First thing’s first. I’ve removed her as a follower of this blog. I have to be able to talk freely here, and I can’t do that knowing that everything I post gets sent to her email box.
I don’t think there will be any real structure to this one. I just need to set my thoughts down.
***
At this point in my life, I’ve spent an aggregate of about 12 years devoting myself to two women who ended up cheating on me and leaving me.
In Melissa’s case, maybe I should have seen it coming. She had bounced from relationship to relationship every 6 months. I think she had one that made it to the one year mark. I’m not sure why I expected our relationship to be any different, but I did.
She cheated on me, and she was upfront about it immediately. She said she would always love me, but that she couldn’t be with me.
I took it pretty hard. I don’t have blog entries detailing my thoughts from that time period because I deliberately kept that subject out of here, but it shocked me to the core that this person who I had spoken to almost every single day for the last six years was out of my life forever.
Eventually I came to regard her as evil incarnate. I referred to her as “the infamous woman” for years afterward because of the emotional roller coaster she had dragged me through for the entire duration of our friendship and relationship.
I really thought Jessie was different. She’d had her own teenage years fucked up by a cheating boyfriend, and she knew how it felt to be left for someone else. During our relationship, it was revealed that her father had had an affair, putting both her and her mother through emotional turmoil.
And so I thought “Surely, if I can trust any woman on the planet not to put me through that again, it’s this one.”
But here we are.
I was cruel to her at the end. Perhaps unnecessarily so. But she absolutely deserved it, and right now I’m not sorry.
What she did to me was vile.
She cheated on me.
She continued to foster a relationship with the man she cheated on me with, even when I was very clear that in doing so she was hurting me.
She put me through hell for three months so she could explore her emotional and sexual relationship with this man, while I was told to stand aside and wait patiently without speaking to her. All the while she maintained that she loved me and was doing this for us, to rid herself of these “clouds” and the “confusion” in her head.
And then, in the end, she left me.
In the same way that Donald Trump is making a lot of people look wistfully back at George W. Bush, Jessie makes me look wistfully back at Melissa. There’s a new infamous woman now.
***
The worst part of this is the fact that I didn’t do anything wrong, and yet I’m the one who gets shafted. The woman who cheated gets a new boyfriend to help her get over the old one. The man who didn’t respect boundaries goes from being single to being in a relationship. And I end up alone.
It sucks.
My friends have been really supportive, but they can’t fill the void. It’s not possible.
Really, the void left by Melissa wasn’t filled until two years later when Jessie and I got together. And in the same way, I don’t think this void will be filled until I meet someone else.
I’m worried about that too. What if I don’t meet someone else?
I don’t do the whole “love at first sight” thing. I’ve never fallen for someone who I haven’t known for at least six months already. And with school behind me, opportunities for meeting and establishing relationships with people will be fewer and further between. So, I don’t know.
***
For the first time, the shortness of life is really starting to hit me.
I’ve just turned 26. If not for all this, I’d have been proposing in three weeks’ time. If it was sunny, it’d have been in the park, and if not it’d have been in the museum. And it’d have been done by reading from the advance proof copy of Under Milk Wood that I bought for her – specifically the early Mog Edwards dream sequence. She’d have said yes. Given the additional difficulties with the Atlantic Ocean being in the way it’d probably have been a lengthier than usual engagement, but I imagine we’d have been married at 27. That would have left lots of time for settling down and deciding whether or not to have a kid.
But now, who knows how long it will be until I even meet someone else? Last time it was two years. Say it’s two years again this time. I’ll be 28. A four year relationship and a one year engagement, and I’m 33. And that’s assuming the first person I get into a relationship with ends up being the person I marry. I hate that. And I hate that she’s already with someone new, so she doesn’t have the same issue.
***
I’m still in disbelief.
The cheating, and the continued relationship with this man, and the three months were all horrible ordeals.
But I could have – and would have – forgiven her for all of it if in the end she had chosen me.
That she didn’t boggles my mind.
That, after all that she concluded that she would be happier with him than me is stunning.
I would have gone to the ends of the earth for her. Those who were closest to her and could see the things I did for her on a daily basis were well aware of that. And if it hadn’t been clear enough already, the past six months – where I willingly went through the closest thing to a literal hell for her – should have confirmed it.
Beyond that, we were compatible on so many levels. Emotionally, mentally, intellectually, sexually, etc. We just… fit, for lack of a better word.
And so for her to conclude that she’ll be happier with him than me is difficult to comprehend.
If there were problems with the relationship, I could understand it. If we’d been fighting, or if there was a loss of passion, or if something between us had fundamentally changed, I could understand it. But there was none of that. We had a fantastic relationship until she decided to scuttle it.
We were both (as far as I could tell) genuinely thrilled with each other.
I don’t know how to describe the feeling. It’s like scoring a 99 on a test and being told you’ve finished second. I’m left wondering how the hell I got beat, and what the hell he brings to the table that I didn’t. I did everything for her, but everything somehow wasn’t enough. It’s tough.