The Thirnteenth.

If i were a superstisious person, i might think that the year 2013 is bad luck, or that the 13th of any month is bad luck, or simply the number 13 itself.

Am i superstisious? i dont think so, but i guess everyone is to some degree. i do believe that everything we do comes back to us. and i also think that things happen in threes. So maybe all of this is my own doing, if things we do come back to us. Maybe this is really all my fault. I hope not.

I should probably give some background, and i will in due time. for now….i really just want to let all this out, that i thought about, mulled over, and cried while driving home. It’s not easy to talk about, and i certainly havent wanted to tell others. i guess another motivation is to vent here, without anyone i know seeing this, and thinking what an idiot, or a fool i really am. And also that maybe some day, Brian will see this too….and the dates of my posts will be there for all to see, and maybe the time line will tell a story too.

I wake up every morning sad, hurting, and i feel like bursting into tears. after a few moments, i am usually able to shake that feeling off, and get down to the business of getting ready for work. i’m in a strange apartment, all my stuff in a closet, and one bathroom. another stab to the heart, as i think about the house i used to live in, and the bed that i used to wake up in. knowing it’s not mine now….and probably never will be again. That is the thought that usually makes me angry. i have become a bitter angry person. something that i dislike a lot. i used to look towards the future, make plans, imagine B and myself growing old together. holding hands, me cuddled up to his shoulder, and blissfully happy.

my future wont happen that way.

i wish i could go back in time. i’m on the fence as to what i would do though, if i had the chance to un-do any of this. would i chose not to be with B from the beginning, or would i try to stop all the events since 2007?

I have been in love with B for a very long time, only now those feelings are mixed with hate. contempt. loathing. so many things muddy those waters, at times it’s hard to tell which i am feeling, or all at once.

I have begged B on so many occasions i cant even count them, to love me, to hold me, to comfort me. not to break my heart, to stop cheating, to have some compassion for my broken heart. His response is to treat me like i am non existent. disposable. irrelevant.

he hasnt always treated me this way. but since 2007 he has more and more.

on my drive to his house today, i was excited to see him. i wanted to see him, i wanted him to drop down to his knees and profess his love and dedication to me, his commitment to us. i wanted him to beg me for his forgiveness. i often think about spending time with him. it’s been so long since we have had sex, i honestly cant recall when it was. over a year i’m assuming. when i think about spending time, i cant bear the thought of having sex with him, but i do think about him lying next to me, rubbing my arms, or my legs, just touching me. telling me he loves me, and my feeling protected. my hope is that some day, after rekindling the feelings of safety, and being cherished, and B earning my trust again, that i can be intimate with him without bursting into tears.

my hope is that the time i want to spend, in his arms, can lead to that. can lead to a renewed love and intimacy between us. but B doesnt do any of that when given the chance. and the longer we go, without those things happening, the harder it is for me to do them. i am now to the point that i dont want him to touch me anymore. i cant bear to look at him most of the time.

even today, when i got to his house, the sight of him made me angry beyond words.

he has left me in limbo. telling me he loves me, telling me he wants to try, that every time he says he will, that “HE THINKS HE”S GOING TO” and yet he doesnt. all that does, is hurt me more. it makes me feel like every time he’s said he will try, is nothing but a lie, because he doesnt follow up his words with actions. instead, he just goes with the flow, and has even told me that he thinks i will come back. knowing he hasnt done anything for me to come back to.

he’s told me that he can do anything, fuck anyone he wants, and i will just stay with him, because i am that pitiful and pathetic.

now, whenever he gets that tone in his voice, it doesnt matter what words come out of his mouth, it’s as if he is saying those things all over again. turning his back to me, and my crying, begging him to stop hurting me, and going to the arms of someone else.

when i have told him i’m not coming over ever again, usually because of how he’s treating me and his refusal to stop. i throw out that threat in the hopes that it will get him to stop treating me like trash. he responds with “why would i think you wouldnt come over, you say that often, and look… you are” but he says it with that tone. and i feel that pain all over again, remembering what he said to me the night i caught him having sex with Ashley (who was barely 18) and when SHE was upset and ran out of OUR HOUSE, he went out after her, leaving me to deal with my shock and pain alone. just like most of this. he has left me to deal with it alone.

i’m bitter about that. the very person that is supposed to be the one to love, cherish and protect me, is the very person destroying me. and he knows this as he’s doing it, and yet he doesnt stop. he continues.

when i ask him why he does these things, i get the standard answers “i dont know” or “i dont remember”. and to me, both of those answers feel like lies. it’s impossible that he wouldnt remember anything, about any of the MULTIPLE lies and times he’s cheated on me, with multiple different women. impossible.

am i really deserving of this? do i deserve a man that seems to be driven to destroy me like this? he seems unwilling to stop. it’s like this is the sole reason he was born. to hurt me so much, destroy everything i am, till there is nothing left, and i kill myself in a way seeking for relief from the pain of loving someone who seems not to care a bit. not about me anyways.