Last night, I had a vivid dream where he told me that he had cheated on me –more than once – during our relationship.  In the dream, I went ballistic, screaming, raging and losing all control.  If I remember correctly, I think I may have even broken a few things and threw some punches. I felt completely betrayed and angry as hell.

I woke up troubled. I don’t think he really cheated during our relationship. He swore a vow of monogamy; it was very important to him and I believe he kept it.

But what did my dream mean?  I have two theories.  The first is that he slept with somebody last night for the first time since us.  You know how a mother “knows” when her child is in trouble?  Maybe I just felt it; that last pulling away from me.  It was a Friday night, he probably had a show, it’s very possible – the end to the end.

My second theory is a little more cerebral.  Maybe this was my mind’s way of giving me the chance to tell him off in a way that I’ve never been able to do.  I never had the chance to say my piece.  Remember, he called me at work to break up – and then wouldn’t talk to me afterwards.  Through these months, I constantly vacillate between my feelings about him and the breakup.  While I don’t feel anger towards him today, It’s been in there – and I do feel betrayed.  Maybe this was my brain’s way of letting it all out, safely snuggled between two pillows and my favorite blanket; to scream at the top of my lungs, “FUCKER!!”

Or perhaps he did sleep with somebody last night…it can’t be my concern any longer.

Days since I’ve contacted my ex:  40 Days

Days since I’ve searched for my ex: 20 Days, but every time I hear a car, I still look in the driveway, hopeful to see his car.

What I’m grateful for:  The view from my dining room window, with the sunshine and the birdies picking seeds from the spring grass.

On the Head of a Pin

I scroll through the online personal ads – bad photos of goofy looking guys, bald or baseball capped, a little extra padding or a bathroom mirror picture of their ripped abs.  I pass by stupid screen names like redsoxfan or lover4U or even lickuatthey.  Profiles that are as interesting as the back of a shampoo bottle – I’m a basic guy,  I’m just an ordinary guy, I guess you could say I’m an average guy.  I like sports and John Grisham novels. These tidbits are followed by confessions that they are stooping so low by going online – “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” “We can tell our friends we met somewhere else.” Get over it!

I turn the computer off in disgust.  Is this really what he wanted?  I know he’s on this site, I know he’s looking, but what does he think he’ll find here?  I’ve been there – one too many times. There’s a lot of cute girls on this site. I’ve scrolled through them, picking out the ones I think he’d like.  Cute, funny, interesting girls.  Maybe he’s already found someone cuter and smarter and more adorable.  I, somehow, need to find peace with it.

Regardless of what he’s doing, I wonder why I spend time looking for myself.  I’m receiving five to ten emails a week.  Most don’t interest me (I guess my profile says I respond “selectively”) and the ones that do, well, our “conversations” seem to go nowhere.  I know I shouldn’t be out there yet.  I know I should be healing, working on myself, fixing what’s broken.  But I miss being part of a couple; I miss sharing private jokes, talking over my day, cooking dinner for a table for two, sharing a bed, sharing a morning.  The house is too quiet.

I just want to shut myself down – from wanting a relationship, from looking for a man, from searching for someone who loves me.  The old adage goes, “you’ll find somebody when you stop looking.” That’s Bullshit.  I’ve tried that, too.  I’ve basically been out there for 29 years – I know what’s out there, I’ve seen what’s out there, I know how slim my chances are of finding someone for me – not for you, not for him, but for me.  What I’m looking for could sit on the head of a pin.

I thought I finally found him.  I was wrong.