He made his blog private after it didn’t accomplish what he had hoped for. And yes, despite knowing its only intent to have been to draw me in, react or do something stupid, it still got to me, and I did react a few weeks after it was published leaving a tearful message asking what he wanted from me, going over everything that happened, telling him if he really loved me he would get help. So I regressed but forgave myself and went back to no contact.
He also has a Spotify playlist created just for me – Aren’t I the lucky one! Instead of getting real help for his problems he spends time on social media to get his supply, and does crap like this, not realizing I have caught on to his BS so his words no longer mean anything. He’s devoid. Empty. No true north. No integrity whatsoever. This also serves as a fantastic example of why people don’t believe the hell we have traveled – I mean, he sounds so….I mean, doesn’t he just sound like he’s such a nice guy who loves me so much…he’s the poor victim, he’s heartbroken, and I’m the bitch. It’s all BULLSHIT! An act. Funny thing is none of his friends or colleagues knew or know when this was online because it’s all done for show and/or to manipulate. In reality, if he truly felt what he says he felt he would have acted and shown his feelings through his actions, not meaningless and empty words. His actions were clear in conveying he didn’t give a damn about me – He never had my back, he never protected me, he never loved me, he never put us after his kids, he was never interested in me or my life or what I was about….he wasn’t real…..he’s not real…but I loved the persona he put forth…it is what it is…
I have spent the last couple days listening to music in the hopes of inspiration. I am no poet or lyricist and so surrounding myself, immersing myself in the product of those that are is in hope of elevating my feeble skills, if only a tiny bit. What has occurred, to be sure, is a heightened appreciation for the words assembled in transcendent and evocative ways with music that tells not complex stories simply, but often sharing simple, common experiences and feelings in ways that provide incredible depth and insights. Truth, even when hard to accept.
This song, Most of the Time, has been on repeat for a while. It’s given me chance to hear a truth and witness a delusion. All the strength and all the confidence, a lie to myself today. Perhaps just a way through the day in one piece.
[Leonard Cohen, John Lennon, Bob Dylan, Johnny Cash]
I am grateful to each today.
Lacking in each and working hard to find and exhibit them all.
I am grateful for the distance, perspective and quiet offered at the water’s edge or in the midst of mountains. To know when my own anxiety is highened when I don’t make the time to put myself where my heart and soul is most a home. Flat, featureless and landlocked, the midwest terrain of my youth made it difficult to gaze further than a mile away. Our place in the world seems more significant with the myopic knowledge that humans have near complete agency over their immediate surroundings. Creating in me a sense of confidence unearned. The vastness of oceans, the unforgiving wilderness amidts mountatins, the wonder and unknown of the stars provides proper context. Better context. Confidence is tempered by knowledge of knowledge’s limits.
“ouk imae idenai, ah mae oido” – Socrates
I write to not cry.
I write to laugh at myself.
I write because no one is listening.
I write to discover what I think.
I write to understand what I think.
I write to keep my sanity and to lose my mind.
I write to pause my day and not let another day proceed without reflection on what has occurred and what is to come.
I write because I get scared and committing my thoughts to paper forces me to be brave.
I write less to share than to express.
I write because my first inclination is not always my best.
I write because my insecurities are too often hidden behind confidence.
I write because I am grateful.
I write to remember.
I write to forget.
The post below, was after he assaulted me. He had thrown me against the wall on December 21, 2016, he said he was sorry at first, but he changed his tune soon after and making even this about himself. He assaulted me and he played the victim. Notice how even after what he did to me, he made it all about himself. It was always about him,,,
I’m sorry Vince, no one has ever assaulted me before so I’m so so so sorry for not behaving the way you saw fit, and thought I was “unkind” – Maybe you can tell me what the appropriate reaction is to having been a victim of your unleashed rage. Can you wrap your head around the fact that the force that you slammed me into that wall caused a concussion and other serious damages I am still dealing with, almost one year later. Of course not…you are perfect. Nothing is ever your fault. Maybe I need to be like mommy dearest and ex wife whose motto is “suck it up” – except them of course – Maybe you should have slammed me a little harder so I wouldn’t have had any memory of what you did, that way I could just go on being your doormat.
You will forever be the green eyed monster…You are a dangerous, violent criminal who is a pure evil…that’s who you are…
The title of this site is an excerpt of a quote from Mother Theresa that encourages the reader to not let others’ actions or attitudes define your actions. To draw upon your strength to do the right things irrespective of those around you or the situation you find yourself in. The words have resonated with me since I first heard them recited by the late Leo Buscaglia, perhaps 25 or 30 years ago, and I was reminded of them recently. I certainly have not followed them consistently in the past but reading them now gives me renewed confidence that while the world swirls around me with all its vagaries and pain and chaos, my actions should always come from a place anchored by joy and wonder and grace.
Those are the words I uttered or wrote, or some variant of them, every morning for nearly five years. When together, they were spoken softly in her ear as we lay next to each other in the morning, but often enough it was via text as I was traveling or we were apart in our respective homes with our kids. It was my way of reminding her, my lover, that she was in my mind first thing every morning. No matter the issues of the day before or the challenges facing us in the day to come, the “good morning” helped anchor each to the other. To know that no matter what happens during the day that we can take refuge in the knowledge we are loved so deeply by our partner that we will get through whatever faces us. We face the day together, regardless of where we are.
But the challenges we had we let get the better of us. We crossed lines that neither of us should have crossed and that neither are ever able to take back. We hurt each other profoundly. I have deep regret and remorse. But remorse doesn’t fix us and we broke.
She rightly pointed to a singular element of our relationship that was a persistent issue early in our journey and everything else was wonderful. We both envisioned ourselves together when we were 80. It was easy to imagine. It was easy. It was transcendent. So much so that we ought to have been able to conquer the stuff in our way. We each have our own demons and we let them conquer us instead of being strong enough to conquer them. I am still shocked at the reality of it all. At the behaviors we exhibited. How can there be any way back from things said and done on both sides? Have I lost the love of my life?
I write because while she has been able to express, to me and anyone that will listen, whatever occurs to her to share as far as her hurt, her feelings, or my failings, my thoughts and pain have been bottled up to silently work through on my own. Maybe deserved, but when I tried to communicate early on my words were turned against me. When love and kindness were extended, spite and hate were sent in return. So now the silence from me creates a void she fills with the horrible claims, false assumptions, and lashing out. It’s incredibly painful to hear hate from a person I love. I am a monster and irredeemable in her eyes. I will be honest to myself about my failings and I, like her, have many but I am no monster. She is in pain. I am in pain. We process our pain in different manners but pain is no excuse to be unkind.
I heard this song the other day and its fitting given the point we are at, from her perspective at least. I know I have many things to improve upon, many of which I was already actively working on and making progress towards, some of which she pointed to and I avoided, some which I only discovered through the crucible of a horrible ending to our relationship. So many things are shocking to me how it ended and it will take time, focused thought and attention on those things to truly understand what happened and why. Whatever the results and ignoring, for a moment, the truly hurtful, harmful things she has said and done, I can confidently say she deserves a better man, whether that be me at another time and place or someone else. She deserves someone that fills her with confidence and love and a sense of safety. I gave her all my love, truly. I held her tight when she didn’t feel safe, until her breathing calmed, until her heart rate slowed, until she knew that this soul holding her was hers. What I didn’t accomplish, maybe out of neglect but never out a desire to make her untethered, was to make her feel safe. To make her feel special. I don’t know if I could have filled the hole, but I certainly could have done more to try. I could have been a better man.
If you have Spotify this following should be a full playlist. https://open.spotify.com/user/128831858/playlist/4GKKsRAKLp0gW6fTU1KjeB
Too often I am told I don’t understand. I do.