Wreckage Part III

I have learned my lesson. I can't ever see Simon again. I knew it was going to be a bad idea to see him in person.

I found yet another box of his stuff in my apartment. Honestly, you'd think I live in a sprawling 2000 sq.ft. condo with the amount of crap I keep finding. Just when I think I've cleared it all out, whammo! I manage to find another box.

I had plans to be up in the Dufferin/Steeles area to pick up a baby shower gift for my coworker, so since I would be three quarters of the way to Simon's parents' house, I figured I do him a favour and drop the box off.

I left a message on his cell phone letting him know that I'd be up there around 6:30pm. He called me back and was sickeningly sweet with me on the phone. It pissed me off so much that I threw the phone down and forgot it in my apartment as I left for Vaughn.

I didn't make it to the store before it closed - damn rush hour traffic! When I went into my purse to grab my phone, I realized I'd left it at home. So I drove to a gas station around the corner from his parents' place and called from a payphone. I asked him to meet me at the gas station. I really didn't want to see his parents again, and I wanted to meet on neutral ground.

Five minutes later he pulled up in his dad's car and the moment he stepped out, I started bawling. He came up to me and started hugging and kissing my face. I was completely paralyzed. The only thing I could do was cry. He kept asking me what was wrong? Why was I crying?

I managed to wiggle out of his arms and grab the box from the back seat of my car. I gave it to him, and then just blurted out, "What did you tell Jordan?"

The answer: nothing. He hasn't told his own daughter that we have split up. That made me cry even harder. I asked him to tell her I love her and to let her know that it's not her fault in any way. To which he said that Jordan wouldn't think such a thing. I reminded him that all kids think bad things are their fault. I thought it was my fault that my mother got cancer and died when I was 9 years old.

I got back into my car and he knelt down at my driver's door and started telling me that he still loves me, and that he will always love me. This of course made me bawl even harder. He said that we should talk and work things out. He said that he's changed and he's got his anger under control. I should call him if ever I need anything.

For one second I believed him. And in that second, my life was good again. And in the next second, I heard my therapist's voice screaming "NEVER AGAIN".

I told him it was too late for everything he was saying. It's over for good.

He got up and walked towards his car and then turned around and said, "We're still married".

I remember thinking "THAT DIDN'T STOP YOU FROM BONING SHANNON". But my brain couldn't get my face to stop crying long enough to scream that at him. I just shut the car door and drove home.

Needless to say, when I woke up the next morning, I looked like I'd been hit in the face with a shovel. Feel free to refer to the post called "Wreckage Part II" to see the effects of crying all night long.

Never again. Never again. Never again. Never again. Never again.

Faux Beau

Since dumping the asshole I called husband, I've been hanging out a lot with my coworker Ryan. As you can tell from the last post, it has been enough to anger Simon and question me about my "relationship" with Ryan.

All tongues are wagging around the office. Apparently no one can understand that a man and a woman can spend a lot of time together and NOT be hitting the sheets.

Okay, that's true to a point with Ryan. We have shared a bed. But we haven't had monkey sex. We were both fully pyjama'd and it was totally out of necessity, as his buddy was passed out on the couch.

It was nice to cuddle with a big, warm, hunk of man. I hadn't shared a bed in 4 months and forgot how nice it can be.

I love Ryan a lot, but in the way I love my brothers. Believe me, I have toyed with the idea of humping him (It doesn't help that he has a hairy chest which is my number two turn on after blue eyes, and he's got those too.), but whenever I think about that I want to cry. I think it's because I need to have some meaningless sex first, before I can move on to any sort of "normal" relationship. But I am SOOOOOOOO far away from being ready for even meaningless sex, let alone letting anyone close enough to me to care about me.

Ryan and I have had a lot of talks about how I'm feeling and where I'm at emotionally. I told him that right now, he's my fake boyfriend. We spend all sorts of time together doing fun things like playing video games and going to the movies, he's always paying for lunches and dinners, we cuddle together and we're planning on going to Cancun the week before Xmas.

But that's it. That's all I can handle. There is no possibility of any physical intimacy. Not even a make out session or mad groping. And Ryan is the most awesome guy I know to be there for me in a way that I think would give most men blue balls.

You may think I'm leading him on, or that I'm not treating him fairly. But that would be true only if I were not absolutely clear with my intentions. He's agreed to the terms of our "relationship" and is in it with eyes wide open.

Wreckage Part II

Simon called me last week. Ironically, I had gone to dinner with a friend the night before and she asked me if he's been in contact since the last screaming match we had over the phone back in August. I said very happily that I hadn't heard from him. Famous last words.

First he called me on the land line. I saw his number and ignored it. Then he called me on my cell phone. Now keep in mind this was 10pm on a Tuesday night. I figured if he was calling just to harass me, he would have done it earlier in the evening. The fact that he was hunting me down alarmed me a bit. And being the sucker I am, I thought there must be something really wrong if he's trying that hard to get a hold of me. So I picked up the phone. Famous last decision.

Me: Hello?

Simon: Hey.

Me: (silence)

Simon: Are you at home?

Me: Yes.

Simon: I tried calling you on the house line but you didn't answer.

Me: That was you? I was in the bathroom and I couldn't get to the phone.

Simon: Are you living with someone?

Me: WHAT?!

Simon: Are you living with someone?

Me: NO! Why on earth would you think that?

Simon: Because the answering machine said "We're not here to take your call".

Me: That's because I haven't changed the message since you left. But thanks for letting me know, I'll change that right away.

Simon: Are you dating Ryan?

Me: WHAT?!?!?!?! What the hell are you talking about?

Simon: I saw the pictures of you [online] at the ROM with him.

Me: SO WHAT?! I am allowed to go to the ROM with whoever the hell I want. And even if I was dating Ryan, it's none of your fucking business anymore. Why the hell are you even calling me?

Simon: Okay okay. Sorry, you're right. That's not why I was calling.

Me: What do you want?

Simon: Can you tell me how to email a text message to my [cell] phone?

Me: Yeah. Hang on, I'll pull the address out of my email.

Simon: (pause) Are you happy?

Me: Do you care?

Simon: You don't have to be nasty!

Me: I'm NOT being nasty! YOU'RE the one who called me and started harassing me! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ARE STILL PULLING THE SAME SHIT.

At that point he hung up on me. I immediately burst into tears and bawled my face off for about three hours. The following photo is what I looked like when I woke up the next morning.

To compare and contrast, here is a photo of what my eyes normally look like.

Lesson learned. He can leave me a fucking message because I'm never taking his calls again.