Monday, June 05, 2006

shattered

Saturday night, I was at my friends' house for Movie Night. John and I had discussed the possibility of meeting up afterwards; however, around 10:44, he called to say that he was going to watch the rest of War of the Worlds and then go to bed.

"Call me tomorrow when you get up, and I'll come pick you up," he said.

Carolyn drove me home.

Isabella started trying to wake me up at 8. At 9, she finally succeeded. Face-licking always works. I made some coffee, showered, ate, and called John at 10. No answer. I left a message, figuring he was still in bed.

I ran some errands and cleaned. I called John at 11:30. Still no answer. He must be working outside and can't hear the phone ring.

I knitted a bit. Cleaned some more. Made the salad for the potluck. I called again at 1:30. Still no answer. Should I be worried? Maybe he's sick. Or he dropped the 97 pound gazebo box [which he bought at Home Depot on Saturday morning] on his foot and is trapped on the deck.

At 2:30, I called again. No answer. "I'm coming over to make sure you are all right."

I grabbed the salad and headed out. I got to John's at about 3PM.

I unlocked the door.

"Um. Who are you?"
"Trent."
"I'm Steven. Get down Oscar. Where's John?"
"On the deck."

I walked through the house and opened the door. John was putting together the gazebo.

"Hi, John."
"What? I wanted to surprise you."
"You have."
"Did you meet my friend, Trent?"
"I did."
[pause]
"You never answered your phone. I wanted to make you sure you were all right."
[silence]
"I wanted to make sure you were all right."
[silence]
"I'm going to get some water. Do you want any?"
[silence]

I walked back into the house. Fixed myself some water. Gave Oscar an ice cube.

"Steven, could you come outside?"

He couldn't look me in the eye. He doesn't trust people. He has a hard time letting them in. He loves me. He's known Trent for about 2 weeks. They're just friends ... but, last night, he came over. They watched a movie. Things got out of hand.

"You can hate me if you want. You can leave your keys or you can keep them. It's your decision."

I opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn't. Nothing was there. I was empty ... except for the thousand little pieces of my heart.

I turned and walked inside. I took his keys off my keychain and placed them on the counter. I got the salad out of the fridge. He stopped and said something. I don't remember what.

"I can't talk to you right now."

I walked to the door. I must've said something else because he said, "What? Wait."

That's when the tears came. And I was crying at the door.

"I can't let you go like this," he said. But, then changed his mind. "I'll come over tonight and we can talk."

I stumbled to the metro station, calling friends, crying, spilling salad all over the bag. I skipped the potluck and went home.

Around 8PM, he called and talked. I didn't say much. He talked about trust and how he thought I'd never trust him again and how he couldn't stand it if I ever looked at him again the way I did at his front door. How meeting tonight wouldn't be productive because I would just fire angry barbs at him until he couldn't take it anymore and would leave. How whenever we were apart I'd wonder what he was doing. When he travelled I wouldn't be able to trust him.

And, maybe he's right. I gave him my love and my trust and he threw it away by fucking some young guy with long hair and bad skin. And, I don't know if I want to try to rebuild that trust or not. I don't know if I want to try to rebuild the relationship. Maybe I should just walk away from the ruins.

I spent a lot of time on the phone with my cousin. At 10:15, he beeped through. "I'm going to bed soon and wanted to call to say good night."

"I'll probably be up for awhile."
"Oh."
We started to hang up. "John, before you go, I left a computer disk at your house with my resumes on it. It's in the Kiplingers magazine, so don't throw that out."
"OK. Do you need it soon? I can bring it to you."
"No. I'll come pick it up. I want to say good-bye to Oscar."
"Good-bye? So that's your decision?"
"My decision? I didn't think there was a decision to be made. You were saying how I'd never be able to trust you again and how you didn't want me to look at you like I did again."
"No. No. I meant tonight. I wish today had never happened."
"If I hadn't have come over, would you have told me?"
"Maybe. Maybe later. After some time."
[silence]
"I can come over on Thursday or Friday."
"I had hoped we could talk before then."
"Well, Monday or Tuesday is too soon. And I have plans on Wednesday."
"Plans?"
"Yes, I'm going to the Al Gore movie, which you didn't want to see."
"Then, I'll see you on Thursday. Call me tomorrow."
"Bye."

He wished today hadn't happened? What about Saturday night? What about that? Did he wish that hadn't happened? Or did he just wish that I hadn't found out?

When I woke up this morning, I almost felt like everything was normal. But, then, I remembered why my mouth was dry and my eyes were crusty. And, the world shifted to not-quite-right. I feel slightly off balance. I feel empty. I feel hard. I feel weak.

I feel alone.

and I don't know what to do about it.

For my regular AIM chat buddies, I don't think I can handle real-time chatting today. I really don't want to cry at work. Most of you have my work email. Write me there and I'll get back to you when I can.

11 comments:

  1. You might remember me vaguely from D-X. My journal was called acantha and we exchanged a couple of emails about gay/lesbian groups in the DC area (I live in NoVA). Anyway, this whole preface is just so that when I tell you I'm so sorry this is happening to you, you might have a chance of believing I really do care. Because I do.

    I don't know what else to say.

    Take care of yourself.

    Sassy

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  2. 1. There is no shame in having trusted.
    2. Things will get better, take it from someone who has been there (fyi, that's what you "do about it" -- feel what you feel until it gets better).
    3. You did the right thing.

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  3. I have to say your intuition months ago was right. You'd had a feeling back then, remember? Several times. You sometimes felt suspicious. I guess you were picking up on something that was really there.

    I'm so sorry.

    Love you.

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  4. P.S. I'm fucking PISSED OFF that he'd hurt you like that. PISSED. ALL. THE. WAY. OFF.

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  5. So sorry to hear what happened... that totally stinks what he did. You don't deserve to be treated like that. If you need to talk, I'm here for you. Alyssa and I will help you drown your sorrows on Wednesday (if she comes...). Love you!!!

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  6. *hugs*

    I'm so sorry. Believe me, I know how you feel. Touching on what Goblinbox said up there, you had a bad feeling about this *months* ago. It makes me wonder if there weren't things going on then, too. All the stuff you mentioned back then was raising red flags in my mind. If you ultimately do try to patch things up, I think you should confront John about the things that got you suspicious in the first place.

    My personal opinion? You didn't mention that he ever actually demonstrated any remorse here. That really boils my blood--it hits close to home. No remorse? No dice.

    Either way, the only thing to do is simply be. Cry as much as you need to cry. Be as angry as you need to be. Though it may feel like it will never end--this, too, shall pass.

    *more hugs*

    -C.

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  7. Building on the previous commments, I want to add some things: John spent an awful lot of time on the phone telling you how you were feeling. That strikes me as odd. He told you that you wouldn't be able to trust him, that you would look at him a certain way, that you would be wondering what he was doing when you weren't together.

    That's an awful lot of assumptions in a row. Like he was making sure you were totally aware of how you felt so you'd dump him. Then he didn't want to come over and take what he deserved. I mean, if he was remorseful, he'd have sat through your 'barbs' and 'looks,' wouldn't he?

    I have a very bad feeling about it. I think there's a possibility that this isn't the first time, and that breaks my heart. Also, it seems he rather wanted to be caught. He was home all day, he didn't see your messages? He didn't throw the other guy out? It's like he was waiting for you to catch him out.

    Oh, hell. It sucks. I'm so sorry, honey. I hate being cheated on, hate it. (And I was queen of it; every boyfriend I had from 16 to 28 cheated on me. EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. I know all about this wretched shit.) You deserve so much better.

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  8. I don't know what to say; most everything written before me could've come from me also. But...really I don't know what to say. And offering you my ear at any point might not seem very significant, but it's still being offered.

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  9. I agree that he clearly wanted to be caught. Much "easier" in a way than having an honest conversation with you.

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  10. oh sweetie, i'm so sorry. if u need to talk, i'm here for you. i can't believe he hurt you like that. if you want, i'll go torch his place for you.

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  11. I've never really been in a relationship, so I'm unsure as to what I'd say to mitigate this in any meaningful way, but for what it's worth, I'm really sorry.

    I can burn down his village if you like. Y'all still have villages don't you?

    ReplyDelete