He sent me a text message yesterday afternoon.
“Hi. May I come by after work and see Maya?” (My American Bulldog, who is struggling with his absence. He didn’t even mention our other dog Maggie.)
My friend Cheryl was here with me (because she’s awesome), since I was having a really hard time, being the first full day since he left and all.
“What should I say back? I can’t see him today, I just can’t.”
“Tell him no, not today.”
He responded a few minutes later, a simple okay.
My daughter has been sick these last few days, so if she isn’t at work, she’s been in her bedroom sleeping. I have a handful of friends that I could reach out to, but so far I have stayed pretty much to myself.
During my nap today, I had a bad dream which ended with him telling me that he didn’t love me anymore, that his love for me has turned into dust.
I have to admit, I had a weak moment. I texted him back this afternoon, hoping for what, I have no idea.
“Did you still want to see the dogs?”
“I do…possibly tomorrow?”
“You’ve already replaced me, huh?” (He won’t tell me where he’s staying.)
“No, I just have stuff to do. If not tomorrow, then on Saturday when I come to put my belongings in the garage.”
“That’s fine. I’m glad that you’re doing well.” (Not really.)
“It’s just one day at a time.”
My mom says that he’s still fucking with my head. His elusiveness as to his whereabouts is him trying to make me wonder if he’s staying with a woman or at least seeing one already. He ultimately needs someone to take care of him.
I couldn’t imagine myself going out on a date or having relations with someone right now.
I finally texted back, because I’ve always liked to have the last word.
“You’ll be much happier.”
I can’t show him any more of my pain or suffering, I think it feeds him somehow. I know that my first ex got off on hurting me and making me cry. I’m starting to think that he also secretly enjoys causing me emotional turmoil, perhaps it makes him feel like a real man, to hold the cards and deal them out as he sees fit.
I want him to believe that I’m doing great right now, even though I’m having mini anxiety attacks. I’m trying to take all of the great advice from everyone. I know that this is a process and that eventually, I’ll be better off.
I told my mom I wished that none of this had ever happened.
“Mer, IT DID.”
Yes, mom. It did.
And there ain’t nothing that I can fucking do about it but endure and try like hell not to bite when he tries to go fishing in my head again.