I guess this is how these things go, right?
You believe them when they say they love you and then they use all that to make things awesome in their marriage. Which is something I should be happy about, eh? But I was delusional and thought I’d really figuring something out. This relational anarchy. This polyamory.
I don’t know.
Maybe I figured something out about myself and the whole thing isn’t really real. It’s just something people talk about in theory and me trying to put that theory into practice well. It just blew up in my face.
Now I don’t even know if this is true, which is another issue with RA because I feel just confused most of the time when it comes to The Ex or whatever I’m calling him now. We had this huge conversation where he admitted he felt guilty and that things were finally getting better with his wife and he realized that he thought about me and cared about me a lot less when things were good with her and so realized that maybe this thing isn’t really really but just a manifestation of his frustration with her. He didn’t tell ME this of course. He told Ed. Who relayed it. And I don’t even know what to say to it, honestly. It just made me want to cry.
Because for me it isn’t like that. It may have been like that at times in the past but now it really just isn’t. And so. I did the thing I do.
I fall in love with someone while I’m trying to help them and fix them and make them happier and better and they get to keep the happier and better and I’m just left with empty.
That’s what it feels like.
And I guess that was the whole point of this thing then. Me fixing his marriage. Me getting him to be better. I encouraged him to get in shape and lose weight and stay healthy and fuck his wife and well. He’s doing all of those things and now I’m not really useful anymore.
I wish somebody would write a book about that shit. About how you pour yourself into someone and you love them just… really completely. And then they just peel you off and throw you away when they don’t need you anymore.
I say this after he sent me books for Valentine’s Day. Which should be huge and meaningful but I don’t know. I was left with that same empty feeling.
We haven’t had a real conversation since I saw him last and even then everything was strange. We were nervous around one another and sex was frustrating and he was frustrated and I don’t know. Right now I just want to cry. To cry for a very long time. I feel used and trampled on.
I don’t think he did that consciously. But it is very hard for me to step back and look at things and realize that my purpose here was to repair his broken marriage and get him interested in being a better person.
That’s noble and all.
But I feel used and lonely and dried up and wasted.
We were friends back when his marriage sucked.
Then we became lovers and I taught him things to do and things to say and how to be better and he did those things and then he tossed away the medicine.
I should be happy for him. For them.
And I am.
But so fucking sad for me.