Renewed

I knew exactly what happened. With my prior relationships. I took them too seriously and operated them as if they were real ones. I was with men who were too old too stubborn too set in their ways. I should have been with much younger men, men who did not see me as a threat, who did not treat me with disrespect, who were more accomplished and more grown up. Men who were able to get married and otherwise fine in their different aspects of their lives.

I was beginning to wonder what I went wrong. What went wrong was that I started to treat these fringe relationships as if I was entering real relationships. I gave in and I also was not compatible with them. 

I cared too much, I was too interested in their lives, I was too vested in their business and I was a little too demanding of their time. It should have been more casual, more sexual, and less emotional.

I should never stayed at their places, I should never had any email communication with them, I should never indulged their fantasies. But at the same time, I should never gotten involved with men who were controlling and who were not good with relationships.

A perfect side relationship is like this:

With a married, successful, intellectual, younger man.

Do not plan on any dates.

Email sparely. Email or text only if you plan to meet up.

Has synchronicity.  Can be friends even when sexual conduct ends.

Has mutual respect and boundaries are set before the relationship starts.

Make mutual effort to see each other on a semi regular basis.

Has the same type of career path - executives. In the same tech industry. Has a sense of himself. Likes you as if you are his equal. Raised by good families, preferably a professor's son. In a happy marriage. Loves his wife. Respects her and do not ever want to leave her.

Create opportunities with you to have a good time. But do not treat it seriously. Well traveled and successful financially.

Tall. Has to be tall. Tall men are great because they are naturally confident.

Young. Has to be younger than you. Younger men are great because they last forever in bed and they are self confident.

Do not ever have any expectations.

Treat the relationship as if this is the last time you'd meet and ask yourself, what if he leaves? The answer should always be this: It's OK, your life will not be impacted.

Don't ever force yourself. If your gut tells you it's not alright, the person is either not in it or if the person is sort of in it but not sure about it, it's time to move on.

Follow your inner voice. Does it tell you to stop? If you hear it. Stop it. Does it tell you not to stop? If you hear it, continue.

Find someone who likes you more than you like him. You must never forget to do that. He should remember your jokes, your stories. You should not have to feel that you should remember his. He's not nearly as important to you.

I wish that I could write this to B: Dear B, I wish that we could just have good sex and nothing else. I wish that we could meet on occasion, have great sex, and never feel obligated to write to each other in between our absence. I wish you could know what I feel today, which is I really do not want to have more than great sex. I wish that you know that I know what I didn't know before:that is, I wish we never did all those email exchanges in between our visits. I wish that we kept it casual, fun and not serious and taxing. I truly wish that we never got so intense and so emotional. I wish that you had never told me that you loved me, and wanted me to be with you. I wish that when you said goodbye you could just say, "See you around." or make a lunch date and we just have food and not fucking. I wish that we could be friends. But since you'd never be my friend and only wanted me when you wanted me, it's too bad that we could no longer have fun any more. I would never know what you wanted or how you felt, but I knew that I should have left before I felt anything. P.S. It was more fun when you and I were more casual, at the beginning. I would still fuck you, down the road, maybe, but I can't be emotionally involved with you, it was a complete waste of my time. Sex was fun though. I miss that more than I miss you.

I wish that I could write this to C: Dear C, I'm sorry that I used you to get over B. I was never really into you, I should not have talked myself into thinking that maybe one day I could grow to like you. Sex was marginally OK. I used to lie on my back and think about B when you fucked me. You were never really that interesting or funny. I only put up with you so that I could have sex with you. Even though I was bored out of my mind half of the time. Your only redeeming value is that you know how to cook limited dishes. They were good and they were fine but I really would rather be eating out because I'm a true foodie. You were so set in your own ways I would go crazy if you were really in my life. One day I might consider being a friend to you, but not being in contact makes me feel that I was so relieved and so happy that you were out of my life. Would I still come and visit you? I don't know. Right now I just need distance and right now I really just would rather never to see you again. You kind of bored me. I am so not into boring men. Enjoy your meaningless life and your insecurities.

Have I learned anything at all? Yes I did. I learned that I like men who like me and who do not expect things out of me. I like men who were easy going and do not create false expectations.

I also learned that I do not want my life to be complicated and full of problematic men. They sort of sucked the living lights out of me.

I am going to focus on friendship, work, family, and activities going forward.

I'm going to be renewed.

I'm going to be fine.

Bored, exhausted, devastated

Devastated.

Sick.

Exhausted.

Bored.

Nothing to look forward to.

Every day is like another day.

This is the end of my journey.

Every day from now until the end will be nothing but mundane day to day.

Only thoughts I had was when I first felt something, it was August 2011.

Two years ago.

A came into my life.

Has not left. Though I've not seen him since the last meeting we had in early September 2011.

A still im's me on FB.

A never left. Found me after I've been dodging him for twelve years.

A is the same age as B. Went to the same graduate school program. A is 6'4". Blue blood.

A found a woman who was from my city. A came here to visit often. I hope never to run into A.

A still has the same attachment as my real ex does.

I don't know why but tall men like me more than I like them.

A said that the sex was great.

I said, what, I thought it was awful. I couldn't remember a thing. I am certain I won't remember much about B or C in two years of time, or D or E.

A tried to lecture me just like my ex who's 6'3" did.

I kind of want to punch A.

A wanted to see me and then he got weird on me, so I bailed, by telling him to fuck off. He said that I disappeared on him. Just like fourteen years ago.

Why did A try to turn it around on me?

B really did not give a shit.

B was the real asshole.

By transference I think of C as an asshole. Both 5'10".

Short men in my world are always assholes. Tall men tend to want to protect me. Think that I should be theirs. I don't know why.

A and my real ex from the east coast. Both tall. Both think I was fantastic and beautiful but also like to lecture me. I tend to talk to them whenever I'm down.

Then my friend N. Who's tall and from New England. But I will never have sex with N. I will never have sex with anyone, again. Period.

A tried to pin it on me. He was the one who left me. I think. Wait, no, I was the one who left him.

A was always so demanding. Talked to me every day on google chat. Just like he used to do on AOL chat. Tried to bully me. Got upset with me. I told him to fuck off. Then he came back.

I think I'll email C and tell him officially to fuck off. But then it would be like me wanting to talk to C. I have no interest in C. To ever ever engage him. I was bored of him.

I think some men just need to be told off. But then I have no energy to do such things. He was not worth my energy.

I was wondering if I went to B because I was upset with A and then went to C because I was upset with B. I think I am the common denominator. I am the problem. I should never stir up stuff. I need to get rid of the old me.

I am going to be good from now on. No more sexual discussions, no more seduction. No more treating men like they were my conquests.

I should stop.

Great. Now I'm losing weight and becoming skinny and more attractive.

And I'm alone. No men. No sex. No nothing.

Just work, then family.

Just fabulous.

But it has to be done. I have to learn to be alone and lover-less. I have to take a hard reset and create yet another version of me. This version of me is pure, innocent, smart, sassy and sexually non-promiscuous. This version of me is no longer on the hunt. This version of me requires no maintenance. This version of me will not love another but herself. This version of me is boring but it's the only way to survive the rest of my life. I have stopped longing. I have no rights, no energy to long for another. I must preserve myself and tend my own garden.

This is really a new beginning. This is the end.

And a beginning. 

2nd Day - How's your heart?

Up. Work meetings. Sunday morning.

Dressed. Out of the door. Picked up a friend. Then drove to Stern Grove.

Met up with some friends.

All day dancing, singing and drinking and having fun in the front lawn. Primal spot.

Pink Martini.

With friends and family and I was having fun.

Sun tanned. Happy. Danced until my feet hurt.

Drove to Richmond to see a girlfriend and her daughter after.

Met her through C.

On the way over, phone rang. It was 650 area code. I did not recognize it. So I answered.

It was C. C called from work. I had not talked to him since Friday. Told him that I deleted his phone numbers and did not recognize it, thus I answered by saying my name and did not recognize who this call was from.

C seemed shocked. He said, "You deleted my numbers?"

I had also deleted B's number. I no longer carry anyone's number in my phone.

It was the only way to erase them out of my memories. They no longer existed. They could not exist. They have ceased to exist because I cannot allow them to break my heart or hurt my feelings or treat me like that I'm someone they had control over with.

I informed C that I was with my son. Because I did not want to tell him too much or for him to say anything that would incriminate me in front of my son.

C told me that he had been at work since Sat afternoon, and that he may be able to sleep in his own bed tonight. I told him that I was taking my son to see our mutual friend in Richmond.

He said to say hi to her.

I said that I will.

He seemed to want to end the call after telling me what he was up to.

He wanted to get off the call because there was no indication that I was still interested in seeing him tonight. I had not expected him to call at all. I expected that he'd disappear and I'd disappear and we would have no problems.

He was still stuck in that mode of sharing his life with me. Telling me about his life and his day. I realized that perhaps he had developed emotions for me, and that it was all along too intense for him. He couldn't possibly respect, like and adore me and then have physical needs for me. I cannot possibly be both, it threw his balance off.

I can't be both to him, I don't want to be neither to him. I want him to stop bugging me and stop calling me but instead I said, "I can't talk right now. If you want to call me some other time, tomorrow or something, go ahead."

But I know not to pick up his calls. Even though his numbers have been erased, I do not want him to call. But I didn't want to sound like a jerk.

I also need to retrieve things from C. I also need to retrieve things from B. But B can wait. B is long gone. C is still fresh.

I was angry with C. I was sad with B.

I don't want to be with C. He was never really my type. I manufactured emotions for C but at the end of the day I couldn't tolerate anything from him.

I also don't want to be with anyone, any more. I just want to be with me and my friends.  I don't know how C feels but I honestly do not care.

If he expects me to email or call, he's sadly mistaken. I may run into him from time to time because his friends are now mine, but I will not be making any more connection with him or engage him or trying to talk to him.

What I really want to tell him is to fuck off. Get out of my life. I don't need you. I don't need anyone. If you can't handle your own intensity towards me, it's your freaking problem. I can't stop being me. I am no longer someone's doormat, someone's punching bag, or someone's problem to resolve.

If you think that I'm Asian, and therefore subservient, kind and generous and can put up with bullshit, think again.

You have not met this person yet. You can't handle this version of me.

I don't want you, any one of you.

I'm done. and I'm going to be good, clean, and wholesome again.

At what expense? Yes sexually I have to shut me off, put that sexually adventurous, perverse, kinky side of me in a box. Sealed off, and shipped away.

I must learn to live with all my regrets, longing, and sorrow, I must learn to deal with this unsatisfied desires, until the end of the day.

Because I need to be good, and wholesome. Until my heart stops bleeding. And then I want to swallow the forgetting pills, And leave this era permanently, behind.

Reflection

Too soon to reflect. But sometimes an ending is desperately needed. We all need to move on.

I had not realized that this replacement, C would mean anything to me, and in the process of trying to get him to replace B, I had developed genuine feelings for him. Except that I couldn't tolerate him. He could not make any mistakes, have any different thoughts, and really he could not have met my needs in the long term. His weakness was always magnified, his mishap was intolerable, and his views, his thoughts and his way of living, bored me, disgusted me and frankly burdened me.

C was a replacement, and I had to psych myself to be with him. I thought that I could, and I tried to put on a persona so that I could be in it, physically and emotionally I tried.

In the end I couldn't. I had been so relieved when he wanted to stay in touch with me, wanted to be friends with me, and wanted to hang out with me.

Because I felt that in a way I had the upper hand, I hated losing. I hated being the one who was left out. But I also knew that was the best way to exit, to leave while he was still wrapped up in this, I left, and the way I left was simple, I had planned to go out with him at a time and date, and then I just disappeared. I planned the exit and disappeared.

I planned no response, I deleted his phone numbers, and I erased everything about him. It was really that easy. It was like he never existed. He would not be hearing from me. He would not be receiving any more communication from me, he would perhaps wonder what happened to me, but he would not be hearing from me.

At the root of all this, he felt insecure, I felt it. I felt his fear, he said that he was scared, it was getting too intense, and he had to go into retreat mode. I thought that was interesting, how could he call it intense? I felt nothing. I was simply here and there, and I was not making any demands. If he felt that my existence in his life made him feel something, anything at all, it would be crime? How come I did not feel any intensity at all? Was my state of being scared him so? How could I be the person who received no intensity at all? He had talked to me, emailed me and engaged me, and even demanded my presence, and then said it was too intense for him. It was strange in so many levels. I had realized that perhaps I had taken this for granted, and I had not seen that my strength, my state of being scared him, made him feel things he should not feel, and he had to go to a place where his feeling was not stirred up and he was safe in his own shell.

I couldn't understand why it could be intense. The only intensity that I ever felt was my feeling for my ex. I had never felt anything for anyone else. It was all just simulated motions. I couldn't comprehend these feelings these men claimed that they felt. He wanted me in his life, but he couldn't possibly stop feeling the intensity. He tried to do something about it, without any regard of my own feelings. I wanted friendship but only if the intention was pure. These conflicting signals made me feel rather - enraged.

I did not need him telling me that he was feeling intense, and that my presence of being in his life threw the balance off. He wanted me but he can't have me and he can't let me go. The guy needed to figure that shit out. I had no intention to be serious, and I could not feel the intensity. It felt mundane, a little boring and even a bit uneventful.

He wanted to know every details of my life, and he was careful not to mention my spouse in his construct. It was my children and me. He wanted to believe that I was only for him. But I was not. I told him about my ex, my relationship with him, and I told him about everyone I was involved with in the past, and that also scared him. He wanted me, he admired me, and he was conflicted about his feelings for me. He wanted me in his life but not so much to stir up the intensity.

To that I said, good, I'm out. I'm out and I don't want to be part of that.

I had only loved one person who did not love me back in the end. I had only lived in one fantasy life and the rest was just side notes.

I had only needed one thing and no one but he provided that.

He was gone. Long gone.

No one needed to replace him in the end. No one could.

I had therefore decided that upon reflection, he must go too. He had to go.

I erased his phone numbers.

I deleted his photos. emails and address.

He no longer existed.

He was gone. I was no longer part of his life.

I would offer no explanation.

I felt, strangely relieved.

In the end, he meant nothing to me. I couldn't wait to find a reason to rid of him.

In the end, my sorrow remained with my relationship with my ex.

In the very end, I had concluded that this was exactly what I had meant to do, to rid of the last person in my life so that I could start afresh.

I must move onto the next stage of my life. I shall remain loverless and I shall find meaning in life outside of my sexual intrigue.

It would be hard, but it must happen.

I must learn to be me again. This me required no affirmation from anyone. This me needed to grow up. Once for all. 

End of an era

So it ended.

Just like that. Everything ended.

I don't know why but part of me felt hollow and part of me felt that this was the reset I needed.

Past, wiped out. Experiences, gained. Reality, checked.

I had constantly been seeking for that elusive thing called love. I wanted love so bad, I wanted to be loved so bad that I sometimes mistake infatuation with love, I wanted sex so that it could be interpreted as love. But love had disappeared.

Love was never there to begin with. I manufactured these emotions so that I could escape the mundane and sort of feel something.

Anything.

And when that ended, it seemed the world had no meaning and the world had no purpose. It was as if I had no where to turn and no one to speak with.

I brought it all onto myself.

I closed the curtains and curled in bed. I didn't want to wake up because I had no reason to get up.

I am a very sexual being but I have no one  I care to sleep with.

To that end, I have failed miserably.

But I brought it onto myself. I did not and should not and could not love. I couldn't because I was never in a position to love. And if I can't have love then I should not be sleeping with anyone who is not deserving of my attention. I'm done whoring around.

I was selfish and coward, and I was generous and brave.

I gave so much so early on, that it burned out.

Then I just went into retreat. I couldn't have everything so I would give up everything.

He said, "Can we still hang out on Sunday?" I have no answer to that question. Because my answer would have been, "No. and I'll never see you ever again. Please do not try to contact me."

He was the last one I had to excavate out of, escape from.

I did not have an answer for him. I couldn't afford an answer. I felt like screaming. I felt like the world was turned upside down. I used him to get over someone. I got over that person, but I couldn't possible be with anyone else without always thinking back to my ex.

A disturbing, turbulent, unconventional, fuck buddy turned lover turned someone I fell in love with.

I didn't and could not and will not love another.

I couldn't be this walking zombie and expect things would get better. It would not. I was hollow inside.

I tried to put on a brave face. But my heart was not in it. I was simply bouncing from one person to another to try to find something. Anything. I found nothing.

Wasted time. Wasted energy. Wasted everything.

Experiences that meant nothing. Faces no longer mean anything. People no longer mattered. Just one person from another, sex, meaningless sex. Empty hollow inside. Emotions manufactured and self realization was just an excuse to try to justify my actions. I have been a phony. I had a facade to maintain. But I was a shallow, hollow, damaged person inside.

Those were the gist of two years, only because I had tried this thing that is called love.I was regressing into my early 20s. Where I repeated the same patterns over different men. I caught a break in my mid twenties and everything was put to an end. I found myself doing that again. Professionally successful; personal life a mess, looking for love from those who were unable to give love, feeling unworthy, bored, and utterly unable to change my pattern.

Occasional inspirations found from one or two glimpses into someone's soul and we connected on occaion.

But the rest of it just felt forced. Everything. People. Events. Images.

I had written something to the last person I wanted to say goodbye to. It had been a good run. He was good for a purpose. I was not in the right space. I met him when I was trying to stop loving someone else. I met him when I was forcing myself to forget.

But here is the thing. We must move on. We must gather ourselves and get over what is needed to get over. And move on. We can't use others as crutches. We have to learn to face our own demons and resolve our own issues.

My determination is simple. I want to move on. I will move on. I will close this chapter for good. No more flings, affairs and other unnecessary headaches or heartaches. I have to move on.

I want this to be the end. An end to remember. And I shall live a clean, functional, real life from now on. This is the end.

I have to be me. I will shut down the sexual part of me, so that I could find the other wholesome side of me. This is the price I must pay. And I am ready to face the music.

The final goodbye

I had ordered you a birthday present, it's now en route to your office. I felt that you had purchased me gifts in the past, and had been rather generous with me, I wanted in some way to be even. I had gotten gift certificates to Harbin retreat for your Christmas, and I realized that you would never want to go away with me, so I felt that I owed you something.  I did not like to owe anyone anything. 

In my nearly two years of interaction with you, I had hoped for a few basic things: a weekend brunch, going out with you and meeting some of your friends, and finally, perhaps a day date, and an out of town trip. None of which was realized. I never thought that I'd hang on for so long, in hoping that day would come. I had wished for it so much so, that sometimes I turned those thoughts into vivid dreams and had thought they did already happen. For instance, I had in my head that we shared a cup of morning coffee on a Sunday, in your neighborhood cafe. That never happened. When did I become delusional? How could I be the person I had become? I've stuck around for two years for you, yet my most basic wish had not been realized, I had never gone to breakfast with you, never had coffee with you, never met any of your friends, never went out during broad day light, never had an overnight trip, never went away, NEVER EVER. And I finalized realized none of which was ever going to happen with me and you. 

I realized just recently that perhaps my fantasies were simply just fantasies and your intent was never more than just a quick lay. It's not easy for me to come to that conclusion, I had refused to feel that way because I thought that I was special. I couldn't imagine me being just one of your conquests, despite my cynical attitude and logical sense, I thought, that you had cared about me in some ways and in some capacity I meant something. I was not just some random bimbo, I had a professional life, I was worldly, smart, kind, generous, and I was pretty. I had never met a guy who had told me that he loved me, and wanted to be with me always, asking me to leave my family, and then simply disappeared, over and over again. NEVER, EVER.

When I had my second nervous breakdown back in early March, I went to see my therapist and she said that perhaps you did care in your own ways, and I started shaking and told her to stop. The only way to expunge you from my head was to believe that you never cared, and I meant nothing. I told her that. I stopped seeing her in part she was angry that I went back to you. I told her that you had an invisible pull and I couldn't escape even if I wanted to. 

I knew that you were terribly good at blocking any emotions. I was very attracted to that. Part of me felt that perhaps you did care, and part of me simply felt that I was being an idiot for believing that I meant something to you. I was at odds with the two parts of me, but I knew rationally you never did care. 

I had been seeing this guy. He's got a girlfriend whom he'd been involved with for a few years, on and off. He did not talk to her during the week, and he did not email her either. They'd make these quick arrangement so that he could see her and bang her on occasion. I asked why he was not more involved with her, like doing things and developing a real relationship by introducing her to his friends,etc., he said that he didn't want her to bug him too much, and it was taxing and difficult when dealing with her because "she starts to expect things out of me if I showed any sign of affection or allowed her into my life more. It gives her ideas that I wanted more when I did not." He didn't really want a relationship with her. Not a real one anyway. On the contrary, I had already met his friends on several occasions. He'd told them about me, ever since the beginning, including my circumstances.They had welcomed me into their worlds. They liked me despite of my circumstances. He was proud of me. He talked to me fairly regularly, on the phone or via emails. He and I argued about things, we did things on weekends or during week days, he controlled how often we saw each other, but it was not weeks or months. It was more or less once a week. In the much shorter period of our interaction, I told him about my past, and I showed him places I liked to visit, and music I liked to listen. We went to events and places. I had taken him to restaurants I used to eat at in Richmond, he was curious about my past, my life as a child, and he was open about sharing me his. He never bailed on any date, or events I set up, which you did frequently. 

When I saw his best friend at an event recently, he asked me if I had gone to sleep at 12, because he just assumed that I was sleeping over. I did not. I went to my own place. I knew then that he knew I was his friend's girl. I was talking to his female friend, who already welcomed me into her world, befriended me and asked me to join her at a music venue this week, and she said, "you know him in some ways more than I do." I asked him if he had told them about me, and he said, yes, everything. They knew of my circumstance, yet they still welcomed me into their world. They liked me. They talked to me, and they introduced me to his other friends, they genuinely accepted me. That was lovely. It was lovely because I meant something to him, important enough that I was being introduced to his friends, and that he wanted me around his friends. It never happened to us. You and I. You never wanted me to be seen in the broad day light. You were ashamed of me, You did not think I was worthy of your real life, your friendship and your circle of friends. You had no regard, no respect for me. Yet I waited, and put up with you, hoping that one day you'd see me for who I was really, and change your mind. I was tired of waiting. Finally I had enough. 

I realized that his treatment of me and his girlfriend was quite different. I felt that he and I could go on for a while, because he made me accessible to his friends and that meant that I was not just some chick he banged on occasion. 

I started to draw similarities between this woman's situation with him and my relationship with you. I began to realize that perhaps the reason I had never spent any substantial time with you, met your friends, or gone away with you for a day or a weekend, was because you simply did not like me that much. You liked me in your bedroom, alone, and you got tired after the sex was over, you never talked to me about your work, your life, or your travel. You never took my calls. You never asked me about my life. You didn't care for me to enter your real life, because you didn't really want me to be part of it.

Realizing that made it easier for me to move on from this relationship I had with you, which was secretive and marginalized. The devastating thing of it all, was how you lied to me. The lines you fed me, how much you loved me, how you wished that I could go away and be with you, how beautiful I was, how perfect we were for each other, every single line you fed me, you fed to others, it was the way for you to retain me, to keep me where you wanted, and it meant absolutely nothing, yet, having left the dating world 14 years ago, I had forgotten how treacherous the dating world was, and how deceitful men could be, you, could be.  I couldn't believe how much I believed it. You had never ever wanted me more than an occasional lay. 

That was really why I could never get hold you, speak to you, or have coffee with you. You never could see me as a friend. You could careless if I existed or not, I was a convenience to you. Why and how could you be so cruel? Why did you lie so much so often? Why did you treat me like a used rag? And more importantly, why did I put up with all of your bullshit?!

I know that you must have that person in your life, the person whom you are proud to show off to your world, the person whom you could talk to on the phone with and email with, the person whom you drank morning coffee with. It was never going to be me, and you never wanted me to find out. Just like this other man I started to see occasionally, while he did not mind me finding out about his other girlfriend, he had no intention for her to find me out, because she would "flip out". He said. I imagined you told your true girlfriend about me, and you guys would laugh, and she'd say to you, "Why haven't you told her about me?" And you'd say, "I was afraid that she'd flip out. I would just stop seeing her. She's not you, baby. I love you. She's some married woman with kids, she meant nothing." 

And you stopped with me. Just like that. You were gone.

Just like that, I was moving on.

I was appreciative of you. You taught me how to love again. I was no longer bitter or sad. I was happy that we'd crossed path, again. You taught me that I should stop listening to what men had to say to me, but observe what they did to me or for me. 

Never ever a brunch on a lazy Sunday morning. Never ever a proper photo of the two of us. Never ever a party where I was introduced to your friends. Never ever a short get away. Never ever a trip taken afar like we used to fifteen years ago. Never ever going to be another birthday celebrated or Valentine's Day or Christmas holiday. 

Never a future. Never snow covered path with northern lights, hand in hand. 

We could never have a future because we never had a present.

People told me that I was a desirable woman.  I could share a morning coffee with someone in a local cafe. I could meet his friends and their children. I could walk to Golden Gate Park on a sunny Saturday afternoon with him, hand in hand, I could take him to my favorite restaurant in Richmond, I could tell him my childhood stories. He would listen, and knew who I was behind the shell.

He would tell me that he used to do photography in the middle school, he would tell me his years spent in Boston as a college and graduate student, he would tell me about his childhood growing up with two sisters in the suburb of America,  he would tell me about his friends - Ken, Peter, Frank, Michael, Sarah and all those other people were up to, he would argue with me about a movie we saw together - I loved it, he hated it, he would tell me about the calls he got that day, from his dad and mom, and why his sister should give up her unrealistic expectation of finding a solid man, his trips made to other parts of the world. He would never tell me that he loved me. But every action he took, every moment he spent with me, would make me realize that perhaps he did, or could, possibly, in the future. And if he did not, it would be OK as well. I would not have cared that much. Because I would not have loved him. I should not give out my love so freely. I learned to protect myself, finally.

Eventually I would come to my senses, and realize why this final goodbye was warranted. Finally I'd understand why I should never ever see you again. You were not good for me. You were not good to me. I would realize that it was no longer worth it. I had loved you. You squandered my love and abused my trust. 

You never did care about me.

I meant absolutely nothing to you.

I needed not to be reborn this time. I needed not to be reinvented. I was always me.

And this was the final goodbye. 

C vs. B vs. Blue Jasmine

Sunday, ran a half marathon race. Worked a bit in the office and headed to see C. I saw him last night for sometime, but mostly I just spoke to his friends. He had an event. He has four close guy friends whom I've met. When I walked in with another guy friend of mine, one of his closest friends called me by my name. All of his friends, except for one, knew me already. And that made life a bit easier. They liked me. They knew my circumstance, they knew C liked me. I did not sleep much last night, went home at around midnight after the event, and was exhausted.

Once a week I saw C. C had a girlfriend whom he slept with once a week or so, and he did not talk to her at all. She was to C what I was to B. A booty caller. No emotional connection, bad history, and just like B did not want me to meet his friends, C did not want his girlfriend to meet his friends. Whereas I was allowed to meet his friends, and he was genuinely proud of me. He liked smart girls. I was more just someone he banged.

I was working while his friends hang around. They liked me also. They knew C liked me. His female friends liked me. I think they all thought that I had high energy and they were very inclusive of me, inviting me to events and such. That whole Chicken John / Artsy / Science, crew, the small world of San Francisco arts and performance crew. I was being folded in, slowly, I liked that. I had to.

B and I were over. This time, he cut the cord. It was the best thing for him, and I knew that it would be for me as well. He was never inclusive of me, he did not want me to be part of his broader life, and as much as I enjoyed being with him, I wanted more out of the relationship than he could have given me. He had a life without me, and I did not fit in, for whatever reason, he did not like me, and he did not want me to be part of his life. I thought that the fact that he finally disappeared meant that he had finally sorted out his stuff, he'd moved in with someone, he'd got someone more permanent, he was in another relationship now, and I was therefore, gone. I supposed that was how it would always end, he never wanted me close, and when I wanted more than he could give, he disappeared, just like that character from Blue Jasmine played by Louis CK. He was aggressive, fun and he chased after the girl, until she dumped her boyfriend for him, and then one day they were supposed to be a date, and he failed to show, and it turned out he was found out by his wife. Classy. I loved it.

A true free, single man would have wanted me more often than B did. He was having an affair with me, and he was the one who had to hide from others he was involved with. And now that was gone, and I could finally be free.

I met C's friend who stayed over last night. He liked me last night and he wanted to talk to me more. But I was tired. I took a nap and then waited for my conference call to take place. Then another friend of his came over, and he knew that C and I had been dating so he was very comfortable with me. He used to work at KQED so we talked a lot about public TV and radio. He looked like a taller, younger, cuter version of Ira Glass. He was much better looking than C, and if it was not for the fact that I was already seeing C, I'd probably be interested in him, but he was the first person C told to, and he knew that we had been dating for some time. He asked me if I had retreated to the bedroom last night, I told him no I went home instead. That was how I knew he knew that C and I were dating. C's other female friend just invited me to another event. She liked me also and thought that C probably got lucky with me, because I was smart, attractive and had my shit together. C was proud in his quiet ways of me, and told her about me and how we started to date. I liked that about C, to be so inclusive, and while he was rather worried about getting tangled up with me, I think he made no secret to others this was a relationship, and he saw me. It was working for him because I was not high maintenance and I did not wanted a traditional relationship. I was happy that C liked me enough to introduce me to his friends. I enjoyed meeting new people. I learned things from them.  I met another good friend of his, the wife of this local celebrity who was a very successful scientist. I liked his friend's wife. I liked these people because while they were artsy and creative, they were extremely smart, and they were also very down to earth. C was one of the smartest men I'd come in contact with. I was always impressed by men's intellect. And C was handy. He made things with his hand. He designed things. And he made wonderful dinners.

So there I was, working away, while these guys hang out as they would normally do. C asked me if I needed something to eat, I told him just coffee. So he made me coffee. He often fed me. He took care of me. I could totally fall for him. I had never met a guy who knew how to cook like C did. I felt that in some ways when we fought - like when to see each other, it was cute, he did not want to be told when to be seen, and I could respect that. I would just wait for him to arrange for it instead. I was trying to be a bitchy so I said, "Whatever. Maybe we don't see each other this week." C would answer, "Yes we will see each other, we are two adults, we could figure out when." I trusted C. I didn't have to worry. He was introducing me to his friends. There was no intention for me to be short lived.

C wanted me to be with him on weekends. We saw a movie, had lunch, and then dinner.

I realized what I had wanted all along with B, was exactly this, the relaxed attitude, the fact that we were never able to conduct anything normal, do anything normal, outside of his bedroom should have been a warning sign. I was so wrong. I wish I did not waste my time on B, who used me thoroughly and had no regards to what I wanted. He rarely communicated with me. He was done with me a long time ago. I gave it an extra three months and then he got tired. It was the end.

I ate nicely with C, both of us were left handed. B was left handed as well but we never ate anything in his place. B did not cook nor have any food in his place. I suspect he did not even live there, it was his booty call pad. I began to believe that everything was a lie about B. He fucked me and fucked with me.

I walked out of the theatre and told C how much I loved Blue Jasmine.

C did not care for it. He had expected it to be more representative of San Francisco. This was not about San Francisco, this was about a woman who was free falling, someone who had everything, and then found her husband cheating and destroyed him, and herself.

I was free falling. I was heart broken three times by B. I thought I'd crash and burn. I could relate. I could be the crazy woman. B cheated. I was OK with it, but in the end, I wanted someone who would want to be with me, and make me his priority. I was never B's anything. He was fundamentally an asshole, who would simply disappear, or make a date but did not show up and did not even have a courtesy to tell me that he was sorry. He was the worst kind. He lied to me by telling me that he loved me, he tried to control me, and he told me millions of lies. He was my cautionary tale.

Cate Blanchett did an excellent job. She did free fall. She did end up to be crazy. She was alone and talking to no one, in her beautiful designer clothes, she was lost, and had no one to turn to. She was, utterly alone and sad and humiliated. It was not because of her losing the material world, it was because she found out her husband was leaving her after cheating behind her back for years.

I did not want to be like her. I couldn't afford to be crazy. B was toxic, manipulative, and hurtful. He stood me up more times than I could count. He was self absorbed and self interested, and he did not care anything about me.

This was the conclusion I made about B.

C was the kinder nicer and wonderful version of B.

C cared a great deal about me. C may appear to be grumpy but he was nice in real life. I liked his friends.

They like me too.

I could count on C once a week, most of the time. And we talked all the time.

And I think that's how it would be. Honesty and affection. I did not want to fall in love. I did not think that I could be in love again. And that was the best of the outcome of my experience with B, so that I could start with C, on the right footing, this time.

I was not going to become Jasmine, and I stopped free falling. Tonight. Finally.

B was dead to me. May he be gone for the rest of my life. And when he no longer mattered, we'd be acquaintance again, and I'd forgotten about everything that had ever happened.