Monday, September 19, 2005

And The Merry Go Round Broke Down - Volume 3

So I do what I do when I hurt, and that is I write. I am warning you all ahead of time that there is going to be foul language, even if I rarely use it, this is a pure feeling blog, so it is going to be RAW. I am writing this on Sunday afternoon, as I am still very weary from the whole drama that unfolded on me today, and I need to post this, if only a way to release it, and desperately try to turn it over. The events as they unfolded, in the order of how it all happened, and how it is rotting at me, and why. I was writing what was supposed to be today’s blog entry, and I tell ya, it was the best I had felt writing a blog entry in a long time. You all might not know this but I usually HATE everything I write, and I think it is like that depression voice that wakes up a few minutes before me everyday, and try’s to get the daily agenda filled. “You are fat! You are ugly! Everyone hates you! You are a failure!” are the most common themes that the depression in my mind are always screaming at me. I could very easily give in to them at any moment, but usually on a day to day basis, I rarely succumb to them. As I am becoming a writer, I absolutely think everything I write is shit, no matter how often I hear otherwise, but I do it because it usually makes me feel good when I get comments afterwards. This might change, and I am sitting in a cloud of depression right now that is blinding, while I am nursing my sick family, and quite frankly wishing I was dead. This too shall pass, I know.

I got an IM from someone I had never known before, and she happened to be the girlfriend of a friend of mine online. She knew that her boyfriend was with my ex-girlfriend and she {I guess} heard that I would be honest about it. I didn’t know, but I was willing to tell her honestly, that it was possible because I hadn’t heard from her all weekend, and that was really strange. He also hadn’t written a blog since that time, so the facts added up. I also allowed her to ask me the questions she wanted to know, and I answered her honestly. She never deserved any of the shit that he put her through, and it was obvious talking to her that she is a rather decent person, with bad taste in men. I talk to a lot of those, because those are usually the women I date, you see. I told her EVERYTHING I knew, and I had absolutely no bad feelings about it, because he earned it. Enough of that. I kept writing my blog assuming that the two of them were just having their fun, and beyond any of that, how they destroy themselves is none of my business. I have told them both to stay away from each other daily for over 2 months now, because she is too sick, and he is a big ol’ liar. Enough said.

My cell phone rang and I ignored it, because I was busy, and I had to get my blog done before the Patriots game {oh yeah that fuckin’ game made me feel a lot better}, but after it rang back, that I had a voice mail I noticed that the number was HER. I listened to the voice mail, and it was nothing but a lot of random noises, and then a huge belch, before it disconnected. I knew that was him, and I was going to call her back to yell at them both for being a couple of irresponsible twits! When the phone was answered it was him, and he wanted me to call him back on his phone, after I basically said “What the hell are you doing there?”, but I called him back on his phone because I had a lot more yelling to do. When I got him again, I started right in “I have been talking to your girlfriend … “ and a long trail of expletives, and a lot of blaming. He told me that it was HER that I should worry about. “Why?” I asked “Did she try to kill herself, like you fuckin’ knew she would?” because unfortunately that is what she does when she is really upset, especially when she is drunk, and scorned.

He told me several times that she was drunk when he got there. It was the most important piece of information he had, and I didn’t care about that. All the drinking they did together was what started the whole suicidal tendencies going down hill, so I didn’t give a shit whether she had started without him or not, what the fuck did he expect. They both fuckin’ knew better, they both didn’t fuckin’ care. Enough said. Of course it hurt like a son of a bitch though, because I once loved this woman, and very much still do, of course as a friend now. If I could have pulled him through that phone and separated his head from his fucking neck I would have, but I kept my composure and tried to talk him down from his fuckin’ ledge, despite my incredible distaste at the time. I talked to him several times throughout the day, as he waited for his plane back to fantasyland, where he lives. I talked more to his girlfriend {who of course is going to forgive him again, because co-dependants do that} and I am sure when the one who attempted suicide comes out of it all she will too. SICK CYCLE CAROUSEL!

I posted a message to the groups that I knew would want to know about the incident, since she {meaning the actual girlfriend} had gone into the chat rooms that the other two hang around in looking for them, and was blasted for being a snert. I also gave a warning about falling in lust online. There ARE people out there waiting for the needy, and there are always needy. I warned two part, because as I said, some needy are begging to get used out there, and on top of watching out that you aren’t being taken advantage of, you always have to watch out that you aren’t taking advantage as well, whether you want to or not. I fall under that category, as I was once in love with this woman and going to spend the rest of my life with her. We would talk about love and forever and all of the wonderful things that would happen … la dee da dee da … It was my fairytale, and she aided me into it … I too went out there to see, her, and we had a wonderful weekend, and all was great, and I came back, and a week later it ended. We skipped the booze and the suicide though, so I guess it wasn’t that bad.

I never talk about it by the way, because I thought it wasn’t right to talk about the whole thing because in all reality, in my circles I WAS the bad person, in the eyes of many. I felt it was necessary to allow her to go on with her life, without any of my words coming out to haunt her. Sure I have hinted to some of it all in past blogs, but never totally honestly. I reserved the right to “omit” anything that I could get away with. Well until today, because it is absolutely killing me, and I am sorry that it has to be done. Despite all of the hurt, and pain, and scorn that she proclaimed when we broke up, SHE HAD DUMPED ME! The problem was, I accepted it, when it happened, and like most relationships I was supposed to simply brush it off and come back in a few days. I saw it for what it was, and although it hurts to say this … she never loved me, I was just an outlet for her pain and confusion. I was the escape that she so desperately wanted from reality, and she was definitely that for me, as well. The AA code of ethics stated that I should have been strong, and just avoided the attention, and been a martyr in the whole thing, and I just wasn’t, because I am fuckin’ weak. A pathetic love addict, and it took a really sick fuckin’ relationship after her to realize that, but I did, and I came back around to the fuckin’ FOBW rooms, and her and I became friends. Very good friends, and in me she confided the dirty little secret, that her and him had been together since days after her and I were over. The truth of the matter is this … I BLAMED ME for her being with that sick fuckin’ asshole, that lied to her and treated her like shit. I had the gall to actually think that it was because I left her {as her mind ended up looking at it} that she was driven to something that no woman on Earth should ever have to be with. I am not that powerful, I am just a piece on the chessboard. I am probably not even one of the ones who does any of the cool moves either. One step forward, jump diagonally one space.

The reality is that I never had to be involved with this whole process, she would have found the right man to ruin her, and he would have found the right victim for his fantasy world, where he pretends to be a millionaire. They were made for each other, and it is my own self abusive behavior that is telling me that I should have known better. I endured every bit of it out of guilt. I tried to get this message across to both of them daily. I was pointed at as a jealous ex, a nosey bastard, and a hopeless do-gooder. Once in a while I was given credit as someone who actually cared, but that meant nothing. Then we all endured all of the heartache, of a woman who lost her Harlequin romance novel, many would point out that the lie was over … move on. I was still forced to hear both ends of them as it was coming back together very quickly, and I saw the crash at the end. I stood there impotent, I was just a witness to a very slow train wreck, and what saddens me, is that this shit is going to happen again. I care too much, and as I sit here waiting for my girlfriend to show up {yes another one of those people I should fuckin’ know better about … second times the charm huh?}, I am writing this to let you all know who I am, and why I care.

My name is Jeremy, and I am an alcoholic, I have tried to kill myself 3 times {twice, stone cold sober}, and I am a raging love addict, as I have spent every day I have been alive desperately trying to find someone who loves me … my parents never did … I married women who cheated on me, like I never existed … I ran away from all of my problems … and until NOW … these were usually the qualities I shared with the women in my life. Pretty fuckin’ sick huh?

Several months ago I accepted a lot of these things, and I turned them over to God, and in an epiphany, I realized that the only person I needed love from was myself and God … period! Through that I have gained a perspective of love for every human being on Earth, regardless of whether they are an ex .. a present .. or someone looking to take advantage of them. I can love a total stranger today, and I pity people who think that is strange. I love them too though. When I say Love Ya Mean It … I Love Ya Mean It. Today, as I am finishing up writing this, I realized that I don’t have to feel guilty about anything, and I will simply love these people even though they hate themselves. ;8o)