Relief

That feeling that I have been waiting for my entire life and didn't even know it until the experience hit me like a Sumo wrestler gives hugs. 

That time came when he came over to get the one thing remaining of his in my basement.  At the risk of TMI, as if reading someone's blog isn't already exactly that, it was a stockade.  It was a "gift".  You know, the one thing that you have no use for other than for other people, but can't because if you use it for other people, WW3 would ensue.  For those of you naive to all things BDSM, I encourage you to use a search engine to find the answers that you're looking for.  For those who are fully aware, I silently high five you.  On the ass.  But only with your consent, of course :)

For me, it was a negative symbol of a relationship with someone who continuously made it clear that he had no interest in who I am, but rather what he could make me be.  Or hoping that he could make me be, as anyone who knows me knows "making me" be or do anything goes exactly nowhere.  I needed it out, but I didn't want to be an asshole about it.  So I simply texted him and gave him the option of either coming to get it or selling it myself.  Hindsight being what it is, I should have been an asshole.  I could have made a killing.

I had confronted him about something that I had found out about what he is doing with his life now a couple of weeks ago, and as usual he danced around it.  I swear, the way he skirts around confrontation he would be awesome at River Dance.  Maybe he should try out to go on tour with them.  Mr. 7 Year Itch, Lord of the Dance.

In my first blog on here, I had said that he is now more of a boyfriend to be than he ever was, here's a little more insight into this.  Since Mr. 7 Year Itch and I broke up in December, he's calling and texting me daily. The fighting that we used to do constantly is over. We talk civily. He acts like he actually cares about my health problems, not so new to me but popping up and saying "Howdy" more than I'd like lately.  And yes, out of something I can't describe we have slept together a few times too.

If ever there was a notion at any point in our 7 years together that I was something to him other than just a girlfriend, it was lost on me.  You don't hold onto affection, love, and ideas about your future together as playthings only saved to solve an argument.  A last minute Hail Mary hoping that I won't walk away angry.

If there was ever a glimmer of hope that things would be different, it is now gone.  He has finally told me the truth, and in turn something opened in me that can only be described as a firey pit mixed with rage, betrayal, self doubt, sadness and hatred. 

No more mindfucking me into believing his lies and convincing myself that I was crazy.

No more constantly questioning my own self worth based on how he spoke to me that day.

No more taking time taken away from my children and being the mother that they deserve tied to a phone arguing.

No more misery.

No more insanity.

No more fighting my gut instinct.

No more lowering myself to what I though I had to be in order to be loved.

No more watching as another girl got everything I should have gotten.

No more caring that another girl is getting everything I should have gotten.

No more negative energy.

I will be enough for a change.

I will be the only one that matters.

He keeps trying to smooth over what he said and what he's doing.  Trying to claim that he only wants to be with me, that he misses me.  That he's going out of his way to open his wounds that he's been licking because he wants a future together.  He wants me to not yell at him.  He doesn't want me to be angry.  Well too bad asshole!  I'm angry.  And you're the one who made me that way.

But along with all the other feelings, there's an overwhelming sense of relief.

I don't have to believe him anymore.

That is the most peaceful feeling that I have ever known.