To be honest, I thought about it very little on Monday and Tuesday I sent him the same text message I sent a dozen other people apologizing for my phone being off and letting them all know it was back on. Nothing. I thought that was odd, that he didn't call back, but it was late so I went to sleep. Then Wednesday, I dropped the girls off at gymnastics and was at the store when I got a call from a friend. This friend informed me that Mr. I's girlfriend was telling the people that we work with that he and I had been sleeping together. It was also mentioned that she had broken into Mr. I's email account and seen all of the emails I had sent him. (NONE of which said anything about any of our -ahem- nights together.)
I was just shocked for the next few hours. I mean the fact that everything that had happened between he and I for the last fourteen months, all the secrets and lies, it was all done, out in the open. Honestly, I was relieved. No more sneaking around, no more feeling like a shitty person because I am the chic that is banging her boyfriend. That was it, finished. This was followed quite quickly by the tiniest little bit of excitement. I mean, if she knows that he and I have been sleeping together for the entirety of their relationship, surely she is going to break up with him. I mean, how can he talk his way out of this one? And why would he even want to?
Then it hit me... oh. my. god. He might actually want to. He may try to talk his way out of this, throw a couple more lies onto the fire that keeps their relationship from going out. But no, logically, no one would want to do that. I mean, isn't this his out [notice my delusion here]? Now he is free to leave, she won't want to stay with him and why would he fight to keep something that is so seemingly dead alive? Well, DUH Kate, why would either of them do anything that made any sense at all?
I put it in the back of my mind. No obsessing. Whatever happens, will happen, whether I freak out about it or not. I secretly crossed my fingers that he was going to call me and tell me that it was all over. Fortunately for me, Thursday, I had an Internet Conference in San Antonio and couldn't think about it much. I didn't get back to the dealership until two and had enough work to do to keep me busy until five when I left. So, Friday, when I got there, I was curious to see if anything had changed, if the gossip mill had managed to spread the rumors around my workplace enough that they would find their way to my department. But, nothing. I probed some and had a few others poke around to see if anyone was talking and no one was. How fucked up is that? All three people in our little love triangle work at the same place with around a hundred employees and NO ONE IS TALKING? Wow.
So, at almost twelve I went out side to the picnic table behind our building for a cigarette. I went out on purpose because that picnic table overlooks the employee parking lot and I can see both Mr. I and his girlfriend's car from the table. A few minutes later, Jiffinner and The Cake Lady came out and sat down with me. I admitted that I was out there to see if Mr. I and his girlfriend left together and she just looked at me and said "I know." How transparent I must have been, perfectly torn in two. Half of me excited at the prospect of finally having a shot at the guy for whom I have had feelings for the last year, the other half of me panicking because if this doesn't end them, what the hell will? I couldn't even sit still waiting for them. And then I saw him, walking across the parking lot, towards his car. He's alone. Is this possible? A few seconds later, I realized it was not. She walked up beside him and they got into her car and left. And the last few drops of hope I had left vanished.
In that instant, I wished so badly that I were alone. That two of my closest friends weren't sitting there watching my face fall. I didn't cry, if that means anything. They did their civic friend duty and bashed him appropriately to lighten my mood and then we all went back inside.
My plan was to come home, break into my wine and feel sorry for myself for the whole weekend. I was going to watch every episode of Law & Order I had recorded and then every movie I had recorded last weekend when HBO was free, starting with Contact so I could drool over Matthew McConaughey. I was going to eat everything in my house with the word "chocolate" written anywhere on it's packaging and I was not going to take off my pajamas all weekend. That'll show him, right? lol
Anyway, that plan? Totally shot to hell and back because I was babysitting Fairy's lovely two year old son. Any plans for sitting down, period, were laughable. Instead, I did what I do best when I am heartbroken, I cleaned. I rearranged the furniture in my kitchen, scrubbed my toaster and moved everything in the entire room and cleaned under it. I cleaned my microwave and my coffee pot and bleached my floors. I did all the laundry and then I rearranged my room. I moved everything from one side to the other. I like it better that way. And after Fairy's mom picked her grandson up, I cleaned the girls' room. I listened to Jack Johnson all weekend. Today, I was so busy that I didn't smoke a single cigarette. The entire bottle of wine is still in my fridge.
What have I concluded? Well, I am pissed. I am pissed because cleaning my house wasn't the closure that I wanted and there isn't anything I can do about it. I have promised myself that I won't call him. He had every opportunity to call me and he chose not to. I have to just back away. I have decided that it isn't fair. But I guess the delusion that I was living in where everyone gets that Nora Roberts ending for their love life is flat out bullshit. I am disappointed. I am disappointed in him because I thought he was better that this by about two million times and I am disappointed in myself for having such shitty instincts.
I don't know why I am surprised, I mean, the last two guys I was in love with were the furthest thing from being prizes. I thought he was different, I thought that he genuinely cared about me. Or maybe I thought I cared enough for both of us. Who knows? If the past is any sort of predictor, then I will understand all of this in about two months.
The bottom line? I am mad at him for just cutting me out, no words, nothing. Just his back walking away and me asking what the hell happened to any of the bystanders that might have caught a glimpse of this entire train wreck. I laid in bed hoping he would call or come over and he did neither. I can't keep on holding on to this rope waiting for him to come let me down.
So, I guess it is over. Based on my utter lack of communication with him, I have to assume that he is through with "us". I am mad at myself for being so gullible and for believing that he kept coming back to me because he cared and not just because he wanted a piece of ass.
I have thought about this ad nauseum this weekend. I can't come to any kind of anything. I guess there is a first time for everything and this is the first time I have ever been in this type of situation and the first time I have ever had this type of outcome from a relationship or pseudo relationship. There is a first time for everything.
For the first time, readers, I have been dumped. Thoroughly and completely kicked to the curb. Mark your calendars, this is a memorable occasion. It may be declared a holiday later and you can all say “hey, I knew her!”
Labels: Being a Chic, Mr. I, My pathetic excuse for a love life
