Ghosts of an ex-boyfriend and a naive me past

Bleh.  I’ve been trying to sit here and write the story I’ve been working on but am being haunted by the ghost of a past boyfriend.  I must write about what is going on in hopes I can finally put this shade to rest and continue the writing I actually enjoy.

I just don’t get it.  It’s been twenty years.  How on earth can someone rationalize seeing my Facebook page, congratulating me on my great marriage and family and then asking me for another chance?

Seriously.  My mind cannot wrap around this one.  “Hey. I see you got a great family and a happy marriage.  I am still in love with you and would like you to give us another chance.”  (I'm paraphrasing of course)

What?  WHAT?!

What part of happily married did he not get?  What a set of entitlements he has!

Am I doomed to have these odd experiences with even odder people over and over again?  Do these things keep happening to me so I have things to write about?  Or am I supposed to realize that life is just a joke and learn to roll with it?

I think I am supposed to roll with it.  That or write one heck of an unbelievable story about my life and encounters.

When he first contacted me I was slightly upset but managed through it.  I do not miss him; hadn’t thought of him.  It was a bad relationship.  I’m not just saying that because I’m suppose to.  Bo was my first boyfriend after leaving home and all I did was move from one abusive relationship to another; from the frying pan into the fire so to speak.

It wasn’t until he made his recent claim on me that I lost it.  I was so angry I could barely function.  Colin and I argued.  Actually, I argued.  There was nothing for me to be angry with Colin about but I suddenly felt like he was treating me badly.  I felt insecure and used.  It took a while for me to realize that I was actually having a flashback of my relationship with Bo. 

I cannot even write here what all went on between the two of us because it was just that violent and abusive.  I wrote it out and read it to hubby who actually said he felt sick.  I’d be lying if I didn’t say I wanted some sort of revenge against him at some point but isn’t living a good life the best revenge?

I thought so.  I really did.  I thought after him seeing my page he’d go crawl back under the rock he came from but he didn’t. He said he wanted me back which pissed me off more than I thought was possible. 

Why? 

Because he made me feel like that 18 year old girl again who fell for all his stupid pick up lines and lies.  Because I was transformed back there to a time I had never allowed myself to think about.  I had to relive all of the crap I endured.  He cheated, he lied, he beat me…he did worse. 

And…I let him.  I kept going back.  I believe him when he said it was my fault. I believed him when he said I wasn’t good enough but maybe…someday.

I didn’t want to be reminded that I was once that girl. 

But now I sit here with a different perspective.  Writing IS my therapy.

I wrote about the abuse until most of the anger and sadness melted away.  It wasn’t my fault that I chose to be in an abusive relationship.  It was all I knew at that time.  I am not the same person now.  I have grown.  He has no power over me anymore.  I don’t need to feel ashamed.  I need to feel proud that I did finally recognize the abuse and the fact that I deserved better.  I need to feel proud that I moved on and grew into a better person.

So, what brought this topic up tonight? He sent out a video to me of a country song called, The Man I Want to Be.  I have blocked him on Facebook and the two emails he’s written me to.  I have also had to delete a mutual friend who, for some reason, believes I should give him a second chance regardless of the fact that I am happily married with kids.  Our friends were the same way back then.  Every time I tried to find refuge when Bo hit me, they would send me back or tell him where I was.  It was like I was his property. 

Then I realized that I haven’t listened to country music SINCE him.  I had avoided the whole genre because it reminded me of that horrible time in my life.  I stopped being that country girl to distance myself from the girl who allowed herself to be treated like that…no more horse rides, no more 4x4’s, no more guns, no more fishing, no more CB radios.  It’s hard to believe I use to do all of that stuff.  And all the people who knew me from then think that I am still that little girl lost…

I am not the same person. 

I seem to learn the hard way.  I seem to learn how to do something by learning what NOT to do.  I thank Bo for teaching me everything a boyfriend shouldn’t be.  I don’t personally think Bo ever loved me but my husband says he believes he did.  All I know is that if I loved someone who was obviously happy with someone else I would not tell them I loved them and wanted another chance.  That is a selfish act and proves to me that Bo is still the same old Bo.

And now…I want to share the last encounter I had with Bo because, to me, it was poetic.
Bo was always able to just call me and I’d come running even if I had work or a date or whatever.  These encounters became less and less frequent as I realized what kind of person he was.  When he called in 94 I had not seen him in since 89 when we officially broke up.

He invited me for drinks.  That was his subtle way of getting me there for sex.  I entered the bar fully intending on having sex with him.  We were, for lack of a better phrase, f**k buddies.  They call it hooking up now.  I prefer “hooking up” to the other because there was nothing buddy, buddy about it.

I walked in the bar and sat down beside him.  I ordered my Jack Daniels and we talked.  He used all the same old tired lines he had used on me from the very beginning.  Nothing had changed.  There was a voice inside my head screaming for me to leave.  I decided to try something.  “Bo if you can answer one question I’ll leave this bar with you, go anywhere you like and do whatever it is you want.  What is my middle name?”  He had to know it.  We dated on and off for years.  I lived with him twice.

“What?”

“What is my middle name?”

He starts laughing and stalling.  “I bet you don’t know my mi…”

“Wayne.”  I knew a lot about him.

He obviously didn’t know my middle name.  I gave him another chance.  I couldn't believe I had been involved with a man for all those years when he couldn’t even tell me my middle name.

“What’s my birth date?

There was more laughter as he started naming off zodiac signs and dates.  “How ‘bout a month?  Can you give me a month?”  At this point I was becoming very angry with myself.

No.  He couldn’t. 

“What’s my birthdate?”

“July 13” I answered him again but I didn't feel smug.  I finally felt the full of force of being an idiot sleeping with a guy who would never, ever love me.

He looked like he didn’t know what to say.  I placed a five dollar bill on the bar for my drink and hopped off the bar stool.  He grabbed my arm.  “Where ya going?”  He said this laughingly but there was that old, stern warning promising bad things if I didn’t do as he said.  I had already decided I would never see him again after this night.

No more hook ups.

“I’m leaving.  Until just now I actually thought you gave a shit about me.”

“Sit back down.”  He was using his ‘angry eyes’.  This form of intimidation use to work on me.

“Good bye Williams.”  I yanked my arm from him.  There was no way he'd make a scene in the bar.  I think he was also jolted because I stood up to him and turned him down for sex.

With that I made my movie exit.  I never looked back.  I weaved through the tables until I got to the door.  I gave it a huge push and felt like I was reborn when the fresh air from the parking lot hit me.  It was the goodbye I had always wanted with him and it is the moment I will hang on to because it’s the most clear picture of our relationship.

Just pretend

Hubby and I are sitting at the dining room table.

Me: You didn’t call me today.

Hubby: What?

Me: You didn’t call me today for break or lunch.

Hubby: (Scoots his chair over close and whispers in my ear) I’m not at work today. (He then scoots his chair back)

Me: I know but you still didn’t call me.

Hubby: (Scoots his chair close and whispers in my ear again) I know. That’s ‘cause I’m not at work today. (He scoot his chair back)

Me: You still didn’t call me. You could just pretend.

Hubby: Fine. Ring, ring, ring.

Me: That’s not your ring.

Hubby: Ring, ring, ring.

Me: THAT’S NOT YOUR RING! WHO THE *%$@ IS THIS? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY HUSBAND?!

(Hubby loses it)

Me: (Singing Hubby’s ringtone for me) I do, want you to know I hold you up above everyone.

Hubby: Hello?

Me: Hi Baby. How are you?

Hubby: Why are you calling me at work?

Me: (Scoots my chair over to Hubby and whispers in his ear) You're not at work today.


*This is how Hubby and I play around. :)

The high road is a steep climb

No matter what anyone says, or doesn’t say, it is not easy to take that high road. I get tired of turning the other cheek or holding my tongue but at the same time, I feel I couldn’t live with myself if I traveled that low road. I feel I need to apologize if I even look at the low road. I just wonder, “Why do so many people not seem to have an issue with it?”

Example? I have a 'friend' who likes to compare our lives.  Actually, he compares everyone’s lives to his own.  Apparently in order for him to feel good about himself, everyone else must be doing badly.  If I am not doing badly then he must criticize me, personally or my marriage, my children and even my beliefs.  This way of thinking does not make me angry; it makes me feel very badly for my friend.  His way is not the way to happiness.  

What does make me angry is that he’ll feel justified in ‘doing something’ to me to take out vengeance. He feels justified in behaving that way to anyone.  He also believes he practices the art of Buddhism while he tells you how stupid you are for thinking the way you think.  He reminds me very much of Otto from A Fish Called Wanda.  I think that is what I will call him from now on; Otto.

Now Otto has many, many secrets that he’s been hiding.  I know them but wouldn’t dare cause him or his family pain by discussing them.  He’s far from perfect but honestly, who is perfect?  However, Otto wants you to believe that he is.  Again, this is not something am angry about.  It is something else that I feel sorry for him for.  How hard is it to live a life where you can’t allow yourself to be anything less than perfect?  And how complimentary to me that he constantly compares himself to me?  

Okay, that was about as much of a dig as I will allow myself but not enough to take it down.  Maybe that’s how it all starts…with a rationalization.

But still…I can’t help but feel horribly sad for Otto.  Just a shift in perspective and I bet he’d be a happy person.  I bet he’d realize he has all life has to offer right in front of him.  Comparing yourself to anyone sets you up for failure.  And if someone can only be happy when someone else is miserable then something isn’t quite right about that person to begin with, is there? 

I digress, I was talking about the high road.  I’ve had others lie to me, lie about me, try to break up my marriage, attack my kids and each time I have tried to do the right thing by approaching them and trying to discuss it like adults.   The thing is no one is going to say, “I am messing with you because I’m unhappy about my life.”  So talking it out with someone never does seem to help the situation any.  In fact the process of being calm and trying to discuss things seems to make these people even more angry.

What can we do?  What can I do?  Logic never prevails because all of these people seem to have an agenda and it’s almost always about them, not me.  My husband and I have a great marriage.  My father-in-law even told the entire family that we have something the rest of them didn’t have and boy…that’s when the fit hit the shan.  Of course, he can’t see that he started a cold war between my husband and his siblings.  They can’t see that I endured attack after attack without saying a harsh word to any of them.  I took that high road…

…but sometimes I wish I had jumped their asses.  Sometimes I wish I had told them to jump off a cliff.  I wish I had stood up for myself instead of just defending myself.  I don’t understand how I could do what I thought was right and yet they still hated on me.  I don’t understand how I can be kind and truthful and people be mean.  I could never do that to someone.  

However, sitting here now, I am proud to say I never, ever raised my voice or insulted anyone.  I took the high road while they not only fought me, they fought me dirty.  They tried to destroy my family.  My cousin tries to tear me up.  My uncle tries to close me out.  My in-laws tried to shut me out.  In reality…all these people have way too much time on their hands and their life is sorely lacking if they give so much of their time and energy to me.  

So, every time I hear about one of them talking crap about me or see their IP number pop up I’ll pray for them.  I will pray that one day they will find happiness and balance.  I will pray they find something positive to do with their lives.  I will pray that they live the words of their Lord instead of just preach or rationalize them.  I’ll pray that they either see their lack of logic and humanity or leave me alone because I’m kind of done dealing with it all.

I can only be pushed so far and I was pushed way past that.  What did I do at that breaking point?  I walked away.  Nothing else.  I simply walked away and did not say another word to any of them.  I turned the other cheek.  I got on that high road and kept walking until I got home.  Now, I also punched a couple of pillows and killed 100’s of Sims in their likeness…but that’s another blog.

I’m finding myself again.  I just had to stop seeing myself through their eyes.

"The great challenge of adulthood is holding on to your idealism after you lose your innocence."  – Bruce Springsteen

Sixteen Years!

Who would have thought that I would ever find balance and true love in a relationship but that's exactly what I did.  After enduring years of sexual, physical, mental and emotional abuse at the hands of  family members and then boyfriends, I was able to finally find someone who loved me for me.  He wasn't bullied by my family.  He didn't listen to the gossip of those hateful people around me.  He didn't leave me alone with my nightmares.  He didn't even let me chase him off.  He pulled me into his embrace and never, ever let go.

Sixteen years later we're still holding hands. All of those who worked against and bet against us need to pay up now because I'm saving up for hubby to meet Billy Joel one day.