.

there's different types of lying and different intents. there's malicious lying - where you tell someone something that isn't true, just to hurt them. NEVER tolerate someone who does this. there's lying to "get away with" something bad or that you shouldn't be doing. of these, ones' -intent- needs to be taken into account, i believe. lies told with "malice aforethought", ie, with the intent and planning to get away with something, are bad. and then there's the white lie, which for all intents and purposes is harmless and usually intended to spare someone else some unnecessary hurt. i will say that most of the lies that i told B were in this category; lies about stuff that ultimately would mean nothing, but that would have hurt her, for the time being, and possibly caused her to pull back or even break off our relationship.

i have done both with B. i had a relationship with another woman, which B knew about. she wasn't happy, but tolerated it because of our unique situation. i let that relationship encompass things, emotional, mental and physical things, which were sacred to B and i, things that she and I shared, that belonged to her and I, that we discovered together. but i let some of those things creep into the fwb relationship that i had with this other woman. and then i lied about it to B. why did i lie? first and foremost, because i wanted, needed to keep my relationship with B. as i said, i firmly believe that she and i are destined to live out days out, together. i lied because i'd been caught, been called out for taking those things away from my relationship with B and bringing them into this other relationship. and i lied because telling the truth to B was too hard for me to admit and to try to avoid hurting B more than she already was.

for the record, it doesn't work ultimately, the effects are ten times worse than if you just deal with the truth and the fallout from that when it happens. but that's a hard lesson to learn, no matter how many times you get beat over the head with it.

now, some people will say that lying is lying. period. B is one of those people. to her it doesn't really matter if you white lie about whether or not you drank right from the milk carton, or if you lie about fucking other people. a lie is a lie is a lie. intent is not a factor. severity is not a factor. a lie is a lie is a lie. and she cannot tolerate it. period.

and so we come to where we are today, or more accurately, where we were yesterday. i know B damn well. she says i don't know her much now because of how much what i did in october changed her, but i say i do still know her. and while she was maintaining her distance and keeping me at arms' length and not admitting that she had any interest in rekindling our relationship, i knew that there -had- to be some spark of interest left in her, some hope of an "us" again, otherwise, why would she put up with the constant reminders of the pain i caused her? why would she talk to someone who did to her what i did to her?

so, fast forward to today. it's been a almost a month since i broke up with the other woman to try to get back to where i belong - with B. i haven't had much contact with her, but some; the reason isn't important, but even B concedes that some contact seemed prudent. however, i lied to B about something trivial - how the woman contacted me, i think. and something else, which was that i left out something the woman wrote in a card to me. in both cases, on a scale of 1 to 10 in importance, they were zero's.

but the thing that stands out the most is that i lied. and when i've been begging B to continue to talk, to take it a day at a time, to see that i've changed, i said i wouldn't lie to her. but i did. and here again, intent or "scale" isn't important. the point is that i lied.

deal breaker. end of story.

she's done.

she wrote me, briefly, and confirmed what i'd hoped had been true.. that there was a spark, a chance, but that i've now killed that too. she said she was disappointed (meaning she did hope we'd make it) but that she was not surprised.

and now she's gone. she hung up on me probably 10 times. i wrote her long emails, talking about what i've done to try to come back to her, how i feel, what i see, what i see in her that makes me think that she too wanted another chance at us. but she's having none of it. i lied. that's all that matters.

we've been watching a tv series together, one that she's just discovered recently and enjoys. i saw it when it was first on tv. for a long time we've read books together and she suggested that we might watch this series together and talk about it. i wholeheartedly agreed; something that we could do together and talk about! so i didn't tell her that i'd already seen them. it's bothered me for a couple of weeks but i never said anything because i didn't want to lose the activity. i told her today. she just saw it as another lie.

and now she's gone.

we've been working at this for three months; she started talking to me again in january. due to scheduling issues, the woman i was with didn't leave my house until the end of february, but B and i talked daily through that time. since then, it's been more and more and while it's been rocky, i felt we'd made some progress. the last week or two have seemed pretty rocky. plus, i'm feeling depression creeping in again (it's been coming on for several months but is now... needing attention, i think, and i've been thinking about going back on meds).

thoughts of just giving up, yes, suicide, have been with me a lot. last week especially, when B was gone for 3 of the 5 days, even though we had pretty good days. by the weekend, i thought it'd be somewhat ... ?fitting? to end my life, and the hurts i've put in the lives of so many other people, on my birthday. it's one of those "special" birthdays too, which made the timing seem... again, "fitting" comes to mind. but, i needed to talk to B again, and did so on monday and we had a pretty good day, till the end. by then i wasn't much thinking about doing it.

and then there's today.

and in front of me i have a handful of pills; some oxycodone (percoset), some hydrocodone (vicodin). one of either, taken with a stiff drink or three, provides a really nice buzz. i looked up the warning info online... too much can lead to "respiratory depression"... hehe... in other words, you just stop breathing. probably long after you've fallen asleep though. it's funny - i'm not "scared" at all. the thought of leaving a mess here for others to clean up bothers me a little, just because it's putting them through an unpleasant task.

to be honest, i'm undecided. frankly, i don't see much difference in either course of action, except that staying on means dealing with the job situation, the money situation and more importantly, the start of a lifetime without B. so in many ways, the "easy way out" is really the easiest way out.

like i said, right now, i'm undecided. i think i'll take one and have a good stiff drink, then see where my thoughts take me. i'm pretty chicken, really, but i've never been more convinced of her conviction that she's done with me. i'd like to see my daughter get married and have kids someday... but i'll have to go through intolerable days, weeks, months and years without B in my life. and i'm not sure i can handle that.

so, we'll see.

what choice do i have?

i don't stand a chance with her; of that i'm pretty sure. she's hurting terribly, her soul damaged, her heart empty and wounded. i did those things to her; -me-. her soulmate, the one who loved her, the one she loved.

she's steadfastly refusing to budge any. not allowing herself to feel anything of, toward or about me (and us) other than pain and hurt and betrayal. who can blame her?

and yet, i KNOW IN MY HEART that there still lives within her a spark of desire, an ember of hope and longing. i know it. what we had was too strong, despite the terrible hurts i did to her. it's there and i think she knows it. i think she trys to avoid looking at it or acknowlegeing that it's even there, but i see it. rather, i don't see it directly, but i see the faint light it gives off, brightening the walls around her heart. it's there in little things she says. sometimes in the way her voice sounds when she talks to me. now and then it's in a laugh, or when she lets down her guard a little and she lets slip something about us building a friendship again and then perhaps more. but whenever she catches herself slipping, she grabs the biggest stick she can find and beats that little squeak of hope until it's battered and bleeding again.

i've wondered if i should accept what i've done as insurmountable and accept that i've thrown away my future and our future and changed what she wanted for her life. i've wondered if it'd be better for her if i just disappeared, stopped reminding her of the hurt, let her continue healing as she was. but i can't. i just can't. what she and i had, could have again, is so unique that i can't walk away from it. as long as there's any hope that she might soften enough to give us a chance, i have to try. there is no other choice.

in judaism, there's a saying that's said between lovers, man and wife, often inscribed inside their wedding rings. I don't recall the hebrew, but it's translated as: "I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine". while to her, "beloved" doesn't apply to me anymore, she is still my beloved. she is my beshert, my intended. how could i do anything else?

happy fucking birthday to me

she took a three day weekend again, because of easter. g-d, was this a long weekend. i knew it would be bad, but when thursday evening already felt like days since she'd left, i knew it would be a tough one. while it wasn't a record amount of alcohol consumption and self abuse, it was in the top ten...

she was in early today. naturally, i "know" why that was.. i'm sure bf is out of town and she managed an early morning session with her lover. after all, they missed some get togethers last week, so there's time to make up for.

we started the day good. then, memories of what i did to her bubble up and reopen the wounds and she turns caustic towards me and withdraws. it's understandable and i expect it and know it's gonna happen and can see it coming... but there's no way to avoid it, or change it, or steer us away from the pain. so she pulls back, hard... slams the door, hard. the killer of it is that she lets out a little bit, a tiny message from deep inside to me about what to do, maybe a little about how she's feeling, inside. but then it's like she realizes she did that and has to overcompensate by digging down and pulling up the bile and tasting it again, exposing again what i did to her, how i hurt her.

and then she goes, signs off.

i write to her, she says trying to convince her. a reasonable description, but not my intent. i just try to talk to her, tell her how i see things, how i interpret her actions, mine, my thoughts, her thoughts. and all she sees is that i'm trying to convince her. she told me all through our relationship that i was trying to do that; i maintained all along that i was just laying out my position, my interpretation of things and just putting it out for her to understand. it never worked before; if i was trying to convince her, i never did a very good job of it before, why would she think that suddenly i believe i'd be able to influence her?

i get passionate when i talk to her about us. and quickly i move to seeing the whole picture, the big picture and wanting to just explain what i see to her. but she's having no more of that than she is of any of me. am i wrong for worrying that the longer she stands with her arms crossed and turning her face away from me, even though i think that she's doing it on purpose and that deep inside she really -wants- to open her arms, wants to turn toward us again. call me stupid, but i believe, i really do, that inside her injured heart she really wants to be "us" again, but that she's afraid, so scared that i'll hurt her again, something she could not take. something i could not stand to do again. would not do again.

look, i have no illusions that i "deserve" another chance, or that there's any justifiable reason, from her perspective, to try again. i try to tell her that i know what i've done, i know -all- that i've done to betray the trust and the love she had in me and in us.. i know it. and i know that, while i truly believe she still has a spark of desire inside, she needs to protect herself. but again, i do, truly truly do believe that there is love for me and us in her, trying to get out and that she's stopping it, afraid of what could happen if she were to let it out. i try to tell her that the longer she stomps that spark down, the longer she turns her back on it, the more she beats her heart up with the retelling of what i've done to her, the harder and harder it will be for her (us) to ever get beyond that again.

am i wrong? i tell her (okay, plead with her) that we should do it now. start getting past the pain now. talk, as much as possible. meet, for lunch, as much as possible. there's gonna be painful, hard conversations and visits, but good ones too. and the longer the pain is dragged out, held onto, the less likely she'll ever be able to see us again except through that veil of pain. we've gone back and forth with an analogy of a couple that's getting past infidelity and betrayal. and it's actually been a darn good one.... she's said that they don't just hop right back into being together as a couple, that they have to learn to be together again. i agreed, with one difference: they ARE together. the whole reason they're together working on it is that they have agreed on what the desired outcome is: to preserve the relationship, to build trust and love again and to stay together. we don't have that. we don't have that shared goal (well, -i- do, but she doesn't or won't admit to it). we don't have the luxury of the all day every day being together, where there's all kinds of interactions and moods during the day... lots of routine things, some good moments, some great moments, touching, being together, some bad moments, some crying and some pain and some contrition. we don't have those moments together, that time together. which is why i've told her that (i think) it's so important for us to start seeing each other, to start -acting- as though we are getting together, even if it is acting, for now. we need to have the opportunity to just -be-. to have those mundane moments, the routine moments. we need to have the opportunities to build more -good- time together so that when the hard moments come, and they will, we have more and more of a base of good to build on, to use to get us through the hard times.

but she's not interested.

so close and yet so far

it turns out she was in my city, over the long weekend, for a trade show.

twelve miles away.

twelve. 65,000 feet, +/-. 15 to 20 minutes by car.

it might as well have been twelve million miles.

this is what i have done to her.

and by extension, to us.

self service set up, #525

i don't know why i'm always taken aback, surprised...

and then i remember what's happened. and that she's married. and has a lover. and a life.

we end great (in my opinion, probably "fairly good" in an objective appraisal) on friday. i bemoaned her leaving early saying it was like a three day weekend and that made me :-( and she seemed to agree... (although i want to believe it was because it felt that way to her too, now that i think about it, she was probably saying she was sorry i would feel that way). she's with me in my thoughts all weekend; i wrote her a lot over the weekend.

woke up a little late coz i kept hitting the snooze and freaked because i thought i might have missed her signing in to chat.

um, no.

clearly she has more important things to do... whether take the day off, maybe spend it with her lover, maybe she's terribly busy at work... maybe she just has more important things to do, like counting paper clips... or maybe it's just a regular day for her and -i- just haven't occurred to her yet.

regardless, i've done it again.

and again. and again. and again.

A Waste of Lives (part 1)

This will not be a happy tale. There is no surprise ending where everything works out in the end, no sudden twists of heretofore overlooked details that provide an easy solution to the problems encountered.

This will not be a happy tale, although there is much happiness along the way. Happiness and sadness, love and intimacy, elation and depression, betrayal and support. So for those of you clicking your way through the ether, looking for five or ten minutes of diversion before you get bored, let me save you a lot of time and I'll tell you how this ends.

The subject of this story (and it is a story not a tale, for this is a true telling) dies. He dies at his own hand, alone and unhappy, full of regret and sorrow, ashamed of his life, of his actions, of the trail of hurt and pain that he's left in his wake. He knows in his head and in his heart and in the very core of self that his life has been the catalyst for all the pain trailing behind him.

I am he. So there. You of short attention span can click on to something else, go find that next spellbinding reality show like "Real American Vagrants". For anyone else who may persist here for a while longer, let me warn you once again. This is not a story intended to entertain or to bemuse or to warm your heart with poignancy and a happy ending, for there is no happy ending. There is an ending; two actually. The main part of the story ends, ended, when my actions forced Tracie to remove herself from my life. The final end, the cleaning up of the last lingering dirty detail, is yet to come. That end coincides with my ending. My ending is that end. At that time, I will no longer be a threat to the happiness of anyone else. Sadly, my passing will not remove the hurts I have sown up to now.

From where I am now, not yet at the end of my life, but soon, I am already excruciatingly aware that my life has had no value. Perhaps that's not entirely true; my seed was required in order for my daughter, my lovely, bright, beautiful daughter to grace this world. And, I speculate, that along my twisted, sordid path, I may actually have provided support to a dear friend who was herself sick and hurting and alone and who by her own admission might have taken her own life during a particularly dark period if not for my support and friendship.

Playing my part to bring the gift of my daughter, who we'll call Amy, into the world will undoubtedly rank as the only achievement of any value that I was ever able to call my own but we must, in truth, admit that the providing of biological material was really the only part of her existence that was uniquely me. Her upbringing and education could have as easily been shaped by another man, perhaps even with better results.

The other "accomplishment", for lack of a better word, in my life that stands with any value is the role I may have played with a friend that I met late in life. Beth was weakened with an unknown and debilitating illness of varying symptoms which prevented her from continuing in what had been a promising and accomplished career, sometimes prevented her from climbing the steps and occasionally even made breathing difficult. When I met her she was already over a year into it and slowly declining. She was indeed in a dark place. We hit it off immediately and spent much of the next year and a half together. She helped me adjust to a newly single life as much as I may have helped her to continue on. By the time we finally parted ways, she had told me several times that she treasured our friendship and thanked me for it, admitting that without it, she wasn't sure she'd have had the strength to stay alive through the dark times.

Now you have to admit that's a pretty short list of accomplishments for nearly fifty years of life. Sadly, the list of actions for which I'm ashamed is significantly longer.

There are many shames and regrets in my life. An ongoing, on again/off again poor relationship with my mother, no relationship with my father, an early marriage and divorce, a long marriage of nearly twenty years to Rhianna and finally, a love and a life found then lost with the woman I was destined to spend the rest of my life with, Tracie. Each of those black marks in my lifes' record of actions deserves a chapter devoted to them alone. If there is time, I will write about each of them in turn, for they each deserve more for having endured my passage through their life than passing mention.

Tracie especially deserves more; deserved much more than she ever got from me. To be honest, this story is about her. She is, was, the nexus of my life, the intended destination of all the years of my life that lead up to meeting her. To really understand who Tracie was to me, which frankly I don't expect to be able to adequately convey no matter how much I write, for no matter how long, you need to be able to hold one thing that I will tell you as the unequivocal truth: I loved her, and moreover, I knew that I loved her and I knew that I would eventually spend my life with her from within days of the time we first talked. It may have been fifteen days or twenty six days, I'm not sure exactly when I knew, but I knew, quickly.

A sidenote here: if you cannot accept that as fact, as a fact of my life and my experience then you will not ever be able to understand who Tracie is to me. And if you cannot accept that I knew that she and I were destined to be together from almost the very beginning of our relationship, then you may as well stop reading now because the rest of this will not make any sense to you. If you cannot accept as fact the love and the destiny that I immediately knew was to be ours, then the telling of our story, of the trials, the troubles, the joys, the love and the ultimate betrayal of her and our love by me will not hold a fraction of the significance that they should. Unless you can truly understand the depth and the intimacy of the relationship that Tracie and I shared you will not be able to really grasp the depth and the extent of my betrayal of her and us. And unless you can accept and believe and understand the love we shared, then you cannot even begin to grasp the pain and the hurt and the injury to her very soul that I did to her. The betrayal of her, of all that I loved, which will soon lead to my end.

As of this writing, she and I still have a relationship, of sorts. In her words, we're "superficial friends". I'm not sure why she still allows this relationship, even at this level, but I don't question it, for to question it would be to make her reexamine it and look more closely at it and that would surely make her decide to kill it for good. That relationship, superficial as she may think it is, is what keeps me here and able to write these words. I feel I need to put these things down, soon, because I fear that the day quickly approaches when she will finally be tired of even this relationship. When that day does arrive, there will be nothing to keep me here any longer, and I will write as much of this sorry tale as I can before the emptiness and the pain, the sorrow and the shame, move me to action.

I must admit that part of the reason I feel the need to write this is as an act of penance, of contrition. I feel the need to admit, publicly, the hurtful things I have done and the shame and regret I have for all those things. But to be honest, there is another reason. I have a partly formed plan that after I have finally left, this will be delivered to her in some form. Not as punishment, G-d no, for she has suffered more than enough at my hand already. Rather, I hope this would serve as some apology, some explanation to her of how I really felt and maybe why things happened as they happened. I want her to know that through all the years of ups and downs of our special relationship, I never resented anything she did or didn't do. And to be completely honest, I hold some hope that someday, after the pain and hurt in her heart have diminished, that she may read this and think back on our time together, perhaps even fondly, and know that my love for her was true and real and deep, just as she thought it to be, before my betrayal. It's partly a selfish motivation, I know, the desire to be remembered not as a cad and a hurtful person but rather as someone worthy of her love, but in truth, that is how I pictured myself. Her friendship, given freely and without reservation, was the light of my life. Her love, given absolutely and without limit, was the light of my soul.

To think that I could destroy those precious gifts, so haphazardly and so casually, the very gifts that I had sought and pursued and nurtured from her for so many years, is beyond understanding. But the sins to be laid out here before you did happen; I did them. I'm not proud of them, by a long shot. The doing of these things destroyed the very life and the love that I sought with her. But I did them and I accept responsibility. If only bearing that weight could remove the hurts from her heart and from her soul then I could go so much more easily.

as sure as death and taxes

again. and again. and again.

she continues to hammer into me that she has no desire for anything with me. that there is no possibility of a change on her part. no parole, no pardon. no interest.

"no thanks"

and she laughs about it. as though the very notion that i could even -think- she might want me again is ludicrous. and maybe it is, but not to me. i know what's in my heart for her. i know that she is my future. or should be. she's clearly chosen to make sure that never happens.

i understand, kind of. but if she were to feel something again, and know that the love that's underneath it for her is real and true and that the future that we could share -is- what she wanted, what we wanted and could still have, then why, -HOW- could she consciously, methodically crush each feeling? why couldn't she want it again, once she felt some twinge of it?

when i couldn't understand, a year or two ago, why she couldn't, wouldn't see me and i was sure that she never would see me, i thought that that was the lowest low i could ever experience. it was devastating, desolate. and yet she can sink me far, far past that now with just a few words, casually uttered as though no more than a "have a good night" and followed by a slight laugh. these times are as black and bleak and utterly devoid of hope as one could imagine. these times are to what i thought was the darkest possible as utter black is to the whitest white. the difference in magnitude is so stunning, it's indescribeable. and it scares me because the mind seems to have no limit on how depressed it can get. the body or the conscious usually being the weakest link and succumbing to the need to end the pain far before the mind has reached the limit of how deep it can sink.

all of which chills me to the bone as i start to get some inkling of the pain she's described to me.

the pain and the darkness that i brought on to her, that i put into her heart. the pain and the hurt that makes her not want anything to do with me, even though the possibility of the best and the brightest of "us" is still ahead.

so she'll live her life, "settling" she says. settling for a well off life, with her lover/master on the side. and a possible family. and carrying a pain in her that will subside over time. and perhaps someday, a year or five or ten or 30 from now, she might have a fleeting memory of a love she once remembered and wish that maybe she had given just one more chance.

but i'll be long dead.

so much changes, so quickly. yesterday and today were good days in the job search. yesterday was rocky with her but still okay. today was good for most of the day. and then, revenge, retribution. a few days ago, or last week, i wasn't sure i would see another New Years'. the last couple days that seemed like such a crazy thought, because it began to feel that there just might be a possibility of more with B again.

it's thursday. friday is a long way away. and friday's with B are short, because she leaves early to spend the afternoon with her lover.

i don't think about whether or not there'll be another new years.

i wonder about monday.

i don't have the strength she does. she's lived through the worst that one human could ever do to another, emotionally. i don't know 1% of it and i know that i cannot make it.

her rejection, which for so long i feared was real, now is real. and final.

and i cannot live with that. or without her.

so i won't.

as the world turns

i don't know; i just don't.

she has no time to read. can she be seeing her lover that much? or be so busy at home (or going out) that finding a little time to read is impossible? (i don't think girls read in the bathroom!) for me, it's such a pleasurable thing, an escape from the world that no matter how ready i am for bed, a few mins is enjoyed. but then, i also always feel that she's doing it too and that we'll be able to talk about it the next day. or is it because -i'm- reading too and she doesn't want to have any of that kind of connection? or maybe she is reading and not telling me? i doubt that because she'd just say "i don't want to read with you". i have a feeling she's avoiding it simply -because- she knows i'm reading too. and what a crime if i've spoiled her love of reading on top of everything else.

she has been sick though. and then gets upset with me because i'm concerned. i know it's because she's thinking i didn't want to be with her so why should i concern myself now. she must know that's not the truth.

and she tells me about a dream she just had, with me in it. those dreams used to be erotic, loving type of dreams. not so much anymore. not so much as in never, no way, not the slightest possibility. as much as i'd like to think it's a good thing that i'm in her dreams, after hearing the dream i'm not sure. in the dream, she was avoiding me. she kept walking away from me, wouldn't turn when i touched her shoulder, wouldn't answer when i said her name. she was soaking wet a lot of the time too, she said from rain or being splashed. to me, she was wet from the tears she cried because of what i did. then, she was going in and out of rooms in a three story building. three story, obvious - three men. bf, her lover and me. she'd go into a room and i'd soon follow her there, whereupon she'd leave again to get away from me. ya don't gotta be a genius to figure out what that means.

everything i do is wrong. no matter what. all i remind her of is betrayal and hurt and pain.

i wonder if i'll EVER be able to rise above that, if she'll ever be able to see -me- again?

what a day

well, this was just a fucking -banner- day.

i pissed off B before ever talking to her or chatting with her with things i wrote to her last night. she had an early and lengthy lunch appointment. she couldn't or didn't want to chat much or talk much the rest of the day.

and she's leaving early. three guesses why.

another sign

as if the yellow Road Out Ahead signs dotting the highway for the last ten miles aren't enough... as if the wooden barricade placed across the road isn't enough... as if the huge pile of dirt blocking the road isn't enough...

as if each of these signs isn't fucking concrete enough proof that the road is not passable ahead, so too she's given me plenty of signs....

me: can you talk for awhile?
B: no, he's [her lover/master] here to fuck me

me: can we talk over lunch?
B: no i'm seeing him

me: can i come see you, just have lunch with you?
B: no, i can't stand the thought of even seeing you.

me: baby, i swear, we can have our future again.
B: no, you killed those parts of me. there's no recovering from that

me: but love, please, we can find our way, together
B: no, that's not possible

any reasonable man would be able to figure out what she means, no?

not me apparantly. but then, no reasonable man would ever, EVER have done what i did to her. no reasonable man would EVER have not bolted to her the second she said "come see me".

this, however, shakes me to the core. this could possibly do it.

we'd talked about, after getting together, whether kids would be in the future and decided no, they wouldn't be. there's a number of reasons. for myself, primarily selfish ones. if B and i were to get together, i figure we'd have 20 years together, maybe 25. and, selfishly, i want her to myself, don't want to share her with a family. i wanted her and i, -us-, to have a lifetime of enjoying each other, of doing what -we- wanted to do without the obligations of raising a family. and she was okay with that.

now she's thinking about getting pregnant.

"why not" she says. "i had two life paths in front of me and the one i wanted is gone, leaving this one."

why not?

has there ever been a shorter, more succinct death sentence?

the timing is always so great too. this morning i started writing something to her, that she may have chosen not to read, when it finally got sent, which now there's clearly no point. i wanted to write her and describe in detail where i thought we'd have been right now (that might have been enough to keep her from wanting to read it), and more importantly, how i thought our lives might have been. but the most important part? i wanted to describe for her how i thought we could go on from where we are, right now, today. the hurdles we have to face, some ways we might get past them, what feelings we may be having, what hopes we might feel building inside. maybe she'd have been able to see these things, feel them, hope for them.

instead she's thinking about getting pregnant.

i must be really -thick-

she's just told me again, for the twelve hundreth time that she has no interest in seeing if we could ever be an -us- again.

i must be thick as a brick.

i read this in a book:

... random reinforcement. put three groups of rats in separate cages, each with a bar. The first group gets a pellet of food every time they press the bar. The second group never gets pellets, no matter how often they push the bar. The third group gets pellets just once in a while.

The first and second group will get bored with the bar. The third group will press the bar forever, hoping each time that they'll get lucky.

I'm in the third group. I'm the rat (in more ways than one) and she's the reward. and even though she tells me that there will NEVER be another reward, never ever be another chance, i just keep pushing on the bar, hoping for the reward.

like i said... thick as a fucking brick.

but, the REWARD!!! she's worth it.

if only she thought i was.

tuesdays. not ruby tuesday, either

it's tuesday. which means she has a lunch "date". (okay if not today, then tomorrow).

hardly a traditional date though. this date is for a single purpose. he's lunch, she serves.

my heart pounds just with the thought of it. -i- did this; -i- put us her, put her there. with him.

i die. he cums. she cums. if not at lunch, most certainly during the evening session.

my own private hell.

one she says she knows well, from the shit i've done to her. she says she can't get the images of me and the other woman out of her head. i understand, completely. and as always, too little, too late.

but the library isn't being added to three days a week. for the rest of her life.

fuck. i'm such a jackass.

B, my love, my intended, my beschert, i'm so sorry.

so sorry.

you may not be living your dream life, but you're happy enough... you say.

g-d i miss you.

on second thought

i had a little medical emergency yesterday. it was little, hardly an emergency, but i did have to go to the ER. while the problem wasn't life threatening, left untreated it could have become so. being just a -little- prone to worry and projecting problems into the future and growing them in my head, i was of course aware of the possibility. as i was in the er, i was thinking "i could lose my life". this of course, like just about anything else that happens in my day made me think of B.

WHAM. WHAMWHAMWHAMFUCKINGWHAM.

the phrase that kept echoing in my mind (think of the final scene of "The Aviator") was "i've lost my wife" (meaning not my ex, but my B). and yes, i meant my -wife- not my life. over and over and over and over. hitting me harder and harder each time it echoed, each time revealing more and more the awful truth that I DID THIS TO US. i've lost my wife. we wouldn't have been married yet, of that i'm sure; it'd have been too soon. but, we'd have had our private commitment ceremony, just the two of us. we'd probably be living together TODAY. and no doubt, because we talked about it before, we'd be living toward the day when we would get married.

i've lost my wife.

she's right ->there<- i just can't seem to reach her. i feel her heart beating, but when it turns to me it's bruised and battered; by me. i did that to her.

definitely back on the roller coaster of emotional upheaval/distress/whatever. when i woke up this morning i felt.. better. i knew she wouldn't call me to wake me (got to bed really late and asked her to call me if i wasn't up and online by the time she was), coz that'd show... dunno; something she can't/doesn't wanna show toward me.

but i felt better going to sleep and when i woke. and contrary to what i said here yesterday, i thought maybe getting to and through another weekend was possible, likely even.

yeah.

tears of a clown

man, i am some piece of work.

i am so close to breaking. i've had it. i can't take another disappointment, another let down, another realization that -i- am my own worst enemy.

i can't stand seeing constant reminders that she's happy now, that she has her life.

that it was -me- that made me not a part of her life. and not someone she cares for anymore.

instead of being exactly where i wanted to be right now, today... i'm -here-. which is nowhere. running down this extremely steep path, gathering speed as i go... i look back and see her... there's a tear in her eye (i think it's a tear.. maybe it's just a speck of dust).. i think, or at least i want (desperately want) to believe that she does or could still want me... but .....

yes, i'm a drama queen. and an asshole and many other things, none of them very worthwhile (just ask her). but fuck it, it's how i feel right now... remember the monty python skits that always had the 16 ton weight falling on somebody?

it's sitting squarely on my chest. punishment for what i've done, to her, to us. to me. my heart pounds, it's hard to breathe. my eyes constantly fill with pain. how could i have done this? i don't understand. i don't.

i so wanted to see my daughter graduate college, get married, have kids. i very much wanted to retire with B and travel. we had such great plans.

i so much wanted to hold B in my arms, tell her how much i love her... feel her heart beat with mine... see her look in my eyes... hear her tell me she loves me... i wanted to read to her, stroke her head as she sleeps on my lap...

i'd give anything to see her again.

i don't think i'll see another new years. not sure about the weekend, either.

well, at least it helped for the weekend

after our conversations on friday, and some unexpectedly ?positive? email, i was apprehensive and yet... felt supported or uplifted somehow, about going into the weekend. i had to move this weekend, yet another step on the life path that i fucked up last year. more and more painful reminders of how i had EVERYTHING i wanted almost right in the palm of my hand - and i lost it.

but still, thoughts of her and her words were with me, kept me positive (as positive as i've been able to be lately). i reread our chats and emails several times, both trying to discern exactly what she was saying (-was- it positive, or was i just imagining it to be so?), drawing some comfort from them, and wondering if in fact i was just deluding myself.

and then, monday.

and it's like bam, bam, bam.

i actually had the audacity to think that, after friday, she'd be ?eager? to get back in touch. BAM.

we'd talked about reading over the weekend, which i did, loving every minute, even trying to do it when i speculated she might be doing it. BAM. that she said she wanted to, intended to points out how good her life must be these days. BAM. probably bf was out of town over the weekend and she spent it with her lover. BAM BAM BAM.

all weekend i sent her thoughts, comments, things to talk about when we talked. BAM

how can i blame her though? look what i did to her. and to us.

i feel like all that's happening in my life right now is some cosmic karmic retribution for what i did to her. there's no action on the job search. my taxes for last year, alimony, child support and amex bill will wipe out my bank account by the middle of april at the latest. the cash i have on hand might carry me another six weeks. after that? bankruptcy. telling the ex that i can no longer pay her. my daughter is over 18 and in college, so the child support was voluntary on my part; not that i want to stop, and i'd continue aiding her as much as possible. oh, and let's not forget that my career niche is fading away and i don't have the money to pay to cross train into something else and even if i did, starting in something new wouldn't earn me what i need to pay alimony -and- eat. oh, and did i mention the foreclosure last year and the shortfall judgment that is waiting on the horizon?

well, at least my estate will pay a few more years of alimony. lucky her.

and in the time i have left, B has already said she has no desire to see me.

have a great day everybody!

another end

another ending today - the end of talk between B and i for the week.

she'll end her work day by seeing her lover for a lengthy session of sex before going home to her husband. there, she'll have a weekend of her life. they'll go out, or stay in. perhaps attend a sporting event. or go to her favorite swing club. she may go to a favorite scenic location one morning for a run - or to meet her lover.

i'll end my day much later and with not nearly as much fun. my day will end wondering where B is, what she's doing. i'll already have sliced my soul to shreds, again, knowing that she's already finished with her lover. and then? the interminably long hours, minutes, seconds until sometime monday morning when, hopefully, she'll reappear in my world.

in just a few short hours, she'll say "i have to go" or "he's here", both meaning it's time for her to serve him. just thinking of those words i start to break down. hearing them completely destroys me.

at one time, she wanted me. while i'd love to have her want to be -mine- in that way again, what i want, wish for, need... is her affection, her love.

what has happened to me?

lunch was our time. we always had an hour or so to spend together. she might be driving or running errands or tanning, but she always took me with her. like i said, it was -our- time.

there is no -our- any more. or an -us-. or a -we-. i killed that.

now she spends lunch sucking or fucking her lover. and that lover isn't me. should have been, could have been, but for me.

i wonder if they have a rented place they go to? or is it in her car or his? surely hotels several times a week would be too expensive, a needless waste of money. does she take him to her house? i doubt it because even if she has permission to play with him, sometimes bf works there and it's too long of a drive to have any play time. i know that ofttimes after work he comes to her office and takes her there. does she go to his office, close the door, get under his desk? more than likely it's a combination of all of these things.

i did this to her, made her life so that she has him to fuck, not me; him to love, not me. him to spend her mornings, lunches, afternoons and evenings with, not me.

why can't i undo it? because she's happy with what she has now, doesn't -want- to undo it, doesn't -want- to look my way, our way again and find -us-.

i have held the future, the very future that i wanted, the one that i knew i was destined to have from the moment i met her, in my hands. and i fumbled it. i've picked it up again, but she no longer wants any part of it. or of me.

and i have held the merchants of death that reside in my garage, securely locked away (for now) in my hand. and i've wondered: could i do it? do i have the strength, the mere six pounds or so of pressure required? am i that much of a coward? and if i did, would she miss me? would she even care, personally? or would it just be the same sadness that she might sometimes feel for the life that -we've- lost?

and then i wonder... a long time ago, she said some of the things she liked about me were my strength, my independence, my ability to be on my own. what happened to that guy? when did i become no longer him? when did i lose -everything- that she once liked about me?

what has happened to me?

her new love

i can't even say how much it makes me happy that B (g-d how i wish i could still say "my B") and her new dog found each other.

when i talk to B, it's SO OBVIOUS how much love she has for the new dog.

B is a pretty firm believer that everything happens for a reason. without me fucking up our future, B and the dog might not have found each other. is it possible that B and i lost our future (okay, to be honest, i fucked up our future) so that B and the dog could find each other?

am i, my life, whatever value i may have as a person, a friend, a lover, a partner so -little-, so miniscule, so insignificant that g-d saw fit to trade me out of B's life for a dog?

was it a good trade? the dog got B, B got her... and the dog will NEVER, ever hurt her.

which is more than anyone can say about me.

my life just gets better and better

some things you just shouldn't know.

and to think, it's all because of my actions.

the lover that she met because of me, that has taken my place in her life... she's managed to somehow integrate him into her real life. at the very least he and bf have met, if not being drinking buddies and having threesomes.

bf is out of town more than ever and she may have implicit or even explicit permission to play.

what was that movie, where the perpetually upbeat guy gets shot by the Germans, just -minutes- before the Allies arrive? wasn't it "It's a Beautiful Life"?

indeed. except in my version of the movie, i play both the Germans and the idiot who gets himself killed. my actions are the Germans and the life i wanted plays the guy who gets killed. and i, myself, get to play his kid - i get to watch the whole thing unfold. and like the kid undoubtedly was, i get plagued by nightmares of it, get the exquisite pain of watching it play over and over in my head, unable to to make any changes.

and if i'm not mistaken, didnt' the lead actor (Bellini?) get awards for his work? g-d knows i should get some for the amazing job i did.

my B has a new love!

she has a new love in her life, another new love...

a new dog!

she's been without one since her's passed away over a year ago. that was a huge loss for her and a huge empty spot in her heart. (huh - i wonder why she never realized how much love she was capable of having and giving when she has always been aware of how much she loves dogs).

but now that empty spot has been filled. and not just filled by bringing a dog back into her house, but changing a dog's life from neglected to filled with love - a double dose of charity and love.

i'm SO happy for her. since she lost the last one, i've brought up to her a few times that she should find another, but she was always against it, saying she didn't want to lose the memory of the other. the circumstances of this adoption were perfect for her - i think she knew immediately that this dog and her were going to be together. it's perfect for her and perfect for the dog. the dog will know love and care and devotion without limits. the new addition to her family is young, so they should be together for a good ten years.

when B told me about the dog yesterday, it filled me with joy and happiness for her, kept me company and smiling all night. still does and she even shared some pictures with me today. it truly makes my heart smile for her.

on the "me" side? i can only analyze it as being bad for me or any chance at "us" again. she's got it all now, the true american dream life. husband, lover/Master on the side, nice house, more than enough money, the dog, nice car, her own business (at least one that I know of, probably 2 others that i only guess about), beauty, intelligence. nothing lacking (other than what she and i wanted to share and i'm not sure that's important to her anymore). less reason than ever to change what she has.

almost perfect symmetry: she has it all, i have almost nothing. no job, no "home", no chance to have a dog, no local friends, an ex to support (with no income and dwindling savings), a foreclosure just complete (not coz i'm a financial scumbag, because i made bad decisions about a scumbag partner) and a judgement on the horizon. and i need dental work.

another plea for help

i've asked before, got no response, but i'll ask again...

if anyone reads this, please, please give me some ideas on what to do, on how i might try to win her back.

anything.

please help.

nothing

just nothing. there's so much i feel i need to say, although i can't gather my thoughts enough to make words, can't get anything to come out.

she is so dead set against me, us, against even the possibility of an us again.

that part of her is dead, she says, killed by me. turned into stone. i try to tell her that i understand what she's saying but that i -know- her and i know (we both know) the endless capacity she has for love and that given the chance, we could start over, know each other again, build our friendship and our relationship and then our love once again. but she's having none of it.

she's having none of me. wants nothing of or from me. wants nothing to do with "us".

she's happy with her new/old husband, happy with her Master, happy in her life.

happy without me.

which leaves me with nothing.

no B. no friend in B, no lover in B, no partner in B.

nothing.

we get what we deserve.

dead man walking

i don't stand a chance, which means that -we- don't stand a chance. she'll go on, as strong as ever, of course.

but she cannot, will not, even admit the possibility of there ever being an "us" again.

i'm confused. not because of the reason - that's abundantly clear to me, has been made abundantly clear to me many times. i hurt her, fucked her over, crushed her... as she says "a large part of my soul is gone, smashed".

she thinks she was tricked by me, that what we had was not real. she says that based on my actions and an outside observer could easily come to the same conclusion. but that's not the whole story. it doesn't take into account the 4 years i spent alone, without her, waiting and hoping and never knowing (until right at the end) when or IF she'd ever choose to be with me. ultimately i still bear the blame and the fault, i accept that. but it feels like i should at least be able to plead "no contest" or "guilty with explanation".

i try and try and try to get her to agree to just seeing what happens. to please just let me back into her life, to not forget, not even to forgive now, but just to see where we could be, how we could grow together again. she can't. or won't.

i'm confused. if she has no intention of letting me back into her life, her heart, then why does she talk to me at all? i'd say that perhaps she's "setting me up" for a revengeful kick later, but a) that's not how she is, and b) then why wouldn't she appear to take me back with open arms, the better to shatter -me- later? again, that kind of action is just not something i think she'd do; she's far better than that.

the only other explanation that i can think of, which itself doesn't really make a lot of sense, knowing her, is that she's doing it for herself. that she's talking to me now only until -she- gets something she needs from it, at which point she'll stop taking my calls, stop answering emails, stop chatting altogether. but again, that possibility doesn't fit with the B that i know. she's
told me many times how talking to me again has dragged up hurt and anger that she had managed to mostly get past, to bury. make no mistake about the strength of her character, her will. if she says she had dealt with it, it was dealt with. talking to me again has been almost a set back for her. so why do it? looking back on the conversations we've had over the last 2 months, i don't see what ?closure? she could be getting from talking again.

maybe one other possibility is again, revenge. maybe she thinks to keep me hanging on, knowing how desperately i want her, need her. keep me hanging on, perpetually hoping that she'll take another chance on -us-, on me. you could say that maybe she's getting satisfaction out of knowing the pain that i'm in, knowing that i keep hoping every day, only to have my hopes dashed every day. and she knows full well that she could keep me here in limbo for a long time... years. i held on and chased her for four years without even knowing exactly what could be; now that i do know, i'm sure she knows that i'll pursue her even harder. but again - that simply is NOT the B that i know and love.

so why?

i'm a dreamer and i'm in love with her, so it's hard for me to not say that perhaps she knows or feels that, given time, perhaps she would want to try again. just to keep my sanity (and my life) i -have- to believe that, don't i? yet at the same time, i think that, even given her level of pain and hurt, that she'd know inside that if there's a chance for us, then make that chance happen, that waiting only lets her harden herself more, puts more time between us. if she holds a tiny spark of hope, then knowing her, i'd think she'd want to move toward that, if for no other reason than to prove herself wrong.

so i'm confused. and hurting, for her, for us, for me. for all we've lost.

and the stone in my chest threatens to drag me under and under and under until i don't have the strength anymore to hope. and on the day that she convinces me that she really is not going to give us another chance, that will be the day of my death sentence. and i'll be a dead man walking until i finally have the courage to end it myself.

but for now i cry, here, now, this minute. i cry because i've caused the woman i love more than anything else in this world so much pain that she can't bear the thought of being with me. i cry because i've caused us both to lose out on what could've been a most wonderful life time of love, friendship and intimacy. and i cry for me because i did it.