I have stopped, finally, the urge to write to him. I think I'm finally at the point of wanting time for myself, to digest and to accommodate the data I have received recently. One single data point, that really changed my view of this relationship forever. A Sunday ago, none of this existed, a week later, everything has changed.
The vision of growing old together, me taking care of him, that northern night, evening walks on snow covered path, that vision that seemed to have forever etched in my head, that one future that I could not begin to imagine to alter, is disappearing. It now looks like a melted snowman, dripping in water, the carrot that made the nose, half fallen, the sticks that made the arms, lying on the ground, the scarf that was wrapped around the snowman's neck, now the only thing that remain intact, though it has now been stumped on, near the last bit of ice that was once a handsome snowman.
That vision of future was disappearing faster than I could imagine, that vision of him and I, together at last, was becoming more of an abstract painting, he was leaving me, and I must leave him before it destroys me. There was never any future, never any promised exchanged hands, it was just a mirage, an illusion, a self-soothing binky.
What if, what if he was never who he said that he was, what if, what if the only thing that was true was when he said, "Don't leave your husband and to be with me, you would be disappointed". What if, what if by adding and accommodating the new fact, I must go back to the last three years, and recount every single event, and find those holes in his story and then try to assimilate everything again? What if none of what we had was ever true, and everything was just a lie? What if he never intended to proceed with this, other than some empty promises, endless lies and his occasional lust for me? And if so, why did all of this feel so real? Why did he make me feel so loved? I'm not a high schooler any more, I don't have crushes. I develop meaningful relationships with people who deserve my attention, I follow my gut instincts, and yet with him, my gut instincts were rather confused.
What if he already had a family? What if he was cheating behind his back by being with me? What if his child, children's mother, loves him and expects them to be together like a family for the rest of their lives, what if he is well on his way to become that father to their children, and husband and lover to her? What if he wanted nothing from me. What if he was only trying to hide everything so that I could continue to be at his backing call, to be his sexual being?
I found myself retreating. I found myself wanting to bail yet again. But if I retreat, and stop loving him, then the whole thing would come to a natural end.
He and I will be no more.
The vision of growing old together, me taking care of him, that northern night, evening walks on snow covered path, that vision that seemed to have forever etched in my head, that one future that I could not begin to imagine to alter, is disappearing. It now looks like a melted snowman, dripping in water, the carrot that made the nose, half fallen, the sticks that made the arms, lying on the ground, the scarf that was wrapped around the snowman's neck, now the only thing that remain intact, though it has now been stumped on, near the last bit of ice that was once a handsome snowman.
That vision of future was disappearing faster than I could imagine, that vision of him and I, together at last, was becoming more of an abstract painting, he was leaving me, and I must leave him before it destroys me. There was never any future, never any promised exchanged hands, it was just a mirage, an illusion, a self-soothing binky.
What if, what if he was never who he said that he was, what if, what if the only thing that was true was when he said, "Don't leave your husband and to be with me, you would be disappointed". What if, what if by adding and accommodating the new fact, I must go back to the last three years, and recount every single event, and find those holes in his story and then try to assimilate everything again? What if none of what we had was ever true, and everything was just a lie? What if he never intended to proceed with this, other than some empty promises, endless lies and his occasional lust for me? And if so, why did all of this feel so real? Why did he make me feel so loved? I'm not a high schooler any more, I don't have crushes. I develop meaningful relationships with people who deserve my attention, I follow my gut instincts, and yet with him, my gut instincts were rather confused.
What if he already had a family? What if he was cheating behind his back by being with me? What if his child, children's mother, loves him and expects them to be together like a family for the rest of their lives, what if he is well on his way to become that father to their children, and husband and lover to her? What if he wanted nothing from me. What if he was only trying to hide everything so that I could continue to be at his backing call, to be his sexual being?
I found myself retreating. I found myself wanting to bail yet again. But if I retreat, and stop loving him, then the whole thing would come to a natural end.
He and I will be no more.
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