Crazy Bitch!

That’s me!

This is the second post I’ve made about my situation. I appreciate your comments, suggestions, and support. Please stick with me! This is a fricken diary entry!

The back story (sorry it’s dark for a minute) is that I am coming out of an abusive relationship. I’ve been with my husband for almost 8, married for 5, extremely challenging years. I’ve been mentally, emotionally, psychologically, and physically abused and manipulated for the majority of that time.... (how the FUCK is that my truth?!)

I’ve made excuses for my husband for years. I trusted he wanted and could get better. We all know how that goes.

So skip to now, I’ve asked for a divorce. I’ve told my friends and family about what’s happening and I have tons of support!!

However. I’m a crazy bitch. I know this is self deprecating and might bother some. But it’s true. Ive always been a little crazy when it comes to men.

Like, obsessive to a certain extent.

That’s how I ended up with a controlling husband. I was attracted to ALL of the attention I got from him. He ALWAYS texted me back. He ALWAYS wanted to see me... and before I knew it, I was under the weight of a man from which I’m still trying to escape.

All this to say...

I’m right back at it.

I met a guy on vacation last week. My girlfriend and I went together but she got sick and I had a lot of alone time... until I met him...

He was at the pool, alone. He had come to the resort alone and wanted some people to hang out with. It was casual conversation and I didn’t think much of it. He was funny and interesting. I invited him to join my friend and I after dinner for an event the beach and he agreed.

That’s when it started. I went to dinner with my friend thinking about this interesting man I’d met at the pool. I felt impatient. Could we get through dinner any faster so that I could go spend time with him?!

After dinner he joined us for the rest of the evening. We all drank vodka sodas, people watched at the “club” and sat out under the stars with meaningful conversation.

We ended up at the beach at 3 am, and he opened up about his divorce, being a single dad, and all kinds of things. He was SO insightful. SO honest.

He asked if I’d like to ride bikes down to the shopping center together the next day.

However, we never made it out of the pool the following day. We sat together for 6 hours. Laughing, having honest conversation, challenging each other. I was myself and he was enjoying my company. And I was experiencing an interaction with a man that was so completely different than what I’ve experienced with my husband.

We invited him to join our dinner reservation to which he obliged. It ended up just being him and me because my friend had made herself sick with too much sun and partying.

It was the most romantic evening I’ve had, maybe ever. Dinner lead to sitting on the beach watching the sunset. At this point my emotions were sky rocketed, having talked about the challenges in our marriages, and recognizing that I needed to really take some accountability and make changes in my life. He took my hand and we sat in silence. Listening to the waves and watching the sun fall below the water.

He walked me arm in arm up and down the shoreline.

I wasn’t alone for the first time in this journey. He was there, too.

We went to the bar and stared at each other. We just sat there and smiled. I fought the urge to be embarrassed and I let him see me as I sat there. We told stories and drank each other’s drinks.

He asked if I’d go back to the beach. He said the previous night had been so special and he wanted to do it again.

So I went to change from my dress. We went to the water and he said he wanted to go in but we needed to hold hands to keep each other safe. We went deep into the waves. They crashed far above our heads and he held onto me.

He’d feel the water tug me away and he’d put both arms around me and would pull me back to him.

Then we grasped hands and floated there on our backs. It was silent. I felt his hand and the water. I watched the moon and the stars.

I was in the dark abyss of the ocean, but I was safe.

We came back from the water and sat on the cabana which is normally reserved for the top tier guests (fancy) and listened to the water. I talked to fill nervous space. I was shaking from emotion and my mouth was running about nothing.

He told me to just close my eyes and listen to the water. I did. I reached over and grabbed his arm. He held my hand tightly with his other arm crossed his body. I could feel his breathing as his arm gently raised up and down as it rested on mine. I listened to the waves and tasted the salt on my lips.

I had stopped shaking. The emotional pit I’d had in my gut for what felt like for ever actually dissipated for awhile, and I rested.

I thanked him for reminding me how I deserve to be treated and for making me feel safe. I told him how nice it was to just be present.

He walked me back to my room at 3am and kissed my cheek. Promised to see me for breakfast.

The next morning was my last morning at the resort. I was eager to see him. He had breakfast with my friend and me. We went to the water one last time.

I felt heavy. I didn’t want to leave and I didn’t want to face my life at home.

I waited until the next day to text him. He was still at the resort and I wanted to wish him a good day. He messaged me back a few hours later with some pictures he’d taken if himself and told me about what he’d been up to...

I messaged back about my day... but didn’t hear back.

I messaged him again on his last day with a funny picture from our time together wishing him safe travels.

Got no response.

I tried so hard to harness my crazy!!

I’m cycling through the grief of my divorce and it’s amazing how much the sadness can hit you with something as small as a meal alone.

And that’s what lead to another text two days later. I sent him a message about how I was alone and things were hard.

Hallelujah! a text back, 3 hrs later. He told me to keep taking care of myself. That things would get better. He was proud of me.

I waited. I waited until late the next day and sent a text. I thanked him for his message. I asked how he was.

Crickets! Nothing. Nada. It’s been a full day since I sent my last message to him.

I’m 12 again. And I’m obsessed.

He’s mature and intelligent and I think he knows it’s best for me if he doesn’t engage the way I want him to. Also he has a full, busy life. I was never meant to really be a part of it.

And my grief is complicated by what I am perceiving to be rejection by someone who really had a profound impact on my life in a short time.

I’m so grateful to have shared my experience with him and so sad that it had to end.

But day dreaming about him, without actual expectation, has been positive for me. It gives me the hope and assurance that I will have the life and relationship that I want, and that I am worth it.

That’s my story. Thank you for reading it.