DTM

Yes, I DTM’d him. DTM…what is that you say? Well, if you’re a dago, you’ll understand when I say it stands for Dead To Me. One of the trademark Italian-American punishments… “Don’t talk about him; he’s dead to me….” And, in Italian-American culture, it means that person no longer has your confidence or loyalty. They literally no longer exist on your mental or emotional radar. They are not worthy of your time or effort. Dead To Me.

So now PJ is DTM. I can’t believe that he just wigged and bailed out of our relationship. Any way I slice it, it doesn’t make sense. I truly believed he loved me and we would be together. I believed everything he wrote and believed his head and heart were truly into it. I still can’t fathom what changed….other than he is no longer in love with me. He insists that is not true. But I don’t believe him. I guess he is just trying to lessen the blow. But, I feel like it is BS. There is not point throwing the BS flag. It doesn’t really matter. All that matters is he wanted out and now that he is; he is DTM.

I deleted all is pictures, texts, emails and anything I had that reminded me of him. I took his phone number from my phone (to prevent me from calling him in a moment of weakness). I threw away the tea pot he bought me. I brought in to work (and fed the vultures) the candy I had at the house for him to munch on. I threw away one of the Christmas presents I had (made – photography) for him. I have to figure out how to get rid of the presents I bought for his family. I have cigars from my visit to the DR for his dad and an antique bow we bought for his daughter. I don’t want to throw those things away…especially since his daughter really loved that bow and I adore his daughter. I don’t have an address to send these things to, though. Funny, huh? I’ve been to his house a few times but never knew the address. I won’t call him, though. Because he is DTM.

I still have the scarf and book he bought me. I really like the scarf. We bought it in NYC and it is not only warm but very in fashion. I think I will keep it. The book, on the other hand, is one that he wanted me to read. The Iliad or one of those intellectual “poems”. I tried to start reading it but it made my head hurt. I figured I’d wait til winter when the world seemed to be wrapped in a cocoon and maybe the boredom of winter would make the book more appealing. But, now, I think I’ll just chuck it. I hate throwing books away! But, it reminds me of him and I don’t to be reminded of him. He is DTM.

DTM doesn’t lessen the heartache. It doesn’t bring back the dreams that I had hung on our relationship. It doesn’t stop me from questioning God and why this had to happen to me (again). It doesn’t help a whole lot. But it does give me purpose. It gives me something to do, when I see those little triggers of facial fluid. Eliminate the triggers and eventually, the heart will mend and new dreams will take the place of old ones. God will be a wonderful Father in heaven to be praised rather than damned for not taking away this desire that can’t seem to be fulfilled. But, eventually is the catch word there. Right now, I’m hoping to make it a couple of hours without crying. And, coping the only way I know how. He is so DTM.