Went to a wine tasting tonight. I knew YBBK was going to be there so it took all I could muster up for me to go. I wasn't feeling well and could use that as an excuse but knew I'd just be postponing the inevitable. Things went well most of the night. It is hard to see him and not touch him. I want to just hold him. I hate that I love him so friggin much. Why and how did he create such a hold on me? I keep trying to rationally explain it but I know, matters of the heart seldon make sense.
We ended up sitting next to each other for dinner. Okay, so it wasn't fate, he asked and I said yes. It was a bit rough. I wanted to touch him. So each time I wanted to touch him, I poked, prodded, punched or kicked him. It was kinda like inflicting pain upon myself to stop the involuntary reaction but instead, I inflicted it upon him. Kinda a win win for me. And really not a loss for him, because i'm sure it didn't hurt him.
The part that broke my heart the most was when he apologized for hurting my feelings last weekend. He explained the situation that he had already explained before but still didn't get it. He didn't get that what broke my heart wasn't that he went with someone else. I get that he didn't want to be alone and wanted to bring someone. What upset me was he thought it was best that I never know. How can he have spent so much time with me and still not get me. Honesty is so important to me. Keeping things from other people is what drives wedges in relationships and destroys them. It is so destructive and hurtful. I know he was trying to protect me...which is sweet. But in the long run, complete and total honesty is the best. It hurts to know he was online looking at other women when we were together. But it hurts more to know he hid it from me. Okay, knowing he was checking out chicks while I was naked in his bed after he had sex with me...not sure knowing that would be less painful. But still, the honesty is what counts. I don't understand how he thinks that it I want to be protected from the truth. There are only a few things in this world worth believing in and truth is one of them.
The other is love. He told me he loved me. Maybe it was present tense. Any way, I want more than anything to believe that. But if it's true, it means that love isn't all that matters. To me it is. Maybe he sees shades of love. Like he loves me like a sister or a friend. But I loved him with all that I had. I let myself love him in his entirety. Blinded love...well not really blinded. Just the type of love that sees the past and present, the good and the bad, and still exists. That is what I call love. And that is what I believe can make all things right. I know he doesn't love me like that. That is the type of love you should have when you are screwing around with someone. Yeah, I jumped in bed with him before we had that. That was my fatal mistake here. But it didn't take long before I felt that love for him. I can't believe he ever had that for me. Because then one of the other things worth believing in, just isn't.
So he walked me to my car. I wonder if I should have said no. I procrastinated the answer and he took it as a no. But, I can never tell him no. I don't know why. I hate that. So he walked me there and hugged me good bye. In my spoiled way, I demanded a kiss. I wanted that one last kiss. I don't know why, but I did. I didn't want to let him go. But know I have to. I know that despite the way I love him, he doesn't feel the same. He is looking for something I'm not. I don't think I'll ever understand. He says "we have fun." It makes me feel so cheap. Maybe I just feel cheap for getting drunk and getting into bed with him - so not me. I constantly wonder if I had just behaved like the civilized person I am, if I would have saved myself this heart break. I'm not sure what I'd do if I had a do-over. But, I'm 90% sure, I would have stayed sober and driven myself home. Not to save the heartache, but to save this feeling of utter cheapness when I think about how he could never love me the way I love. And, if I didn't see that capacity to love, I would have never had sex. And if we had never had sex, I wouldn't have to wonder and woudn't feel like a whore at times.
We hugged one last time and I drove home. I cried the whole way. You'd think I'd be out of tears by now. But I cried because I hate that I still love him. I cried because I wish I could believe he loved me. I cried because I feel cheap and hate that I keep beating myself up for that. I cried because I hate that I miss him. I cried because I hate that he is probably dating and I can't even fathom it. I cried because he didn't get me or understand how important honesty was to me. And, I cried more because he doesn't seem to know me...not that he'd necessarily love me if he knew me. Just that he doesn't seem to know me.
So I'm home and still crying and coughing...friggin cold/flu/black death! I don't want to cry any more.
Sometimes the things that may or may not be true are the things a man needs to believe in the most. That people are basically good; that honor, courage, and virtue mean everything; that power and money, money and power mean nothing; that good always triumphs over evil; and I want you to remember this, that love... true love never dies. You remember that, boy. You remember that. Doesn't matter if it's true or not. You see, a man should believe in those things, because those are the things worth believing in. ~Hub from 2nd Hand Lions
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