Doing well. Checking in, peeps. Hope Easter is going well for you all.
Just had a lovely dinner with an old tenant of ours. Who became a good friend. And I drove home thinking, wow. After all I have been through, I still love this man. Truly. Madly. Deeply. WTF?!
I have known this for far too long and it perplexes me. How can you really love a person who treats you so disrespectfully if you have any SELF respect? It’s weird, eh?
She shared that she was asked by her work colleague on more than one occasion, if her relationship with Roger was above board during the time she rented our farm cottage. They spent a lot of time together and texted often. She now feels guilty as they did things like go away to our holiday home together. He did that. Took ‘friends’ away without me. It was just accepted by me as a normal thing he did. He had female friends. I just trusted him. He was not trustworthy, as it turns out. She had no idea and now feels it was totally the wrong thing to do to me, and is embarrassed she put me in that position, even though she says it was not an affair.
After I arrived home, I read another dedication from a woman to her dead husband. A longing love note. Wanting to share her current success with him.
And, once again, I ask, why us? Why did he not die before I knew he was a cheater. So my memories would only be of the beautiful love. The story I believed. That we were the loves of each other’s lives? I mean, well into our third decade together, I felt that, in my soul. That we were some of the very, very few lucky ones. Who had deep, true, passionate love. Like no one else did. We were somehow special. That our love was unique, and would survive anything, as long as we were honest with each other. I wrote my dedication to him as I healed at the conclusion of my research, intending on gifting him a copy, my forgiveness and love winning in this battle I fought about how he made me feel in fucking and caring for Leanne. I knew he was ‘the one’ despite his poor choices then. I still believe he is probably the ‘love of my life,’ he just chooses someone else. Not me. Because he is broken and scared. And it aches like nothing I have ever experienced before. This loss. This gaping hole.
But, we weren’t. We were never special. He never felt the way I did. And I had no fucking idea!
Why us? Because he took the easy way out, he decided to love someone he hadn’t hurt. And Trinket decided that thirty years, three kids, memories, treasures, DEEP, DEEP love and long, hard healing, and a life together are not worth considering. Because he is GOOD at this, he has a fantastic sense of humour, is flattering, and appears to be kind and considerate when he is in the love bombing/flattery/impression management phase. He has appeared to be vulnerable, telling her he is cautious, sensitive, worried, because he knows that pulls on kind women’s heart strings. Just like the way the woman he was/is still chatting to online. He talks about compassion, empathy, understanding with her, whilst gently ribbing her, in a good natured way. All the while, he cheats and lies, convinced he is a good guy, who makes mistakes, justifying it later by saying he felt lonely. Never communicating properly. I think I will always love him, and I don’t know how to cure myself of that, other than to keep going through this hell he planted me in. with humour and kindness.
May the chocolate be of top quality this Easter, my lovelies!