“You need to leave, Now.” Are the words I hastily spit out of my mouth last night at a gentleman who had confessed he was still in a relationship with another woman, while spending time with me.
Let me start off by saying, the only regret I have last night is that I didn’t wash my face. However, I woke up this morning and my mascara still looked amazing, so way to go Glossier Lash Slick. I’m impressed.
I feel like a modern-day, Seattle-based, Carrie Bradshaw. Single girl, living in the city – writing about men she dates (the good, bad, and ugly), drinking too much coffee, all while some acoustic tunes play in the background.
However, I will never be able to pay rent for this apartment off of my blog, and I’ll never be a columnist in the paper. Because it’s alarming to even me that there is an audience reading my posts.
So now that we’ve set the stage, let’s dive in – shall we?
I’m often asked by several girlfriend, “why do you still talk to him? He sucks!” and more often than not, they’re right. “He” whomever he may be at the time, did suck while we dated, and probably still does. However, for some reason or another there is this odd attachment. There was no big blow up, no fight, no real “reason” for the split other than maybe scheduling conflict or distance. So when I’m upset or burned by someone else, I reach out for pure selfish reasons. It’s as though by connecting with my past I regain my sense of direction and remember that at one point, someone loved me and that I am worthy of that and feeling that.
Nothing ever comes from it – as I said, it’s purely selfish. I’m seeking validation.
Seeking that validation is not a negative mark on my self-worth. I don’t think less of myself, I don’t say nasty things about myself, and I certainly don’t feel as though I am less of a person because of it.
But I am a sensitive being. I am empathic. I FEEL things.
For so long I have shut down, built walls around my heart and sabotaged perfectly healthy relationships because I’ve been unwilling to feel, unwilling to sacrificially love for fear of giving someone so much of myself and then getting lost in the mix.
Dating the last 2 years as taught me SO much. Mostly that the only person who is going to speak up for me – is me. Learning how to do that respectfully, compassionately, and with understanding of the other persons feelings is HARD.
In the last several months I’ve experienced things that would make most people jaded. I get ghosted on the regular, put on the back burner, and now apparently I’m the “other woman.”
Now – dear readers – I don’t need you getting the wrong idea. I have absolutely been the other woman before, YEARS AGO. Lack of self-esteem, destructive attention seeking, and a broken heart will lead you to do things you didn’t think you were capable of. But I am NOT that girl anymore.
So when I found out last night, that the nice man my friend had set me up with was in a on/off relationship with someone for the last 3.5 years – I told him to get the fuck out of my house.
Some of you may think, “Wait a second, Jacquelin – what if this was an ‘off-again’ period and you’re jumping to conclusions? You should be more understanding.”
Well, I’m sorry to say this – But I’m not willing to risk that. I know exactly how this story ends and while I may be “jumping to conclusions” – the only person who gets hurt at the end of this is me.
How do I know this? Because I have absolutely been that person who was “off-again” in their long-term relationship, I was using someone for my own personal benefit to make me feel better about myself. Once I felt better – I would ditch them and return to my long-term partner and try again. This is how those on-again/off-again relationships work. I dare you to tell me otherwise.
So what did I do when he walked out? What any self-respecting, 1 bottle of red wine deep, woman would do. I called WAY too many people. I was upset, pretty buzzed, and needed validation from others that I did the right thing.
And here I am – writing about it, once again seeking validation? Well – maybe not. Perhaps I’m just venting and finding the perfect words to express why I’m so burnt out on dating.
It’s just so disappointing.
Even the “nice guy” I was seeing for the last 6-8 weeks has turned out to not be as nice as I thought he was. If I catch you in a lie, and you continue to lie – what the hell. You have an opportunity to come clean, tell the truth, in a judgement free zone. But then to continue it, and then run and hide from me for weeks – that’s on you bud. I’m not going to sit here and be upset over you because you can’t seem to be honest. I deserve honesty and actually – a hell of a lot more than just that. That’s like – BARE MINIMUM.
It would appear that is it easier for me to write about disappointment, betrayal, pain, and horrible fucking dates — than it is when I am happy and beaming with love. Sorry?
My therapist moved locations so I haven’t seen her in months. Markie has been on vacation – so even though I have an appointment with her tomorrow at 2:00pm, it’s been probably 6-7 weeks since her and I have caught up.
I’m debating on how I want to handle this appointment.
Generally I will try to vomit all the shit that’s happened in our life since the last time we talked. But I feel as though I owe it to myself to dig deeper into this. Especially since her and I have now been working together for almost a year (It’ll be a year next month, which is INSANE!).
Maybe it’s time to dig a little deeper – find a new direction. I’ve been celebrating/bitching about men who seem to pass through my life for the last year. I think the real question it’s time to ask is – what is it about me that is attracting the non-committal type? Why do I fall for the unavailable man? How do I move away from that so I can find enough love within myself to know better.
I think I’m on my way. You may see me as being cold-hearted and unsympathetic. But this journey is mine, and it’s a selfish one. Because at the end of the day, I’m here alone with my dog & cat. Writing to you from my couch, drinking my second cup of coffee, in my bathrobe, wearing a face mask. Curly hair tied up on top of my head, contemplative about my next move.
It’s time to get the pawns off the table and check mate.
Until next time,