Way I wanted to
Where I want to go
I don’t need you
I’ve been down this road
Too many times before
I’m not lovin’ you
Way I wanted to
I've had three solid days of pretty limited interruptions in which to contemplate the conversation with Mr.I last week. I talked to Snow, The Cake Lady, Jiffinner and Fairy - all of whom remember, pretty clearly, the entire Saga that was Mr.I. And I've also had time to evaluate as much of the phone call as I can remember and you know, it was pretty typical Mr.I stuff.
Does this mean he doesn't genuinely care about me? Of course not, I do believe that he cares about me, maybe even loves me. But not in a way that I need. Not in a real, forever way.
And the thing is, it is easy to forget it all. All of the pain and heartache and drama. It is especially easy to remember when someone is standing in front of you offering you love. Add to that the fact that you've been alone for such a fucking long time and you have a hard time getting your bearings. So thank you katehopeeden from a few years ago for writing it all down.
Maybe (a few posts ago) I was totally wrong about the being lonely. I'd much rather be lonely than be here. I hate being somewhere where I can and am being hurt. Give me single any day as opposed to pain.
I went back and reread a bunch of posts I had written about him. Trying to remember whether or not it was as bad as all of my friends were reminding me that it was.
The last time I made the mistake of sleeping with him, he didn't call for three days. When he finally did call, I mentioned this and he said he had felt guilty... In my dumb ass assumption, I thought that the guilt he was feeling involved me, at least partially... it didn't. So, here we go again... Round and round on this self depreciating merry-go-round...
The first couple of posts I read were like a kick in the gut. I mean, how could I have written all of this, experienced all of this and now consider getting back into something with him. How could I justify that?
Then he says it. He says that one thing that solidifies my position as officially being (gag) the other woman. He tells me (almost verbatim here guys) that I am his escape from everything. That he needs to see me to escape from his life. Sit back down, Kate. No. No, you did not just say that to me. You did not just tell me that I am just the other girl. No. No. No. Ahhhh, but yes, yes he did. Yes I am. Where’s that scarlet letter?
Fuck.
And then, since this is my honesty place, I tried to rationalize the fact that I was even entertaining the idea of considering him as a viable partner. I thought it's in the past, Kate - maybe he is a different person now. In my mind, I was conjuring up fantasies of him breaking up with his current chic because he just couldn't stand us not being together anymore.
The thing that I hate about Mr. I is that he doesn't follow any of the rules that I have so painstakingly learned through all of my relationships with men. When he calls me 25 times a day, it doesn't mean he can't stop thinking about me. When he and I sleep together after six weeks of not having seen each other and he tells me that he 'missed this', it doesn't mean anything. When he looks at me like he can see exactly what I am feeling, it doesn't mean anything. When he knows what I am thinking without my having even mentioned it, it doesn't mean anything. And finally, when he calls me at 2am just to talk, it doesn't mean anything.
But he didn't call or email or text me. He didn't do anything, just as he has never done anything. And I am so very grateful for it. Because, dear reader, I was mere nanoseconds from jumping on that ride before I could consider all of the pros and cons of it all. Because the thought of being with someone was so powerful that it took away my ability to think it all through - as those types of feelings are prone to doing. But now, I've had a chance to really think about it, really reflect on the possibilities of it all.
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.
And the fact is, my choices in boys may not be the best, but I do know, deep down when something isn't right, isn't going to work. And while I have a tendency to be a little over imaginative and optimistic all at the same time, I need to trust my gut. I need to trust that when I don't see Forever with someone, that that is because there isn't a Forever with them. Not because I am Damaged Girl.
Mr. I is a perfect example of this particular dating trend. Tempest told me flat out, two weeks in, that the only reason I wanted him was because I couldn't have him. And if he were to want me, I would be gone in a blink of an eye. Well, if the past if proof, she is right. Some little neuron in my brain is set to 'flee mode' as soon as anything serious is presented.
I'd like to think that it is gut reaction or that I just know that it isn't what I really want or that it wouldn't work out. Of course, that brings up questions like: Why am I dating them in the first place? Am I setting myself up for failure? Do I not really want anything serious anyway?
The reasons he and I didn't work before had next to nothing to do with his girlfriend, my inability to have children with him or any of the other freakin' shitload of reasons I used to ignore the real facts. The reason we didn't work out is because we aren't supposed to. He isn't The One for me. He isn't my First Date Flower Guy. He isn't Forever. He never was.
I believed the best of Mr. I. I truly, deep down thought that he and I carried with us a special bond in our friendship that could survive the razing of our intimacy. Seemingly I was wrong.
And the fact of the matter is that we can't be friends. We're too explosive for that. It's time to permanently let him go. Deleting him from my phone, my computer, my life.
I’m not lovin’ you
Way I wanted to
I can’t keep my cool
So I keep it true
I got something to lose
So I gotta move
I can’t keep myself
And still keep you too
Labels: Mr. I, My pathetic excuse for a love life
