jiltedbride

The is so much that I refused to see that has caught up with me.  I clung to my perception of the love we share, refusing to see how much it was actually distorted.  This last year, I finnaly found out who he truly was.  For years I have loved a gentle, shy, loving man who loved me back.  I pictured us fighting for our love, us against any obstacle, as if those obstacled were outside of us.  sure, his parents never accepted me because I commited the crime of divorcing an ubusive man who spent his day swearing at me, spending the milk money and flirting with other women.  In contrast, because of an apparent shyness, I never thought that Mark would seek out other women, it never even entred my mind.  We had our ups and downs but had finally reunited as we missed eachother so much.

When we reunited, we laid ou cards on the table and he knew I wanted a commited relationship.  We celebrated with a trip to Italy and I was on cloud nine.  A few months later, Mark asked to come back hom and move in.  We had such great plans, picked out furniture and decorated.  It was wonderfull to see him so involved.  I just wished I could spend more time him: he was finishing a ESL certificat wich took a lot of his time, and yoga classes...I was initially thrilled that he went to gym at lunch be he ended up booking his evenings with other things.  I just missed him.

When he asked me to be his wife, I was so happy that he finally was completly commiting to us.  I felt as if I had won the lottery, the jack-pot.  I got him a ring too as he said he anticipated waring it.  We had our whole lives to love and support eachother. I was on cloud nine.  

From heaven, I was thrown into hell.  Is it because his parents didn't approve?  Or because I complained about the lack of time we spent together? No, it's most likely that is because his heart had never wanted me to his wife; he sais he asked me because he thought itwould make me happy but in fact it actually stressed him.  He didn't want to marry me anymore.  "do you, Mark Aina, take this woman to be your bride?" No.

I won't detail what it felt like: the rest of this journal does so but the same key that unleached this pain opned Pandaora's box to all I didn't know.

Gruelling months of tears landed me at the doctor's office: as he dropped me off, he ran to a personnal training client but didn't train her.  He went to her place, gave her a massage on her bed, kissed her and God knows what else happened.  I found out and he swore it was the first time and that it would never happen again.

Then he stated flirting and secretly emailing his parent' s tenant, telling how beautifull she was, sharing with her thoughts, memories and feelings he never confided in me.  when I found out, he swore he would break all contact but didn't.  He continued wrtting to her and most probably seeing her when he visited his parents.  It was only when he saw that she was no so discreet about their flirtation that he stopped.

During this time, I found out he had several singles add on the internet., dating back untill 2001.  He basically had always sought the attention of other women but didn't want mine.  his justification is that it was just a release on the Net, that I never planned on meeting any of the women he met and chatted with.  

I tried so hard to get pass everything but everytime I thought I could climb this mountain, it kept growing.  I just didn't trust him anymore and asked him to leave. The next day he started buying furniture to move into his condo, a condo he bought alone instead of buying the house with me.  Then, something magical happened.  Was is the relief from all the pressure we had applied to our relationship tp make it work?  We spent to most loving, affectionnate week, talking and sharing.  We decided to give us another chance. It was just wonderfull, just not wonderfull enough for him to cancel his purchases.  He furnished his condo and started buying household items. The next month was supposed to be our last try but he spent it preparing his departure.  in fact, the very second I told him he could stay, all the loving tenderness stopped and he tried to pick a fight with me.  So he left but we kept seeing eachother.

one day, he came by and I was with a male friend that he knew.  Because i touched his shoulder, Mark assumed I was sleeping with him.  he proceeded to chatting with a girl and started talking about going out with her.  I just couldn't beliieve it, or him!!!!!!!

I tried and for a few weeks after that last stray, he made huge efforts but the pain of it all kept surfacing.  He called me last Friday and I was crying. He said he was reading "Stop walking on eggshells" a book about living with someone who suffers from Boderline personnality disorder, saying that it helped him understand our entire relationship.  With all due respect to BPD sufferers, the roller-costers in this relationship were caused by events, my feeling of rejection quite justified, so as my anger. He broke up with me noblely, saying he didn't want me to suffer and went on date that very evening with a gril 15 years younger than him from whom he had purchsed used furniture a month before.  Twelve hours after ending a 7 year relationship.  The next Monday he said it was nothing, in Ross's tone "we were on a break" and we said we had to think.   He said she was a "tugboat" and that he wasn't attracted to her.  i think that since he never transitionned from beeing a guy to beeing a man that he cowardly sought out a young girl to maintain his Peter Pan personnality aka he doesn't want to grow up.

He called me and we had what I thought was a civilized breakup: It's obviously over, I'm sorry for hurting you and good luck.  I was at peace.  The next day, he wrotet tp say that he loved and missed me and asked what my fears were.  I made the mistake of answering back and wrote respectfully about the lost trust, perticularly concerning other women.  I actually felt some kind of hope that he really loved me.  He wrote back the next day with gallons of venom, stating that anyway, he had never been happy with me,  that because he associate disapointing his father with disapointing me that he saw me as his persecutor during our entire relationship and that the only reason he endured so much suffering as my victim is because he loved (past tense) me. Wow.  It's flabergasting to me that this is what is walking away with: what about the good memories, the love?  They seem to pale in comparaison to "his" suffering.  I'm not saying that he's not entitled to feel some hurt but the ratio seems sad.  I loved him for years and it had no impact on him: my love, devotion, pampering, nothing...His crual words robbed me of any good memory or residual caring; i can't everlook back and smile at "happier times" since he clearly stated that he had never been happy with me.  What a cheap shot...I wish he had left it to our phonecall but a friend made me realize that it must have been fake on his part. At least this cruel blow had the positive effect of severing my tie to him.
This is the end...of my suffering, of wasted energy, wasted hopes, wasted love. I very much look forward to the day that this entire experience will be a faint memory and all I recall are the lessons learned.

If only I could fastforward this process.

I miss the good, loving man I thought he was, but not the scopion king who was ready to trade me in for a younger model 12 hours after ending it with me, nor do I miss the liar who craved over and over other women's attention but not mine, I won't miss the empty promisses, the rejection and betrayal but it stills stings.

For anyone who was so mislead, who stayed far too long in a unrequited relationship, who was batrayed and hurt, I leave this journal with a quote and a tale. the quote is from Maya Angelou:When somebody tells you who they are, believe them the first time. I heard it but did not understand it up until now. Perhaps it is best illustrated byt the following tale:
The Scorpion and the Frog
One day, a scorpion looked around at the mountain where he lived and decided that he wanted a change. So he set out on a journey through the forests and hills. He climbed over rocks and under vines and kept going until he reached a river.
The river was wide and swift, and the scorpion stopped to reconsider the situation. He couldn't see any way across. So he ran upriver and then checked downriver, all the while thinking that he might have to turn back.

Suddenly, he saw a frog sitting in the rushes by the bank of the stream on the other side of the river. He decided to ask the frog for help getting across the stream.

"Hellooo Mr. Frog!" called the scorpion across the water, "Would you be so kind as to give me a ride on your back across the river?"

"Well now, Mr. Scorpion! How do I know that if I try to help you, you wont try to kill me?" asked the frog hesitantly.

"Because," the scorpion replied, "If I try to kill you, then I would die too, for you see I cannot swim!"

Now this seemed to make sense to the frog. But he asked. "What about when I get close to the bank? You could still try to kill me and get back to the shore!"

"This is true," agreed the scorpion, "But then I wouldn't be able to get to the other side of the river!"

"Alright then...how do I know you wont just wait till we get to the other side and THEN kill me?" said the frog.

"Ahh...," crooned the scorpion, "Because you see, once you've taken me to the other side of this river, I will be so grateful for your help, that it would hardly be fair to reward you with death, now would it?!"

So the frog agreed to take the scorpion across the river. He swam over to the bank and settled himself near the mud to pick up his passenger. The scorpion crawled onto the frog's back, his sharp claws prickling into the frog's soft hide, and the frog slid into the river. The muddy water swirled around them, but the frog stayed near the surface so the scorpion would not drown. He kicked strongly through the first half of the stream, his flippers paddling wildly against the current.

Halfway across the river, the frog suddenly felt a sharp sting in his back and, out of the corner of his eye, saw the scorpion remove his stinger from the frog's back. A deadening numbness began to creep into his limbs.

"You fool!" croaked the frog, "Now we shall both die! Why on earth did you do that?"

The scorpion shrugged, and did a little jig on the drownings frog's back.

"I could not help myself. It is my nature."

Then they both sank into the muddy waters of the swiftly flowing river.

Self destruction - "Its my Nature", said the Scorpion...

Mario Pelchat
Je ne t'aime plus


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Tu n'as rien vu
Qu'une femme qui voulait te prendre
Tu n'as rien vu
Mes failles mais pas mes gestes tendres
Rien entendu
Quand j'essayais de te comprendre
Damner, condamner tes démons
T'es disparu

Tu n'as rien vu
De l'amour que je respirais
Mon âme à nu
Je l'ai révélée sans regret
Tu n'as rien cru
Tu m'as largué comme un déchet
Comme on méprise sans raison
Un détenu

Tu n'as rien su
De ma douleur et de mon sang
Qui ne bat plus
Que pour inventer tes serments
Des coins de rue
Où je t'espère où je t'attends
Ta peau, ton corps et ton prénom
Et ça me tue

Il a fallu
Que tu t'éloignes de ma porte
De ma vue
Pour que je laisse une cohorte
D'inconnus
Alimenter mes nuits, mes jours
Pour protèger mon propre amour
Et mon salut

Tu n'as rien vu
Mon souffle et ma voix qui déraillent
Ne donnent plus
Mon cœur qui craignait la chamaille
A survécu
Quand tu m'as livré la bataille
A coups de haine sans pardon
Sans retenue

Je n'ai pas su
Te posséder te retenir
Je n'ai pas su
Trouver la force d'en mourir
Je n'ai pas su
Trouver les mots pour te le dire
Pour en finir et pour de bon
Je n't'aime plus

Je n't'aime plus
Tu l'as cherché tu l'as voulu
Je n'taime plus
Je suis crevée, je suis vaincue
Je n'ai pas su
Trouver les mots pour te le dire
Pour en finir et pour de bon
Je n't'aime plus
Je n't'aime plus
Je n't'aime plus

Despair

I'm gasping not for air, but for him...will this boundless void be easier to fill than a mortal wound was to heal? I wish I could just remember the betrayal, the lies, the convenient omissions, the cold feet and frozen heart I tried so hard to melt...But my tears reflect the good there once was, the love I felt from him felt so real: I couldn't tell it was just a well orchestrated illusion. I'm trying so hard to hold on to memories that never were: he raped my heart with his lies and I'll never know what was real and what wasn't. But I remember floating...

lost in grief by Andrew Sidwell (with photo)
July 15th, 2006 at 14:28 (allpoetry.com, poetry)

a body worn in, a soft pink pallor;
a mind in distress and a face without glamour.
her eyes lifeless,
with dread for tomorrow.

but when she sleeps, under soft white sheets;
a mind unwinds and a white heart beats.
her breaths full,
unworried and free.

thoughts of old friends, lost family and then
just as she is lost in love and joy
the night ends. she groggily wakes
and back return the pains and aches.

He is oblivious to my despair. I grieve!!!!!!!!!!!

I painfully remember how things used to be, or as I sadly realize, how I perceived them to be. I miss to happiness I once felt, the passion, the joy , the hope, the dreams. I remember the insatiable thirst he had for my kisses, as if they were the vessels the gods had chosen to bring him ambrosia and nectar. I remember his hunger for me, aching to be close to me as me to him, always more, now, again. I miss his lips grazing my spine, his breath exhilarating my neck, his hands quivering in mine...It felt so fulfilling to be constantly desired, loved. I was so blinded, intoxicated, bewitched: how could I have been so blind? I mistook lust for love, today for tomorrow, promises for truth and lost myself. What I miss most of all is when he rested in my arms, quenched, fulfilled as I was; I wanted to stop time in it's tracks and stay in those moments forever but they are now gone in the blink of an eye. Now all has changed and seems lost within him. The fire has gone out, the well has run dry and I don't understand how or why. I was his Gaea but now feel as if I was reduced to the dust on a grain of sand: invisible, unimportant and unwanted. Trapped in his tornado of betrayal, I cry out in despair and gasp...as Samson to Delilah: Why? Why when I loved you so much, did you choose to betray me?

After all this time, I can't believe the pain is still so gripping, paralyzing me in this horrific situation of complete hopelessness. I recently found out he had been chatting away and posting himself on singles websites, as far back as august 1, 2002 (when I bought my house). SO as we traveled, camping, visited the maritimes, made love (or so I thought), had b-day parties, told eachother how much we loved one another, sought solace in eachother's arms, all that time, I was beeing fooled by a selfish, self-centered, insecure mama's boy, lying son of a bitch.

I clearly have no judgment whatsoever if I could trust him. I wasted so much love, energy, life, invested so much and now am fully bankrupt. I'm out. I'm out of hope, energy, self-confidence, I betted it all and I lost it all and hate him so much for it. Why didn't he cherish all that? Why didn't he cherish me? What makes me so unlovable when complete idiots can be loved? After all, isn't he the biggest moron of all and it wouldn't hurt so bad if I didn't love him...and hate him so completely. WHy did he come back in my life to inflict so much pain onto me: is it so much more entertaining than screwing a different slut every week? Acting to serve only his whims and desired with no thought to consequence, without flinching while he destroyed my life and right to happiness? Without taking responsability.

I told him how much I now dread Valentine's day, day on which he said his worse fake promise...and all he said was: maybe you can spend it with your friends, like on our non-wedding day...I wish he could know this level of pain for a least a whole day, I wish he could feel the betrayal but he has no heart to wound.

So Love is ruined forever for me, poisoned irreparably. How could I possibly trust again, believe again, bet again on something I wanted so badly but didn't want me. It's over and that hurts. I could have sex but could never make love again, have a lover but not a husband,perhaps share affection but not passion, make plans but not build a life with someone, grow old but alone, truly alone, just waiting for death as suicide isn't an option when you have children. If only I had robbed a bank, the sentence would not be as harsh...

Everything is ruined. I loved him with innocence, passion and eyes wide shut. My heart has been broken; beyond repair…

I hate him so much for doing this to us. Anything and everything we had to fix could have been without it being at my expense and at the expense of our relationship. What’s the point of fixing something once it’s been shattered?

I hate him for being such a coward and for letting his parents poison his heart. If only he had valued us and our relationship, he would have protected us, but no. He chose to hurt me to save himself from the wrath of his parents: not my knight in shining armor…

I hate him for not loving me enough. I hate him for his disdain of a life with me, for fearing it as if it was a life sentence. Screw him.

I hate myself for trusting enough that he gained access to the most vulnerable part of me and I hate him for inflicting so much pain on me and ripping my soul to shreds. I hate him for purging me of so much love and tenderness and filling me with so much hurt and rage.

I hate him for taking me for granted and watching me cry without remorse. I hate his cold little heart.

I hate him for all the false hope he makes me believe him and the thousand hoops he made me jump trough in the hopes that it would prove to him that we were real.

I hate most of all the fact that not once in these months of shear hell and maddening pain, not once did he regret his decision, that he prefers to make me suffer a pain so raw that it’s subhuman, to ruin us forever, that all that was preferable to a lifetime of loving me and being loved in return. It’s sickening.

Well I've definetly moved from sadness to anger: that's over 6 months just to move from stage 1 to stage 2!!!!! How long will this grief last???

I'm juat so revolted, angry, disgusted with the whole situation. I hate this process, hate dumping on my friends, hate this fragile and moppy and ridiculous girl I've become and of course, I hate Him. There's no winning, pleasing, coping, resolving with Him. It's like talking to a wall or one of those British guards, always on his gard, never letting me in...

How many ways must he reject me? After six years and all this anguish, I still haven't earned my stripes.
ENOUGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The end of this process might be the end of us; maybe that's why I'm stalling.

Acceptance. Is it the last stage of grief? I hope so.

I have witnessed the passing of D-Day, hoping for a miracle, some last minute divine intervention that would fix it and make it all better but no. The date is now in the past and I don’t know where that leaves my future.

I went biking with Him. I believe that when Life sends you a message and that you refuse to hear it; it gets louder until you do. I got a Bang! On the way back from our back-breaking ride, I felt chest pains and had to stop. Alone. You see, he never looked back to notice the distance that was gradually separating us as I felt ill, nor did he return to enquire about me. Just didn’t care enough to worry. When I caught up with him over 20 min later, he insisted that he was merely going at 20km/hour: what more could I have expected? At that moment, I finally felt, saw, heard and understood it all at once: he has affection for me but clearly isn’t madly in love with me. I think he might have been at some point but no more. So who could blame him? Would you marry someone you weren’t madly in love with? I wouldn’t.

I’ve grown so weak, so tired of hoping; it’s time to let it go. I can’t say it hurts any less but at least it might be less draining. The pain is just as raw but I conceal it better. What else can I do but bury it? I’ve tried and failed in healing it. Enough. After putting all my love, devotion, energy, time, hopes and dreams in this fake basket, I now choose what feels real to me, good for me. I will treat myself how I longed for so long to be treated by the one I love: with love, priority and wanting only the best for myself. I wished so hard to be not only loved but cherished: that distinction is hard to grasp outside of love but is natural when you overflowing with it.

I’m reconnecting with my Muses: I’ve neglected them for far too long. I have indulged myself wish a new easel, wonderful books, upcoming spa treatments and will soon replenish myself with a floating bath and massage. My friends have also proposed that I join them in an ongoing role-playing game: a welcomed escape from the distorted reality I have crafted for myself.

The constant, agonizing pain I have endured these past months was like being chewed alive by the jaws of death. It’s time I learn to live again.

But the road is long...yesterday, we went back to our dance lessons. as it was break time, our teachers were presented with a cake to celebrate their 30th wedding anniversary and almost heard God himself laugh so hard...tormenting me. I grieve all over again at every reminder of what eludes me.

I sprent the dreaded day with wonderful friends who devoted their whole day to me. ALthough the initially plan was to watch movies all day, most of it was spent talking. I poured out my frustration and pain and with the guidance of a new friend, came to realize that I hadn't taken severall variables into account before reaching my heartbreaking conclusions. This filled me with hope.

The following day, I wanted to share these thoughts with Him. Wanting to respect him, I asked him to tell me when he would be ready to talk about it. I was enthousiastic and happy and although I explained this, he postponed hearing anithing about it as late as possible, as if resolviong our issues was his last priority. finally, half asleep, with his eyes closes, under the blankets, he told me to say what I wanted to say. I tried but talking about it in such circomstances made me feel so unimportant and foolish...it just sucked all the enthousiasme from my soul.

And then, yet another blow.

I had finally understood why he rejected the idea of marriage: he feared that the effort we mutually put in the relationship might me relaxed, creating problems and friction: a big black hole, as he described it, unknown and negative.

He added that he feared we wouldn't make it and that it could end in divorce, said he wants us to work out but isn't sure and not to take this personnaly either because it would be the same with just any girl. I guess there's special about me, or us. I should be building what exactly on this foundation of Jell-O? I give up...

My new friend may find his caution lucid and might encourage to seek the deeper meaning behind his words but the truth is, the more I dig, the more I find, the more it hurts. My developped pavlovian reflex is simply discouraging me from further attemps.

In Star Trek Generations, in an effort to understand what is happening, Picard goes to Guinan. She tells him that the energy ribbon, called the Nexus, is a temporal anomaly moving through space. To anyone or anything inside the Nexus, linear time has no meaning and a person can experience anything that he or she desires. There is an overpowering feeling of joy so addictive, that once there, no one wants to leave. Soran is desperate to return to the Nexus and recreate that joy with the family he lost when his world was assimilated by the Borg.

I too want to go back.

I remember the joy of beeing wrapped in what seemed to be love. I recall that my first thought of the day was one of delight because he laid next to me.

The constrast between what was then and now is so brutal, cruel...I crave my Nexus knowing it won't come back. It's as if I'm stuck in an alternate reality, wanting to scream through my tears: this isn't how it's supposed to be!!!!!!!! I just want to go back....

Earlier today, I recalled a cheesy T.V. movie starring Loni Anderson. She played an evil stepmother to a crippled boy. The child would swim regularly with his father monitoring him from a small boat which filled the evil stepmother with jealousy. Yet she pretended to love the boy who was oblivious to her shallow feelings. One day, she took the boy for his swim but as he began to tire out and ask to come in the boat, she wouldn’t help him. Fearing that her new husband might be watching from a distance, she jumped in the water and the boy, trusting and forgiving, opened his arms toward her in fear of drowning. She grabbed him but only to push him downwards to his death. This is what being abandoned by the one you love feels like.