Throughout all the fighting, the agony, the sitting on the floor holding each other, crying, promising, there were still lies. He pushed me right to the edge, but still after all that, I gave him a chance, because I thought that no matter what, I still couldn't stop loving him. Because I found out today that in spite of all the mending and "breakthroughs", he was still lying to me. Looking right in my tear filled eyes, with tears streaming out of his own, and professed 100% honesty.
And then, he lied. And he kept on lying for a few days. But I didn't realize it, so I accepted him at his word. Again. And again, he failed me. Hundreds of times, he's made promises to change, because he claims to love me so much. But not enough to be honest with me in the most crucial time, not enough to be honest in the most basic and elemental of ways. I really don't know now, if half of the shit that falls out of his lying mouth is true. I don't even really know if he loves me or not, or if he's just appealing to my kind nature, saying pretty things, playing my insecurities, to preserve his free fucking ride.
I actually had an epiphany. I've never seen this before, never been pushed that far over the edge, that I just quit loving someone. I'm not sure if I'm in shock right now, and I'll just crumble into a fucking disaster tomorrow? I have no idea. I've never gone through anything quite like this. This afternoon, it was all nice. Tonight, after I caught him out, discovered that he lied and had been lying to me for quite some time, my heart snapped shut. Well, It wasn't so dramatic, no. He wasn't home, and I couldn't make words come anyway, so I wrote. I wrote it all out in an email. As I wrote, my heart closed slowly. With each word, my emotions grew deader, to him. Each sentence, I realized how much damage he's really done to me, over time. He hurt me so bad, and so often, he actually broke me. My heart broke, but I'm not actually heartbroken. I broke up with him. He's crushed every bit, every scrap of love and esteem I've ever had, but instead of being a weepy mess, because that shit got tired...I got angry, then this coldness settled in that was so stark and so crystalline it almost startled me. Irv had to talk me down from actually physically kicking him out. Oh, he still lives here, sure. And to most people, nothing's different. And, if he can't fix his shit, when we move into the little house, he's moving out forever. If he can't give me a reason to try to love him again, if he can't give me the two things I ask for, have always asked for, just fucking honesty and respect, then I can't have him in my life. Because of the business, for Irv, for Alden, for the family that we have, and the 9ish years we've been together, for the memory of love, for the fact that I have more than myself to think about here, I didn't send him packing today, though I am sorely sorely tempted. I wish I could add hope to that list, but hope died in me along with everything else regarding him.
I'm not angry. I'm empty. I can still look him in the eye, I can have a basic cordial conversation. But, it's a little forced, because I'm still...I don't know, I'm still something over this, I don't even know what I feel. I do know that I'm not over it, not by a longshot. I still have these thoughts that pop up, and I get angry at myself, for being so stupid and trusting, and so willing to overlook so much. That's why I feel so restless, I am still very very angry at myself for being such a fucking mess over this for so long. All the crying and second guessing myself, all the times I thought I was literally going insane, because he had me twisted so far around with his bullshit I wasn't even sure of myself anymore. I'm not shocked, though, because I knew it already. I had a bit of intuition that he wasn't 100% alright, even though I tried to tell myself otherwise.
He's been attempting to make things right. He's been crying. He's even crying in his sleep. He handed me all of the passwords to all of the fuckbuddy accounts, and all the places he's gone looking and corresponding with people. I haven't looked. I saw enough before. It was actually a test, to see if he would really, legitimately come clean. He even handed me the box of condoms he bought. That was a weird moment. But, the doubt is still there, because what's to stop him from laying low for a bit and starting his shit back up? When he feels "lonely" as he puts it. What's to stop him from giving me half the info, and trying to hide the really horrible stuff? And, I saw some horrible stuff, but not all of it, I know. I didn't dig that deep. I am not a snoop. How do I know that I can see all his email accounts? How do I know that he's not just playing me. Again. Irv was really trying to persuade me to give him a chance. But, I told him on Friday that it was his last chance to salvage anything we had. And, in the face of that, he chose to lie. For NO. FUCKING. REASON.
I need to stop writing. It's not helping me like it normally does. I started cool and calm, but I can feel myself heating up, and now it's time to stop dwelling.
I've been having a semi normal evening otherwise, though I haven't eaten since lunch, and he's sleeping peacefully on the couch right now. I don't know what tomorrow will bring.
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