This weekend, if we were sharing stories about our lives over coffee, mine would be iced, with perhaps a shot of Frangelico. This week has been rough.
School’s fine. I managed to keep things going without a copier to put worksheets together. It’s my personal life that’s in shambles a bit.
Not anything too terrible, I suppose, but when you tell someone you love them, and they tell you it’s inconvenient, it tends to put a damper on your week. When you tell them you’re willing to spend the rest of your life with them, and they tell you it’s not even remotely worth considering because you aren’t worthy of their family… well, it makes you realize that you meant nothing to them.
And that’s what I had to face earlier this week, and keep on going.
So twice now, I’ve opened myself up, really opened myself up to allow love in, and both times the man I wanted let me know that they just didn’t feel anything for me. That I wasn’t worthy of love.
I guess I was right to give him the Ex’s old nickname. They might as well be the same person.
I suppose I just have bad taste in men.
I thought I had found one who was different. Everyone told me he was different. This one was a nice guy. Considerate, and well put together. A guy who knows what he wants… One who didn’t just sleep around, but knew what it was he was looking for…
But in the end, he did what all of them do: tell one story with their words and another with their body language, and then get mad at me when I chose the wrong one to believe.
What’s worse, he called me a liar because I kept having hope that his actions were the truth as opposed to his words. Just like the Ex.
See? They were the same. Exactly the same.
So. What’s a girl to do?
This one’s giving up. I’m 36, and never knew what love felt like until I moved to Houston and started dating the Ex a few years ago. I’ve been used by each of them and then been told it’s my fault by every single man I’ve ever dated. And this one? This was the healthiest relationship I thought I’d ever had…
Only it wasn’t.
He told me that every argument, while I thought we were calmly talking things out, rationally, that wasn’t what was happening. He was just annoyed at me. And he said that I understood social interactions just fine and used my Asperger’s basically like a smokescreen. He said I “played the victim…”
Nothing was real.
All the things that felt so pretty and perfect were just because he didn’t feel anything at all for me and didn’t say anything.
And what’s worse is that he didn’t want our mutual friends to know about us because he was aware that it would look bad.
I always had a bad feeling about that. He assured me that I wasn’t a secret, and that he didn’t care what people thought… And yet, I can’t shake the feeling that he didn’t want people to know because he knew what he was doing was wrong.
So, I went back to Tinder (at his request), and every guy that I meet is just looking for fun. I did find one guy who wants a relationship, but wants to know if I’ll jump right into a relationship with him… I don’t know him, so that’s a bit disconcerting.
I don’t understand how people can just jump into a serious relationship without getting to know someone first. That is what makes this last guy’s situation so illogical to me, since he can just swap one female out for another, without knowing either of them.
I say that because obviously he didn’t know me.
If he had taken any time to get to know me, he would have realized that I do struggle to understand social situations. I am very awkward when I first meet someone and choose to sit back and observe to see how open I can be with that person. He would have realized that I was so open with him because I considered him to be progressive and intelligent and worthy of seeing the inner workings of my brain.
He would have known that sometimes a key part of a conversation gets filed away into my brain and comes back when I’ve had time to analyze what it means and then I need to ask questions until I understand. He’d have known that if a thing isn’t logical to me, I can’t let it go until it makes sense to me.
And that the biggest thing that sticks in my craw as being illogical are when a person’s physical behavior doesn’t match what they’ve verbally said.
It makes that person into a puzzle, and I try to understand them, but if I’m doing something that is “obnoxious,” I won’t “get” that it bothers you… because I don’t get social interactions without a lot of introspection… which I can’t do if I’m trying to figure the other person out.
*Sigh* It doesn’t matter.
He’s let me know exactly how he feels about me, and I let him know how I felt… though he rejected me in every way possible. While it hurts unbelievably bad, I don’t have anything further to say. He might read this eventually, and then maybe he’ll know, but instead, I imagine he’ll just be angry that I put it on a public site. It will never occur to him that in order to honor his wish to be done with me, I have to say what I would say to him somehow. Even if he’ll never see it.
Or that it is of the utmost importance to me that my side be understood, even if it is only to me.
Yes, I know other people read this blog, but at the end of the day, no one really cares about how I feel or what I have to say. It’s just a way for me to vent and to occasionally get feedback, but not from anyone who even knows who he is.
With one or two exceptions. And those exceptions would be people who would hear it from me eventually anyway.
Plus, I don’t really care what he thinks anymore anyway.
I’d already mourned the end of this before it was over. He kept reminding me how temporary things were, though his actions didn’t match. The result, though, is that I had already mourned the end, and am mostly fine now that it is over.
Which I had told him several times over, though he didn’t believe me because my actions didn’t match my words. They were in line with me trying to figure out which was accurate: his words or his actions.
It doesn’t matter though. It’s done. Forever. No matter what.
That’s what I’ve dealt with this week.
That happened early on in the week, and the rest of the week has been me dealing with a horrible stress-induced nausea, and an emotional exhaustion that has made me fairly unsociable.
Yesterday, however, I went to dinner with some friends of mine, and tonight I’m painting, which always makes me feel better. So there’s hope…
In fact, I best put the coffee away and get ready to go paint. I hope everyone else’s week was better than mine.
I love all of you!