Blueroses...

[Erin]

OK, I''ll admit it. I''m three minute refreshing.

 

[allycat0303]

Yes. Me too. Can''t help it. It''s been over an hour

Officially studying in front of the computer.

 

[Kaleigh]

On the edge of my seat!!!

 

[mrssalvo]

Date: 10/18/2006 4:08:02 PM
Author: Kaleigh
On the edge of my seat!!!

me too...

 

[blueroses]

Well hey there friends.

LONG time no update! I have been in and out on other threads, but for the most part have been a sporadic to absent Pricescoper for the last several months.

WARNING: LONG-ASS BACK-STORY UPDATE TO FOLLOW.

BOTTOM-LINE SEPARATE THREAD AVAILABLE SHORTLY!!!!!
Cut to the chase: https://www.pricescope.com/community/threads/are-you-sitting-down.52184/

I have to apologize for my cryptic, vaguely crazy-making post back in late August. I know I’ve been “paged” to come back and clarify (dammit!) by Ally, Starset, Fata, Lovey….and I actually hadn’t even seen those last 2 posts of Starset’s and sistagirl’s until this morning.

Anyway, sistagirl was close to right—when I posted that kind of mysterious post (not wanting to jinx anything,) I did think there might be something to report soon. And then, there wasn’t. And I wasn’t in a good place and just couldn’t deal with posting. I was actually all set to do an update anyway this week, but……things have taken a major turn in another direction! I think I need to do a (as nutshell as possible) update.

So back in late June, the separation ended, he wasn’t ready, you all know that part. We had some joint counseling therapy sessions (before I headed out on tour) to kind of handle the mechanics of the break-up…..it was kind of a gradual break-ING up, vs. just a break-up if that makes sense, since it takes some doing after a decade. I was leaving, that was going to be it. Well in that time something kind of interesting began to happen--the “post-mortem” counseling sessions brought about this crazy new level of communication, honesty, trust, falling barriers, etc. between us—it was like getting to the point of realizing we were going to be over and looking at everything he was going to lose sort of validated “us” and set off this sort of relationship epiphany—like something very real had turned over in him. It was very cautious, but I suddenly was like OH, this is “us 2.0,” it could be so GREAT between us. Too bad, huh, ‘cause you’re still not ready and I have to go.

So the day before I am to leave on tour, we had our last session. Our counselor proposes that in light of these changes (the “dominoes” that have been falling)—very much to my discretion, and again, with caution—that it might be premature to end the relationship tomorrow. She poses the idea that we extend the separation by one month—in light of this new way of “being” with each other we seem to have rediscovered (him being so much more open, us talking about his specific fears and roadblocks, him no longer drinking, treating each other really carefully and with kindness and respect and just having fun and laughing)—so that after this mini-extension of time we will have more of a real chance to make a go of it. After seeing this transformation in him and in us—seeing him stretch in ways I’d never seen in almost 10 years—I had to give it a little more. If for no other reason than to know for certain that if it didn’t work that I really HAD given it all under the best of circumstances (whereas before the separation had come under duress, now we’d part really missing each other in a happy way and not an angsty way, if that makes sense.) So I left the next day on tour, but we didn’t actually start our separation cleanly—we had 2 weeks of being in touch via phone and text, etc. (very lovey-dovey like when we were 22, it was sickly sweet and felt SO NICE!)….because it had been so sudden to DO this that we didn’t really get a chance to say goodbye. Anyway., mid-July the separation began again in earnest.

Fast-forward to August. Back from tour for around a week, and we set up “the” appointment. This time, rather than meeting at a neutral spot, we meet at our counselor’s office. I try not to read into this, but on the other hand, the other time left me sunburned and heartbroken, so this can’t be worse, right? I go in, trying to suppress my feeling of impending doom. He says he thinks he’s still not quite ready?! And then…..after about 20 minutes of talking about why, what, *&%$#@???!!! The conversation turns, to quote an 80s song which escapes me. Suddenly it’s like we’re separated by a common language. We’re saying the exact same thing. (Boys are dumb is the theme here.) We want the same timeline as far as getting married. We want the same timeline as far as kids. He’s just assumed that I want both before he does. So all of a sudden the air has lifted and what has started as gloom and doom is something else. So where are we then? Our counselor presents to us—does he think it’s reasonable, then, for him to propose within one week? That was the point of the extension of the separation after all—that I would agree to do it if we would be getting engaged on the other side of it. He says yes. It scares him, but yes. So we have this week together. It’s great. It’s the new and improved us. We go to Bikram yoga together. We walk the dog. We talk about our future. The deadline looms, but feels different this time. This is around the time I post the cryptic message.

Well you can see where this goes. Nowhere. The deadline comes and goes. He gets within about 5mm of proposing, but doesn’t. He says things that are dancing their way around it, but not the thing itself, and after all this time, with his personal history of ambivalence (which btw, is about HIM and his personality and not about me or about our relationship…that’s his issue) I’m not about to assume ANYTHING. A proposal would have had to be clear cut with him or I would always have doubt or insecurities and I don’t want to feel like I pushed it anymore than I already did before, you know? It was devastating, because I knew, 100% without any doubt that he wanted to be with me and spend his life with me. And yet he wasn’t there. I’m sure that probably sounds counter-intuitive and people might say, “well duh, if he wanted to be with her he’d propose!! He doesn’t love you enough to marry you! Get over it, schweethaaaht!” but it’s not that simple—ergo the therapy!! He was dealing with 33 years of overdue issues of HIS own which were totally independent of his wanting that with me. But bottom line: that didn’t make it ok, and that couldn’t make me wait another freaking day. Not anymore.

It was even more devastating than in June, because this time it was much further to fall—I had seen how amazing our relationship could be—we had been treating each other with real care and kindness in a way we hadn’t in YEARS….the last 2-3 years of LIW, are we or aren’t we entropy had made us start to ROT at our core and be so resentful and evil to each other. Taking each other for granted, etc….at least this way, I knew I had truly given EVERY opportunity and couldn’t have a single “what if” left that I might have if I’d just called it a day in June. But it sucked. And I hadn’t let a lot of friends in to the information about the “extension,” for fear of being judged or deemed a sucker or whatever, so I kept a lot of this in. (Duh!) It wasn’t an immediate cut. We spoke sporadically. He was text messaging me frequently about how much he loved me and wanted to spend his life with me. Nice, huh? (Hello, money, mouth, put?) He talked about how now he finally actually DID feel ready and just had to DO it. (This was a first.) But I said I just couldn’t wait anymore. This went on for a few weeks. I considered it “We’re not together, but we’re not totally broken up.” There were a few détente days—we went to wal mart together to buy Mattie a dog bed, took him to the vet, watched Tucker flop on DWTS—had these flashes of “us” and then I’d just get seized by a spasm of WHY am I even TALKING to you, you HAD your choice, you made it by NOT making it, STOP it. GO AWAY.

So finally around 5 1/2 weeks ago It was a Saturday, don’t know the date, that was it. I stopped by his house (at this point we’d only been having contact once or twice a week for 3 weeks or so anyway.) And just said I’m tired of talking about TALKING about our relationship. I am tapped out, empty, done. Don’t call me. Don’t text message me. You know where I stand, and unless you are ready to make that commitment, please do not get in touch with me. I will get in touch regarding putting my things in storage and getting my dog back, but otherwise, do not contact me. And seriously, as we’re standing on his front porch having this (painful but very quiet and civil) conversation, WEDDING BELLS start pealing from the church down the street. He’s shaking his head and saying, listen to that, it’s kismet, what is WRONG with me. I’m like well…Yeah. I have to go.

So I did. And we were totally apart, relationship over, broken up for five weeks. It sucked. It was empty. I was alone at home all of Columbus Day weekend and spent most of it in the same pair of pajamas watching an all day L&O SVU marathon. Oh, fun fun, also had a serious injury during this time—a handle BROKE OFF a pot of boiling water and I got 2nd degree partial thickness burns on my left foot and right thigh (I have gnarly pictures but I’m afraid they’re too gross for PS) on 9/29. So that—and the plane into the building (4 blocks from his parents' apartment, aside from sending me back in time 5 years into PTSD land as I’m sure it did many NYers)—both were rough things to deal with without picking up the phone to call him. But I did not contact him a single time. I was a good little blue poodle. It didn’t feel real, but it was like chugging up a hard hill and I was reaching the top and getting close to rounding the cusp. Like, I was beginning to accept that this was my reality. I didn’t *like* that this was my reality, but it was what it was.

Well. Life can change really. Really. Fast.

I had a therapy session Friday. We talked about how it was really time to make that final cut by getting Mattie back and getting my stuff out of his garage and into storage. I had done the legwork and had a storage space all picked out and was going to call him on Saturday to figure out the logistics for transferring the pooch and the stuff.

Friday night I went to bed early for me and was already asleep at 10:57 when my phone beeped with a text message. Something in me somehow knew it was him. I got out of bed and it said “Got a few minutes for a guy?” Had I been awake I would have waited to respond or perhaps even not responded at all, but in my half-asleep (more intuitive?) state I wrote back “Tomorrow. Sleeping now.” He wrote back ok, and that he was sorry.

So I’m of course, then wide awake. I know what this COULD be about but I’m not even going there. This could be, hey, I’m going out of town, can you take the dog. Or- I’ve taken up the hula, I bought a house, I hate you and wanted to officially break up in person, I’m gay, I’m a robot, I mean, whatever, I’m being silly but I was trying to think of any other reason that he could be wanting to get a few minutes of my time when I had said DO NOT CALL ME--unless.

Saturday I have a girlie day w/ my friend….we had a “date” at Nordies to have our make-up done (it was an event thingy) and had dinner. No word from the boy. The last message had been from him, so I wondered if he expected to hear from me. I thought, let him wait.

Sunday, (insert heavy audible sigh and bitchy business-like tone from me) I text message him “So. You wanted a few minutes?” He writes “Can I see you?” I write “I suppose. Briefly. I can meet you this afternoon. Why.” Jokester writes back “Let’s just say I could tell you but then I’d have to kill you” Oh. Great. I’m SO in the mood for THIS kind of yukking it up after 5 weeks of nothing between us, right??!! Anyway, we agree to meet up after I get done with a Costco run, he will meet me at our local coffeehouse.

I go, get a mocha and a scone and am making myself busy doing some work. He comes in. He looks terrible. (Like, he’s been sick and stressing himself out of eating and lost 5 pounds terrible.) We chitty-chat, talk about my foot, our friend with an 11 month old who’s pregnant again, blahblah. He asks if I’ll go over to his house, I sigh heavily, WHY, he says he wants to talk to me. So I agree. (It’s 2 blocks away)

I go in, my geriatric senile poodle is wandering around, candles are lit...............

https://www.pricescope.com/community/threads/are-you-sitting-down.52184/

 

[allycat0303]

Blueroses...I am going to *oops the poodle is suffering from a terrible, crazy attack from a rabid cat with horns* Oh honey. I have tears in my eyes. I do. It''s horrible and so....so real. Please bottom line. I''m just going to croak. (or you are

) one of us has got to go.