“Seven forty two in the morning, Eight seconds before it all sinks in , Put your best face on for the world, Fake another smile and just pretend, But you’re just puttin’ off the pain ,Nothing’s ever really gonna change, So let it hurt, let it bleed Let it take you right down to your knees ,Let it burn to the worst degree ,May not be what you want, but it’s what you need, Sometimes the only way around it, Is to let love do it’s work, And let it hurt”

I started this blog because I was having fun. I was confident. I was hot. I was living my best life.  The tone has changed the past few months. It’s become something real. My therapy. My diary.  Of course, I have the insecurity of my readers thinking I’m some emo nutcase lately.  But it’s real life. It’s my life.

I’ve been anonymous so I don’t often go into details about who I really am, but it’s time to share that. I don’t mean my name or identifiers, but what makes me.. well, me.   I’m a mom of three boys and dogs. I’m in my early 40s.   I lost my great job almost three years ago, which led to me working both jobs just to make ends meet.

In self-reflecting, I’m beginning to evaluate and wonder how I went from stability to working 80 hours a week and crying on the bathroom floor over a raging alcoholic bartender who’s treating me like I’m dog shit that he stepped in.  I’m living my life on auto-pilot. The joy has gone out of my green eyes and I can barely fake it. In my prior life, I was surrounded by a posse of friends that I could turn to in any moment. In this second half of my life, my friends are 20 somethings who have no idea what I’ve gone through and the main person I text is my ex who also upgraded me and is replying to me out of pity.

I’ve been teetering on the edge of exhaustion and sadness the past 9 months. Then all it took was Hurricane KJ to come through and finally destroy me. But this time I have no one to help me pick up the debris that is my heart torn in pieces. This is the first time I’ve felt alone with pain.  I don’t like myself like this. I feel like a whiner and that’s not me. The real me is like the old Animaniacs, “tiny, toony, and a little lot of loony.”

I want to do like everyone tells me. I want to just focus on something else. I want to just move on. I want to be one of those strong women that say fuck it, and let it roll.  Mornings are the worst. I dream about him at night but sleep is a respite. Then when I wake up to no missed calls and texts, I feel like I’m being punched in the heart and then gut. KJ is constantly and obsessively running through my head like a movie reel. And I can’t force myself to think of anything else no matter how hard I try.  Because this movie was cut off before the ending.  The not knowing what happened is so unfair.   It’s been a week since our breakup. And no word. I need to know how the movie ends, even if its not a happy ending, just so I can get started with the sequel.

He. Destroyed.Me

“I know I’m probably better off on my own Than lovin’ a man who didn’t know What he had when he had it ,And I see the permanent damage you did to me , Never again, I just wish I could forget when it was magic, I wish it wasn’t four am, standing in the mirror, Saying to myself, you know you had to do it, I know The bravest thing I ever did was run”

“He’s just trash” “Fuck him” “You deserve so much more” “You just need to move on”

While all the above is probably true from well meaning friends, it doesn’t make it hurt any less.  Your person is no longer your person. Especially as co-dependent as KJ and I were. He was addicted to drugs and alcohol. I am addicted to him. I know I broke up with him. I know it was for the best. But he was gone days before I put it into words. And it was a toxic love. Oh so toxic.  I’m damaged now.  I wish I could just move on like everyone is telling me to.

I woke up to three missed calls from KJ’s mom.  He’d disappeared with her car yesterday, and she needed it for work this morning. That confirmed my suspicions that he’d been drinking again. She thought he was with me (apparently she didn’t know we broke up three days ago).  He was always so cautious with letting his mom know where he was and to make sure she had her car for work.  I confessed to her that I think he relapsed.  He finally returned home this afternoon. She let me know so that I knew he was safe.  But this is exactly why I broke up with him. I can’t go through the anxiety all day. And the rational part knows drunk KJ is a fuckboi.   The not coming home tells me he moved on. And the thought of kissing someone else makes me nauseous.

As I’ve mentioned in many earlier posts, Friday night was our night. Falling asleep, beard nuzzling my neck, hand on my boob.  Now I’m without him.  It’s almost like losing a phantom limb. I can feel something that’s not there. That something is him behind me with his arms wrapped around me.

I went to our bar the other night.  All our friends were there.  Who gets custody of the bar? Who gets custody of B and W, our best couple friends who we are supposed to be going on a trip with in two weeks? (Which reminds me, have to get deposit back for that one.)

I have so much anger inside me. I’ve had so much going on and this is what finally is breaking me.  TY (the assault guy) was at the bar. He’s got more than a foot and at least 80 lbs on me but the anger from him assaulting me on top of what KJ just pulled made me not care.  PJ had to pull me back from attacking him. I was also going to drive home. It’s like suddenly, I just don’t care anymore.

I cared and I looked like a fool. Fuck that.

 

Here’s another absolutely perfect song.

” I said I’d catch you if you fall. And if they laugh, then fuck ’em all. And then I got you off your knees. Put you right back on your feet. Just so you can take advantage of me”

“Hi, I’m KJ. I’m from the other location. My ex-girlfriend knows you.”  

“Hi, I’m Ellie. I don’t know her.”

                             Three hours later:

“Ellie, want to stay and have a beer with me since we are both off?”

“Actually, I do KJ.” 

Four beers later:

“KJ, this has got to be the best first non-date I’ve ever had.” 

“Same Ellie. Want to get out of here and continue somewhere else?”

“Yep, but I’m on a rebound so just drinks and friendship KJ.” 

“Ha! Ellie, you got it. You may not even want to be there with the friendship. You have no idea how fucked up I am.”

Instant connection.  But I wished I’d never agreed to that beer. I wish I would’ve never looked into those blue eyes.  Most of all, I wish I would’ve read my blog over and over so I’d always remember the hell he put me through and realized how likely the possibility of a relapse was.  Or the mood swings that come with the recovery.

I don’t know if he’s drinking again or just being an asshole.  Considering he avoided his mom and not just me for two days straight, I’m convinced it’s the former.  This past weekend he disappeared on me for two days. He hasn’t done that since his last bender, when he hit rock bottom, a few weeks before he finally got completely sober.  When I finally spoke to him, he was short tempered and couldn’t remember any of our conversations from two days prior. He also started going out after work with his current boss, his old drinking buddy.

He texted me after standing me up for the second time in two days (something sober KJ has never done. Drunk KJ didn’t really do it often.)  “Ellie, I need some space to think right now.” “KJ, are we breaking up?” “Ellie, I’m not sure right now. I don’t know if I want to be with you or not.”

Whoa, he was in love with me two days before. I was in shock. I knew I could’t go through the anxiety of waiting around to see if he was breaking up with me. I damn sure knew I wouldn’t survive the constant agony of him drinking again. I had to make the tough decision, I texted him (he refused to answer the phone for days, it had to be text), a straightforward, heartfelt, with a little bit of savagery thrown in text that it was over.  I made it clear that I wasn’t going to be the girl waiting around for him to figure out if he wanted me enough. I also made it clear that I knew my worth, and he was throwing away the woman that stood by him through hell when all his friends and family turned their backs, tired of their antics.

There was a study done about the physiological response to heartbreak. Scans were done on subjects who were given pictures of their exes to study to see what part of the brain lit up. Interestingly, the part of the brain that detects physical pain glowed along with the emotional parts.  Yes, the inevitable break up happened.  My stomach is crampy, I’m nauseous,  and I feel like doubling over from squeezing pain in my chest. Yet, I can’t sob and I want to so bad. I’m listening to sad songs and looking at pictures. Watching the video of our first kiss. All I can feel is pain and emptiness.  It’s so funny how with CS I thought I was heartbroken, and now looking back I realize it was more of hurt from feelings of rejection.  This is truly a broken heart.

He’s again gone. I’ve gotten no response to us breaking up. I deserve a response. I deserve closure.  I texted him to tell me something, anything about what changed in how he felt. Tell me he didn’t love me. Tell me he used me. Tell me he found someone else. Just tell me something. In a way I want to thank KJ.  I’m successful. I’m smart. I’m hot in a cougar way. I’ve got my shit together.  I invested so much energy, and emotion, and money into a raging alcoholic who couldn’t look past the bottle to truly see me. Now I know what it’s like to love a narcissist. Now I know what it’s like to love an addict.

When I was little,  I had a recurring nightmare that followed me into adulthood. It was my school bus then and my car now going over a bridge and slowly sinking into a lake. Slowly,  I was going into this water and gasping for air, barely keeping my head up. If I wouldn’t have woken up each time, I would’ve drowned in my dream.  That’s what it’s like loving KJ.  Every time I think I can breathe, he sinks me.  It’s time for me to wake up so I don’t drown.

“Sweet, sweet heart of mine I’m gonna break again a million times. Is this true or gone. Have you turned to stone?”

Do you ever want to do holiday analogies? Like Santa Claus is to the Grinch as Cupid is to ___________.  Like the guy who would go around and steal all the jewelry out of boxes before a guy presents it at an overpriced cheesy dinner. Okay, I’m bitter. Had a date last night right in the area where CS and I hung out. The bar was actually at the restaurant directly behind where we had our first date. Then on the way home I had to pass the Mexican restaurant we would go to, and the hotel we fucked in, and the tavern where he asked me to be his girl.  That tavern is what this week’s blog post is on. Or rather the guy who runs the tavern.

DR and I were a Tinder match a few months ago.  He and I had a lot in common, being that we were both in the restaurant business. I failed, however, at finding out exactly which restaurant.  We had a decent date, went back to his place, listened to music, where I introduced him to my favorite non-mainstream band, Whiskey Myers.  I was super attracted to him. Until we had sex. Great kisser. Great dick. Selfish in bed.  We parted ways.

Fast forward about three or so weeks. My buddy and I went to the bar across the street from our restaurant, and there he is, sitting at the bar with his can of PBR.  We strike up a conversation, do shots of Jack Daniels ,which results in me blowing him in the parking lot after a hot make-out session.  We saw him again the week after, where he acted as if I didn’t exist. Didn’t say hello or even look my way.  Saw him again the week after, and he came over  to start talking to me, but was a total dick. Such a dick that my buddy was determined to let the air out of his tires.

Less than two weeks later I was at the tavern mentioned above. I was happy. Sitting across from the guy that was proving (I was wrong but didn’t know that at the time) to me that what DR said to me while he was being a dick was completely untrue. See DR told me that  I was the girl guys fuck but never care to date.  But at that tavern booth I was someone’s girl, and when my favorite band, Whiskey Myers, came on in the mix with all the popular music, I took it as a good sign.  Until I saw the manager going around to every table in our section but ours.  Even CS made the comment that it must be because we looked so cozy. But I knew better. It was DR.  My mistake was that I never told CS, and towards the end of our relationship, when we went there again at his suggestion, I felt like it was too late to bring it up.  I did mention to him that night that I knew the manager from my bar.

Two nights ago my co-workers and I went out to this bar and got a little trashed.  My friend turns to me and says “Look at this sexy motherfucker walking in. He’s exactly your type.”  I turned around and saw DR walking in and giving me that crooked smile. I told my girlfriend “He’s exactly my type. He’s hot and a douchebag with a beard. I’ve already had him.”  He began talking to me and bought me a beer and a shot. I thanked him, and walked back over to my friends. He came right over to my section with my friends and hung out with me the rest of the night.  He mentioned that he’d forgotten that how before we hooked up, he actually enjoyed hanging out with me and talking to me.  We caught up on things for about two hours. I asked him why he said what he did, he told me he was just making a reference to Tinder chicks in general. He told me that he’d seen me both times in his restaurant with CS, but he didn’t want to make things awkward.  He also told me that he knew we’d break up soon due to the change in our demeanors from the first time he saw us there to the last.

End of the night, he pays and asks should we leave together. I told him it was late. We ended up getting in my car, where he kissed me and asked “what now?”  When I asked what he meant, he said “well, you didn’t want to go home with me so I figured it’d be a blow job in the car.” Ahhhh….. there’s the douchebag back again.  I told him that I wasn’t giving out free blow jobs without getting anything in return. I rode him until I came twice (good thing I know what I”m doing on top because he’s still selfish),. He asked would he see me again next week. I left it at maybe.

I went home and sobbed. And messaged my guy friend (interesting fact, he’s the guy I matched with working on his Ph.D that I’d already met at my usual bar in my prior blog post. We’ve become bffs.), who told me to not cry about it, look at it like I used him. I felt so empty. Before I had sex that meant something, I was good at just using sex as a fun activity. Now I can’t.   I got off with DR, and it was intense, but at the end of the day, it comes down to I fucked a guy who told basically told me prior that I was only good for one thing.  Is the whole double standard thing still in play? Or is the best way to get  over someone not really to get under (or on top) of someone else?

I wanna be the Valentine’s Day Grinch. He had a heart ten times too small. I want one that turns to stone.

 

“I could have another you in a minute. Matter of fact, he’ll be here in a minute, baby, You must not know about me, you must not know about me. I can have another you by tomorrow. So don’t you ever for a second get to thinking you’re irreplaceable”

When I was twenty-one I had my appendix out. My surgeon was not that great and he left me a few abdominal scars. Every once in awhile, these scars will still be uncomfortable.  Not painful, just annoying. I think that’s the way it is with broken hearts. In the beginning, as soon as your heart starts to heal, you feel the pain like it is ripping apart. With time, you no longer feel like you’re going to split right open and cry,  but something will happen and you feel the tug at the scar once again.

CS gave me my closure call a little over a week ago. We had a civil conversation, decided to remain in contact and see what happens, i.e. if we could develop a friendship.  He apologized, which I appreciated.  He also said he didn’t think we’d ever see each other again.  Our main communication since we’ve broken up had been through Snapchat. I blocked him a few days ago because every time I see his name, it hits me in the gut that I was again passed over for someone else.

The same day I blocked him, I decided to dive head first back into dating again.  (It’s been harder for me to find a date this time than it was previously. My heart was not in it. Fear of rejection).  My first date was a guy named RS. We chatted all day and discovered he worked right down the road from my restaurant. He came in at the end of my shift. Now, this is how I know I wasn’t ready to do this. I’m a very girly-girl. I love makeup, hair, clothes, and shoes. I met this guy in my t-shirt and jeans and those god awful non-slip shoes.  He was pretty. All my co-workers could not stop staring at him.  But I’m not attracted to “pretty boys”.  We had a few drinks. Made out in the car for a few minutes. He texted me when he got home, I never texted back. (Is this considered ghosting? After one date?) My work friends were in shock. But again, I’m a firm believer in chemistry.

I did something I never do. I matched with a guy who I could barely see on a pic, but loved his profile.  We chatted for a bit on a messenger app. He told me that he was from the next state over but here about once a month working on his Ph.D. He then told me he was married but was just looking for friends to hang out with, nothing sexual necessarily, just friends. I told him I’d have to think on that one. He then continued to hound me to the point where I had to block him on the dating app and the messenger site. Fast forward two days later to Friday. I am at my usual bar. A guy comes over and starts talking to me. A really, really cute guy who’s just my type.  We talk and I introduce myself , to which he replies we’ve met once a month since October and I’ve introduced myself to him every time.  Now, I’m a bit of a drinker but I think I’d remember meeting someone four times.   TM proceeds to tell me how he comes to this bar once a month. When he’s in town. From the next state over where he lives.  Because he’s working on his Ph.D.   Fuck.  This can’t be a coincidence.  So I unblock the dude on the messenger app and send a message and looked across the bar, and saw him check his phone immediately after I sent the message.  I went back up to him and said “soooo…..”, to which he responded “I’ve got a date coming here. Please don’t tell her I’m married.”  Uh, that’s on you homeboy. Come to find out, he met Tandy in October, so it’s possible I could have met him then. I don’t think he was stalking me to my bar. I do, however, believe that he knew it was me when we matched.  He actually had a bit to drink and turned out to be a dick, who tried to convince me to do a threesome with his date. To which I declined.

And last night. The story of how my being spontaneous turned out to be reckless. And I was actually scared.  I matched with YR Saturday morning. We had no conversation all day beyond agreeing to meet for a drink. I’ve never met someone without any getting to know them at all. But fun is what I needed. To be wild.  We met at the usual bar. He is 6’6 and damn good looking. I kept getting a feeling that he was a shady character. He’d spent the last three months on vacation in a foreign country, and did not work.  And drove a brand new luxury car. But I was determined to be wild.  He’d had a little bit to drink when I got there, and told me he had very low tolerance for alcohol.  We did a couple of Cafe Patron shots mixed with Baileys (great shot, it’s called a Baby Guinness).  When I was on my second drink, he pulled me near him and said “Let’s get out of here and go fuck”, to which I agreed, on the contingency we use a condom.  We ended up parking in front of his house and hooking up in the back of my car with third row seating folded down. (I don’t know why I’ve never done this, it’s actually as much room as a bed.)  If I thought NFL player skull fucked me, it was nothing compared to YR.  CS once told me he’d had girls “tap out” before because he’s so big.  I am grateful for him right now giving me that idea, because I had to tap out. Close to ten inches down my throat and he refused to let me breathe.  And it still didn’t work.  He finally yanked me up by my hair, and asked “are you ready to fuck me now slut?”  He grabbed the condom and pulled me on top. After riding him for a few minutes, he turned me around to fuck me from behind. It lasted all of about three minutes.  I had a surprise after when I stood up to put my pants on. He’d pulled the condom off, and came inside me. Without my permission.  FUUUCCCKKK….. STD testing here I come next week.  He then proceeded to almost throw up in my car.   He got out the car, and told me he wanted to see me again the next day. I told him I just wanted to go home.  This dude could be the poster child for the guy you’re warned against on online dating. (He also called me twice this morning. I blocked).

Finally, there’s LM.  He comes off so non-douche bag. He’s also on the rebound. We’ve chatted for three days trying to get our schedules together. We’ve talked about everything under the sun. Sent pics of our kids to each other. It really scares me to see myself opening up again so fast. I’ve blocked my potential emotions out but who knows when we finally meet this week? He can definitely sense that I’m starting to back off from him. Spacing out our texts more and more. Am I ready?  I guess it’s just a leap of faith.

It’s been a fun week. Or at least an interesting one.

“It’s different for girls, when their hearts get broke. They can’t tape it back together, with a whiskey and coke “

Post break up day 2: I miss him. And I hate myself for that. He was the one person besides those I live with that I talked to or at least communicated with for three months straight. Not a day went by without something. I feel pathetic to still be obsessing over the question of why wasn’t I enough? So I send multiple texts to Tandy every time I feel the urge to text him. And she reminds me why I shouldn’t.

So this post is about the song. It truly is different for girls when their hearts get broke. I have two date potentials from my past , and one super cute guy seven years my junior. First is BJ. BJ I actually truly dated off and on for about nine months. Him and I had great potential. The chemistry was strong , it was the lasting type of chemistry though. The comfortable, familiar kind. Not the all consuming chemistry that burns you up on the inside that I had with CS. In other words, not the kind that gets you addicted , rather the kind that makes you feel safe. He’d cook for me. We’d watch football together. Sex was great. One time I even showed up at his door in nothing but football socks, a thong, his favorite NFL team jersey, and an overcoat.The timing was just always off with BJ and me. And the fact that at the time I had a huge Ambien addiction, and he refused to deal with it as he was a recovering Xanax addict. Upon finding out I’m on the market again, he jumped right on it. He wanted to see me last night, but I couldn’t, and he’s been pressuring me ever since to give him a day.

Next is young cop. He’s young, hot, and I’d had a really good time with him previously. I rematched with him and we began to talk. He asked me to dinner before his shift last night but I had to decline. Tandy even said “wtf is wrong with you? Look at him Ellie”

I matched with MS yesterday. He’s a bit younger. Also super cute. Trying to flirt but my flirtation button that I’ve possessed since I was a toddler seems to have broken.

“A guy goes how with his friends and he might hook up” But I can’t . And I want nothing more than to do that . Again, I don’t think it’s him that’s holding me back but just the fact I can’t get over the feeling of being duped. And I don’t have the closure I seek and will never get. So my question remains , do I just shave and wax and just go fuck MS? See if the old adage is true that the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else? The last three months were pretend to him, how do I get there?

PS: does anyone know where I can just purchase one of those neuralyzer thingies they had in Men in Black? Just erase all memories.

“Wherever you are honey, I’ll Pray For You”

Breakup-Day 2. Once the hurt starts to subside, you start to see things more realistically.  I’ve found all the little things I missed.  On our last date, he disappeared a lot. It’s obvious now that he was texting someone else.  (I may have called him out on this in a codeine haze last night.) This was the same thing CS did with me.  Yet, still proceeded to fuck me on the hood of his car and tell me how we were going to spend the night together the next week. And sing the line from his favorite song in my ear “I can’t let you go.”

Seeing things in hindsight eases me missing him by almost 100 percent. Sometimes anger is the stage to be in.  As a female, we want closure, and answers we are never going to get.  I’ll never get the apology I want, he will never see fault. I’ll never get the answer of why he kept the ruse going.  Worst of all, I won’t know why he chose to come to my bar for our last date, knowing he was ending things. It’s just cruel.

So back on Tinder. Sure I’m on the rebound and it’s probably not a good idea to jump right back in, but there’d be no blog or broken heart if I made good choices. So far the most promising is a cop.  My heart isn’t in it because I’m scared of everything currently, but I’m going to try.

I’ve been listening to this song all day. I’d never wish major harm on CS but a flower pot falling on his head is fun to imagine.