Life, Love, Sex

Ferklempt

This break-up with Jefferson has me all knotted up inside.

It’s not that I don’t think it’s the right thing. I think it’s right so much more than ever before. I just can’t live with the way he lives his life, or who he is, or how we are together anymore.

I’m feeling bad about how it all came about though.

Chicago was a nice time. It wasn’t spectacular. But it was nice. I knew before we left that it was over. But like hell I wasn’t going to enjoy this trip I’d been planning for 6 months. I was sweet and affectionate though. Because I enjoy being so.

And then he came to my orgy, where I practically ignored him. I think he thinks I was jealous over him playing with Adam’s girlfriend, Rachel. I’m not sure exactly, but he mentioned something about orgy drama. There was no orgy drama. I was concerned with him beating up on her actually since he was drunk off his ass, as usual. No, no orgy drama. Actually I was ignoring him because he spent the previous night with my most hated of enemies. And it takes multiple showers to get the stench of whore off oneself.

But when I e-mailed him last week and told him that I felt I’d out grown him and wasn’t going to pursue seeing him because he no longer had anything I wanted, I think it came a little out of left field for him. Which probably led to the douchebag twitter of his. “ I’m told that someone won’t continue seeing me because I drink and have sex with another woman. Please refer to manual, page one.”

That’s not what I want to wake up to.

So I laid out some truth. I hate his drinking; I hated how his relationship with that whore was taking precedence over ours; I hated how I felt stunted in our relationship. He was a man that hasn’t changed since the day his ex kicked him out 4 years ago.

But I told him I wasn’t breaking up with him. I just wasn’t going to initiate getting together, but if he wanted to see me then I would find time.

So we made a date together to just hang out before my weekly therapy appointment on Wednesday. We were meeting in the park at noon, barring rainy weather or another heat wave.

Well, after coming back from Boston on Tuesday, I went straight to Callie’s and spent the night with her, so I didn’t wake up very quickly after he sent me an e-mail confirming a time. I e-mailed him when I woke up to confirm noon; and then I twittered. And that’s where it all went down hill.

I wrote how nice a day it was and hoped some schmuck wouldn’t ruin it. Not any schmuck in particular.

Well, Jefferson took him to be the schmuck in question and canceled our get together. Leaving me stranded in NYC. Well, he certainly became some schmuck and instantly ruined my day.

I guess it was good that I went straight to therapy. Because even though I was a little dramatic, in actuality, it was barely nothing.

I mean, I blogged (see: Purge), but please, that’s nothing. Bugged him though. And I’m locking my posts and twitters for the time being because I just want him out of my life for a little bit.
I did call him trash. And told him it was definitely over.

I wasn’t hurt by what he did; and I wasn’t disappointed I didn’t get to see him. I was annoyed that I was inconvenienced. I was annoyed that he continued to try and keep control of the relationship- dictating exactly when I would see him and also policing my behavior. Yet at the same time holding me to a double standard. He could twitter something rude about me, but I couldn’t say whatever I wanted (even if the twitter had been about him).

Nuh uh. That doesn’t fly for me anymore.

But I am upset how it all went down. I mean I can’t know for sure, but I’m feeling like perhaps he’s confused and/or hurt. (If it’s possible to be hurt since he has the emotional range of a rock.) I offered to explain why this break-up is really quite necessary. He said he was too busy.

Well ok then.

I have deleted our e-mails. They’ll sit in the trash for the next 30 days, but I don’t think I’ll be recovering them. It’s amazing how that one little step can take a load off your shoulders.

So yeah, I feel remorse that it had to end on a sour note. And I guess I’m sorry if I hurt him. That wasn’t my intention (this time). I did kind of want him to just open his eyes and see what was so obvious. About himself; and us.

He should be more used to being dumped. Shouldn’t he? And shouldn’t I be used to breaking up with men? (It’s what I do.)

I don’t think I’m really allowed to concern myself with his well-being as the dumper.

Any further contact I would make would only be to assuage my own guilt, but probably would only end up causing more drama (Jefferson is a major drama queen (in total denial about it)).

So, the best I can do is write locked posts about being sorry for it all.

And holy crap it’s past 4am.