Some of my story, + long letter I wrote a few days after the end

[Before you can make things better, you have to stop making them worse...]

I've written my story here several times, and I guess the details don't matter too much, but preparatory to what follows, here are the basics: D and I had an affair. D left his marriage nine months into it. He claimed to be living a kind of false life with her because their values were so different, said she had BPD, and kind of explained the whole marriage as something he got into when he was emerging from a 15-year opioid habit. (Heroin, then pills.) Anyhow, it seemed like a pretty straightforward thing for him to get divorced. Not easy, but clearly what he wanted. My situation was different. I had a lot of love for my partner but didn't feel attracted to him. I tried to leave a few times and wasn't able to, for lots of reasons, but here are the two major ones:

1.  He (my "official" partner) really pulled at my heartstrings when I talked about breaking up, said he would give up on people after me, said if it weren't for his son he'd kill himself. Just to give an idea of how bad it was.

2. I could not articulate this at the time, but my partner was like a parent to me. I really had no parents growing up, though there were two people who gave birth to me and liked me and spent time with me when it suited them. My mother left when I was 10, moved to another country. To this day she can't muster any maternal feeling toward me. My father liked us as companions, when he was in the mood, but felt fine about going away for months at a time. They both expected us to look after ourselves entirely. Then my father died when I was just barely 15, and that was the end of parents. My partner was a good parent who was proud of me and supported me. I understand now that it was emotionally impossible to leave him, no matter how in love I was with someone else.

I was messed up. I acted abominably. No excuses. But I've learned to have compassion for myself. I understand now that I was pulled in two directions because of some really foundational emotional wounds.

D and I were on and off for 2.5 years. He was single for almost 2 of those years (though still living with his wife for the first year), so it was up to me to carve out time to be with him--which was of course miserable for him. I never promised to leave my partner, but I didn't always handle D's neediness well. There were a number of other really stressful things going on in my life. D was pursuing me most of the time, though sometimes he'd back off and ask for space--which I always gave him. I was consistently unable to make a move--consistently paralyzed. Not pushing or pulling, really, though he once accused me of that. I said many times that I would understand if he found another woman to be with. In the last 6 months or so he told me about various efforts at dating, but as far as I knew none of them had led anywhere.

Cut to last Dec. Over a gchat he kind of suddenly asked if I would be angry if he started seeing someone. I said I would be very sad, but how could I be angry? Then I asked, "Are you seeing anyone?" And he said, Haha, No! We signed off with him making me promise to always be his friend.

Then he stopped answering emails for a few days.

I asked if anything was wrong. He wrote and said, "Nothing's wrong--just busy and happy in a new relationship." That was it. I asked if we could talk on the phone, an he went back to ignoring me, and then suddenly started sending me these blistering emails saying I could go f**k myself if I thought I was a victim, he'd seen our situation for what it "really was" and he wasn't "buying it" anymore.

Okay, anyhow, I found this lo-o-ong letter in the back of a drawer today (and transcribed it). I wrote it about a year and a half ago, a few days after my ex told me about his new girlfriend. At first I thought I might send it, but as I wrote I kind of realize I would not. It's a brain dump, a snapshot of where I was when the wound was still bleeding.

I feel like my first reaction is kind of right on in a lot of way. There is some self-pity here, but a surprising amount of compassion for myself as well--compassion that leached away in the first awful months and that I'm just now starting to recover.

I'm posting it here, though I don't suppose anyone will read it through (though I would be grateful for your thoughts if you do). I'm posting it because I want to burn the letter, but I need to kind of "have" it somewhere.

So, to follow. It's too long for a single post.

[steelwork]

I've written my story here several times, and I guess the details don't matter too much, but preparatory to what follows, here are the basics: D and I had an affair. D left his marriage nine months into it. He claimed to be living a kind of false life with her because their values were so different, said she had BPD, and kind of explained the whole marriage as something he got into when he was emerging from a 15-year opioid habit. (Heroin, then pills.) Anyhow, it seemed like a pretty straightforward thing for him to get divorced. Not easy, but clearly what he wanted. My situation was different. I had a lot of love for my partner but didn't feel attracted to him. I tried to leave a few times and wasn't able to, for lots of reasons, but here are the two major ones:

1.  He (my "official" partner) really pulled at my heartstrings when I talked about breaking up, said he would give up on people after me, said if it weren't for his son he'd kill himself. Just to give an idea of how bad it was.

2. I could not articulate this at the time, but my partner was like a parent to me. I really had no parents growing up, though there were two people who gave birth to me and liked me and spent time with me when it suited them. My mother left when I was 10, moved to another country. To this day she can't muster any maternal feeling toward me. My father liked us as companions, when he was in the mood, but felt fine about going away for months at a time. They both expected us to look after ourselves entirely. Then my father died when I was just barely 15, and that was the end of parents. My partner was a good parent who was proud of me and supported me. I understand now that it was emotionally impossible to leave him, no matter how in love I was with someone else.

I was messed up. I acted abominably. No excuses. But I've learned to have compassion for myself. I understand now that I was pulled in two directions because of some really foundational emotional wounds.

D and I were on and off for 2.5 years. He was single for almost 2 of those years (though still living with his wife for the first year), so it was up to me to carve out time to be with him--which was of course miserable for him. I never promised to leave my partner, but I didn't always handle D's neediness well. There were a number of other really stressful things going on in my life. D was pursuing me most of the time, though sometimes he'd back off and ask for space--which I always gave him. I was consistently unable to make a move--consistently paralyzed. Not pushing or pulling, really, though he once accused me of that. I said many times that I would understand if he found another woman to be with. In the last 6 months or so he told me about various efforts at dating, but as far as I knew none of them had led anywhere.

Cut to last Dec. Over a gchat he kind of suddenly asked if I would be angry if he started seeing someone. I said I would be very sad, but how could I be angry? Then I asked, "Are you seeing anyone?" And he said, Haha, No! We signed off with him making me promise to always be his friend.

Then he stopped answering emails for a few days.

I asked if anything was wrong. He wrote and said, "Nothing's wrong--just busy and happy in a new relationship." That was it. I asked if we could talk on the phone, an he went back to ignoring me, and then suddenly started sending me these blistering emails saying I could go f**k myself if I thought I was a victim, he'd seen our situation for what it "really was" and he wasn't "buying it" anymore.

Okay, anyhow, I found this lo-o-ong letter in the back of a drawer today (and transcribed it). I wrote it about a year and a half ago, a few days after my ex told me about his new girlfriend. At first I thought I might send it, but as I wrote I kind of realize I would not. It's a brain dump, a snapshot of where I was when the wound was still bleeding.

I feel like my first reaction is kind of right on in a lot of way. There is some self-pity here, but a surprising amount of compassion for myself as well--compassion that leached away in the first awful months and that I'm just now starting to recover.

I'm posting it here, though I don't suppose anyone will read it through (though I would be grateful for your thoughts if you do). I'm posting it because I want to burn the letter, but I need to kind of "have" it somewhere.

So, to follow. It's too long for a single post.

[steelwork]

*****


12/11/14

Dear D,

I’m on a bus now, heading back to C. Just got out of [T]’s office. I feel grateful that I happened to be in town when this went down, and that he made time to see me yesterday + today. As I was walking to his office today, I started feeling this terrible dread about the session, which hadn’t started yet, coming to a close. That 50 minutes was going to be a kind of relieving bath – a time when I could be in the presence of someone who knows what’s happening to me. It’s like someone died – someone I really loved – and I have to experience all that pain without telling anyone about it. It’s kind of surreal, comes in waves, rises + drops. Today I felt swamped with nausea + had to run into the library where I did not vomit but instead (TMI) had stomach-wrenching diarrhea in the children’s washroom. Sorry, kids.

Well, I do feel calmer after [T]. I read him all the emails of the past few days – just really needed someone to verify to me what seemed to be going on. He’s my shrink, so of course he would hear me out sympathetically. But anyhow, yeah, he understood pretty well how brutalized I feel. You want me to get my come-uppance, do not want to spare me any pain, because you suffered + so should I. You say I’m putting it at your feet, but I really wasn’t thinking along those lines, you know. For me, blame didn’t come into it, though I’m glad you told me how angry you’ve been. I didn’t know. I suppose it seems obvious to you, and that I should have known, given how natural your anger is – but you didn’t actually express it to me until now, so… it all came at me at once. A firehose.

Estrangement, yes, I felt that, though we did talk + chat + walk through Ikea, +  often asked how things were + tried to be a sympathetic ear about the things you shared. So I thought I was, in broad terms, up on the basic details and events in your life. And at the point when you stopped answering my emails a few days ago, that was unusual enough that I point-blank asked what was up, so obviously that was a new situation. You made a conscious decision not to reply, instead of telling me you were angry or didn’t feel like being in touch.

You asked in your email yesterday, “How long did you work to train me not to email you anymore?” But I think if you’re completely honest with yourself you’ll see that you’re conflating two kinds of not-emailing. We have become less frequently in contact, and there were times you sent emails + I didn’t reply or not right away. I apologize for that, and I understand your hurt. I acknowledge that it must have especially hurt knowing I was distracted at times by the demands of my relationship with M. That is real, hard pain, and I was the cause of it whether I meant to hurt you or not. (I hope you know I didn’t.) I want to be clear on that. But I also need to say that the non-responses were almost certainly not as frequent as you think or remember. (I imagine you being enraged at this part + tearing up the letter without finishing it. Please don’t.) I’m pretty sure the non-responses are magnified in your memory because they hurt. And I need to say that “train” is a very wrong word. There was no intent to train you to do anything. In many of the things you wrote yesterday I get an impression that you feel I manipulated you, and you were therefore justified in hurting me by intentionally ignoring me. First, intentions do count for something, and your level of conscious, intentional infliction of pain was not tit for tat, because there was no ‘tat’ on my part. Second, I’m really disappointed in the fact that blame or justification have even entered the picture. The way I saw it, I was up front in asking for your kindness, and you responded by calculating how much empathy I had “earned” from you – how much of the pain was my “fault”.  I know it’s my fault I’m in pain! What difference does that make to my degree of need? Why is that a condition for your friendship?

This is what I said in my session: it’s like when I found C [an old ex] overdosing. He had been an appalling ___ to me for months, if not years. He was overdosing because he’d pigged out on f*ing heroin. I was pissed as hell at him on so many levels, but that was not the moment to hold his feet to the fire. You know who calculated his response on those terms? C’s father. It completely shocked me that he would not get in his car and drive four hours to see his son because it was a drug overdose and therefore his fault. If C had fallen off a ladder or been hit by a car, that would apparently have been a different story.

So maybe you think this is a specious comparison, but I hope it tells you something about how things look to me right now. I tried to sign off on a conciliatory note yesterday, and I meant what I said. You were my greatest love. I wish you happiness. I am sorry for all the ways I hurt you. But I ache with sadness that you do not have a tender word for me. [In retrospect I see that wasn’t quite true. He replied, “You too, all of it.”] And I feel, in addition, stung by the fact that you won’t cop to how bad you made me feel. You said in a few different ways that you are not willing to take all the responsibility or let me off the hook – that you’re “not buying it anymore.” But D, I have accepted responsibility – repeatedly and sincerely. I mean all along, since the beginning. If we’re going to talk about responsibility, and you’re saying it’s all mine, then isn’t it you who is claiming to be a victim? [He’d said, the day before, “You can go f*** yourself if you think you’re any kind of victim.”] Oh gee, we are both victims or neither of us is a victim. To me it seems so pointless even talking about victimhood, but if you want to think in those terms, well, I sure wish you’d take SOME responsibility instead of loading it all on me, because that is a heavy load and right now it’s crushing me.

When I read [T] your last email – the one you ended with: “But I could never have survived you for long - you need to live of the land…”, he asked me what I thought of that. I’ll be honest, and you won’t like this, but I said I thought you were rationalizing. That it was a way of spinning the outcome positively for yourself by saying things have worked out for the best + you’ve found someone you’re more compatible with. Then I asked [T] what he thought. He doesn’t like to offer opinions, but I badgered him, and finally he said something like, “It makes me question how serious he was about you to begin with.” I hotly denied that, and I don’t think he was right. I don’t THINK… but that sums up the sting pretty well. (I don’t think I’m such a wild woman, for the record, and you’re not such a suburban square. And I wanted that dog, that garage, that kind of life, too. And, D, you wanted to be an artist. We both wanted those things.)

You said, “Whatever you tell M is up to you, but I hope you leave my name out of it. I would do the same for you – did the same for you, actually.” Wow, that f**ing hurt. No word for how painful this decision is for me. And to my ear a self-righteousness that goes along with everything you’ve said to me in the last couple of days. You didn’t “do the same” for me. You didn’t tell [his ex-wife] about me for your own reasons – not out of some kind of chivalry. Please. But sure, I will leave your name out if it comes to that. Fine. Who MAY I tell, one wonders.

Probably you’re furious that I’m dissecting your words like this – something you’ve gotten frustrated at in the past – but D, this is a big part of why I wanted to talk on the phone – not blast email. Whenever there has been rancor between us, it took a phone call to straighten it out.

I asked [T] today, “How do I heal? What should I be doing?” He said he knew it sounded trite, but that I should try not to dwell on it – let time do its work. Well, I know that’s right, but I don’t WANT time to do its work, because that will just take you farther from me. It’s like when I was 15 and my dad died – I would get frightened if I found I’d gone too long without thinking about him.

I asked if this letter was a bad idea. He didn’t think so. He said I should give it some thought before sending it – and as I write, I’m not sure I will send it. You know, my hard drive is full of letters I wrote to you during periods when we said no contact, or when I was trying to give you space (periods that probably live in your mind as estrangement).

I wrote a whole list for you just now of reasons I hadn’t left M – why I didn’t come to you before you found another girl to replace me. I was thinking I owed you an accounting – that it would be some kind of good faith to itemize all the fragmented, contradictory, circular arguments I’ve had with myself in the past 2 years. Well, no. You don’t want that, probably. What does it matter? It doesn’t change what you’ve lived through. So I threw the list away. Just please know that it’s been a no-win situation for me. And now I’m faced with leaving him and being alone and knowing that you – my only love – are happy elsewhere, which SUCKS FOR ME, but as you said, you gave me dibs. So no self-pity. But it’s even scarier now, the idea of leaving. Okay, self-pity, a little.

You said I “have no right to feel blind-sided.” I have been reviewing our correspondence – [our private blog] (what will we do with it?) – your emails – remembering recent conversations – and I truly do not see the anger you have (I now know) been feeling toward me. I was floored by it. I was completely confused when you dropped the news about your new relationship, then vanished, then reappeared and rebuffed me when I said I needed to talk. That rage came out of the blue for me, and to come on top of my heart being squashed was devastating. Please understand that I’m not “laying it all” (i.e. everything I’m feeling) at your feet, but only the part where – it seems – you went out of your way to make it as horrible as possible, instead of showing me compassion at this moment when you have moved on and are happy and I’m down as low as I can be. THAT is what I’m saying – not that it isn’t my doing, as much as and indeed way more than yours, that I’m here, in this low place.

D, you have not given me consistent signals, is what I’m saying. So I didn’t expect this.

What I’ve avoided writing: the thought of you kissing another girl. Petting her. Your eyes lighting up for her. I can’t even think past that. As you wrote, about [his brother], on [our blog] – only nine days ago, actually – it’s “this weird, dark dead end where my thoughts turn around and come back.” Very, very well-put. I can’t fathom this – I don’t want to. I still feel your fingers laced with mine in the front seat of your truck. That was a little over a month ago.

One of the things I wrote on that list that I threw out earlier, one of the arguments I’ve had with myself (A MINOR ONE):

- What if this crazy feeling isn’t love but “just physical”?

I added:  (I don’t believe anymore that’s possible. The ague was loud, so it sometimes overwhelmed the other signals – for instance, the incredible sense of peace I had when you held me, or the aching wish to have known you as a child.)

I have to put this aside.

Sh*t. How come you didn’t tell me about her in a gentler way? It can only be because you wanted to hurt me more. I don’t understand what else I’m supposed to make of it. You asked, “Can we stay friends if I start seeing someone? What if I got a girlfriend?” I said I’d understand, but I’d be very sad. Then you stopped answering my emails, and then you dropped it like an A-bomb and went away again. Why, D? Do you hate me? Then why would you even want us to be friends?    bereft  

Does she know and love your secrets? Do you know hers? Is she kind? I mean kind, not merely nice.

12/12/14

Here’s some classic bad-breakup lunacy: I found myself hoping the fact that you’re so angry means you still love me. Jesus. It’s like a terrible pop song or something. Also, I hope you did not go to [my friend]’s reading. How did you even know about it?  And I’m a bit furious at the thought that you probably think “decency” should prevent me from talking to [my brother, who he’d become friends with] about us. I can imagine you scolding me about keeping your name out of it. But he’s MY brother. You have yours, and you went to him many times for comfort. S is MINE. I wanted to share him with you, but now I’m hurt and I don’t feel like you deserve a friend like S. So there. Not if you can’t be nice to me. I don’t care if that’s childish.

I told you once that I was friends with all my exes (except J, of course) – that I didn’t understand people who cut them off. Now I guess I do see how that happens. I guess because I made myself vulnerable to you – because you got so far under my skin – it’s different this time.

Thank god for sleeping pills. I’m worried I’m getting addicted, but so what?

[steelwork]

Cut to last Dec.

I mean December BEFORE last!

[londons]

hi steel, happy friday.   i read all of it and even repeated some lines.  my heart aches for your heart.  you have been thru so much.  has the hurt subsided at all?  thank you for sharing this... ., londons

[steelwork]

Oh, londons, thank you for reading.

It still hurts just as much. I don't think I want him back anymore, and I certainly know he's no good for me. I realized part of what held me back was a survival instinct - at first, a voice telling me he was too good to be true, and then a lot of other red flags. But damn, it still hurts. I burst into tears when I saw your response.

[londons]

i know exactly what you mean.  the too good to be true IS so true.    with any other guy, i would have left after one false accusation, but nnnnoo, i have to wait for 100 more red flags!  and then what do i do?   marry the guy!  oh yeah, that makes sense! the back and forth of my feelings right now make me feel like im the nutty one.  i just cant figure out how i could love him and hate him soo much, both at the same time!  its been 4 months for me, and one minute i feel amazing and free and think "finally!  no more sadness!  i am free from him!"    and the next minute, i am crying like a baby, unable to go one more minute without him in my life.       so what is the situation for u as of now and has there been any contact?    im sending you a hug!  we can do this! (i think! ha)   londons

[steelwork]

i know exactly what you mean.  the too good to be true IS so true.    with any other guy, i would have left after one false accusation, but nnnnoo, i have to wait for 100 more red flags!  and then what do i do?   marry the guy!  oh yeah, that makes sense! the back and forth of my feelings right now make me feel like im the nutty one.  i just cant figure out how i could love him and hate him soo much, both at the same time!  its been 4 months for me, and one minute i feel amazing and free and think "finally!  no more sadness!  i am free from him!"    and the next minute, i am crying like a baby, unable to go one more minute without him in my life.       so what is the situation for u as of now and has there been any contact?    im sending you a hug!  we can do this! (i think! ha)   londons

I guess a lot of people wrestle with what they could have done differently. In my case there's a very simple thing I could have done, which was to break up with the guy I was with and go to D at any point in the 2.5 years when he was actively wooing me. Of course it's not really that simple. And I understand now that he was in a sense on his "best behavior" with me all that time (though even at that waving flags everywhere). I mean, I'm a huge part of the problem, unlike so many others here. So I think that's part of why it's been hard for me to let go and move on: because it's very easy to blame myself, and because he didn't show his full-on rage and projection and splitting until it was too late.

So I said it still hurt just as much, but that's not really true. It hurts differently after 18 months. In a way, it's a deeper hurt, because I'm more awake to the pain of childhood now.

Anyhow, to answer your question: he froze me out for a month after this, during which time I did break up with my bf. I was such a mess. I hoped I could get D back, since as far as I knew I was his "greatest love" and he'd only been seeing this new person for a month or so. I wrote him a letter of apology and told him I would do anything I could to regain his trust, which got me a very weird phone call in which he told me who my replacement was: a young woman (16 years younger than him) who he had been openly dismissive of, and who openly hated me. That was blow #2. And now she was "really a nice person" and he said he loved her. "I don't have the ague [i.e. lovesickness], but I love her." Then he toyed with me for a few more months, then when I called him on his lousy behavior he raged a final time. That was over a year ago. Then about 6 months after that I wrote him one last time to tell him I was taking our blog down, and I got a chipper little "okay"

, which I didn't respond to. And that was that.

I feel so stupid about all of it. ALL of it. And still so confused.

So many people here have it so much worse. Why can't I get over it?

[once removed]

i read it. the pain was palpable 

I feel so stupid about all of it. ALL of it. And still so confused.

So many people here have it so much worse. Why can't I get over it?

im not sure it helps to invalidate your own pain and story by telling yourself "others have it worse, get over it, self."  .

we all have 'it' differently. we all experience 'it' differently, and we all grieve differently. it makes no one experience more or less worse/important than anyone elses. ive mentioned recently, i had a three month relationship when i was eighteen that did a serious number on me, a number i never really bounced back from. a three month, high school relationship, with a girl that i honestly found immature and childlike, one with whom i ultimately wasnt compatible. i suppose it could have been worse. we could have been together a year. it was what it was. it effected me the way it did. some people respond differently to early childhood trauma. it doesnt make the event better for one or the other. the way you feel, the way you experienced it and are experiencing it - those things are valid. they also make you right at home here, as opposed to separating you.

you blame yourself because you could have done things differently. the fact is we were all a part of the problem. there were things we could have done differently, for better or worse. do you believe things would have better if youd done them differently? is it the regret of what might have been?

[steelwork]

do you believe things would have better if youd done them differently? is it the regret of what might have been?

I mean, no. I know (or I think I know) that it wouldn't have been possible with him in the long run. Until I go back to the place where we're in love, and then I don't know anything, and then, yeah, there's regret.

This is why all the dissection of all the little weird things that happened matters now. Maybe I'm just like him, rationalizing: "I couldn't have stood you for long." But the truth is that he's a badly damaged person, and he treated me with total contempt in the end, when he was no longer wooing me, and at the very least he doesn't know how to communicate. I mean, I think those things are true?