For part 2, click here.
Before I continue the story, I have to say a couple of things. I didn't say up front that I knew he was married, and had children, because I was trying to ease into the story, feel it out. I can admit that I am scared of what people are going to think of me, and I have to warn you that it is going to get a lot worse. The red flag thing I keep throwing in is my hind-sight having 20/20 vision. I should never have allowed it to go beyond a friendship, and I should have seen the guy for who and what he was by the warning signs he was giving off. I would like to say I was young and stupid, but I was just stupid. He was a smooth-talking charmer selling snake oil and I bought his whole supply of it. When I pulled back, he pursued. When I needed him, he retreated.
This story is going to be very long, and I can only write little bits of it at a time. I'm trying to remember it, process it, purge the poison, and let it go. It's extremely painful, and I'm going to try to be extremely honest. It's going to be difficult, but it's something I need to do.
Jon showed up on my doorstep on a Saturday night in February, 2000 and we talked long into the night. The next day was a brunch for my Grandma's birthday and I left him at my house while I attended. He was feeling pretty badly about the whole situation, I could tell, and I felt badly for him. He suggested that when I returned, we would go rent a movie for after dinner. Unfortunately, his plans changed.
His exact words were, "my wife has been lobbying pretty hard for me to go back home". Apparently, when she kicked him out, she didn't think that he would actually leave. She had been leaving him messages all night on his cell phone that he ignored, and then she got his parents involved. While I had been at brunch, he had spoken with his wife, his mother and his father multiple times. He was just waiting for me to return so he could tell me he was leaving.
I sat my son down in front of the television and Jon and I went outside. I remember him talking incessantly about nothing for what seemed like an hour while I stayed mute and numb. Numb from my feelings and his words and the cold February wind which he didn't even seem to notice. He was all bundled up and ready to go and I didn't even have a coat on. My God, how that man loved to hear the sound of his own voice. I can't even remember what he could have possibly had to say, but when he was done I told him, "Go home to your wife and your children. Don't half-ass this, either make it work, or leave on your own. Please don't ever contact me again unless you are free to pursue a relationship with me."
After he left, I made sure my son was still happy watching a video and went upstairs to the bathroom. I shut the door and turned on the exhaust fan, then sat on the floor and cried my heart out. When I was done, I went back down to the living room and asked my son to sit on the couch with me so we could finish watching his video together. He was 5-1/2 at the time. After a little while, he turned to me and asked, "Momma, are you sad 'cause your friend left?". I said, "yeah, baby, I am". He took one of my hands in between his two little ones, patting it while he said, "I know, Momma, I liked him, too". Such a sweet little boy.
Within 2 weeks I had let the bastard suck me in, again.
3 days ago
7 comments:
Oh Fance, I'm right there with you.
the babies are ever so precious.
What were you to do? You can't help who you love...
Thanks for sharing. I only hope it makes you feel better.
oh man.
it's true, though, we can't help who we are drawn to.
If only we could.
I just got caught up with your blog (sorry, I took a sabbatical) and I am overwhelmed by your courage. It took a lot for you to tell this story and I'm proud of you for doing it because it's likely been cathartic. Keep going.
Welp... obviously I'm the guy reading this blog that (not being all sexist and crap)is aimed more to girls... and I'm trudging along trying to figure out something to say here, so...lol I'll just spit it out.
This is good stuff. I need to hang out here more.
I apologize for my gender. They're a bunch of buttholes.
I do think it's helpful to "get it out"; keeping something so painful inside is just toxic. Keep writin', Nance!
Such warmth and empathy in your young child. Clearly you have done some things right in life, so don't beat yourself up too much for the things you think you have done wrong. For most of us, somehow, those "red flags" show up a lot better in the rearview mirror than they do through the front windshield.
Aunt Becky: Get in line behind my family.
Post a Comment