yearofbecca

This post is going to be a little bit of what I never wanted it to be again. Too much about the ex, but honestly in this instance I need to use that to illustrate a point. The point that while I will never be okay with the way the break up happened; it was absolutely necessary. And the man he was with me, is not the man he is in reality, and if he were himself during our relationship he wouldn’t have had to end it two days after a Christmas spent smiling and laughing and cuddling babies and telling me it was the best holiday ever; I would have ended it long ago.

A friend who will forever remain anonymous sent me a note that he posted on his Facebook. I think she sent it to me because she found it very interesting, but I found it instead very sad. It was a very long diatribe about religion, essential saying if you believe in god you’re an idiot because god as he’s described in the Bible is the most evil creature in history. It goes on and on, I won’t paste it here. I think it was inspired by Lent, but it just comes across and angry, narrow minded, insulting, and just completely unnecessary.

I do not believe in god. That was one thing we had in common. “We both” had our beliefs but respected others and would never criticize someone for believing in Jesus or an Alien or that you get 70 something virgins when you die. Well once again I think that is what I believe, what I expressed, and what he vehemently agreed with. Because he thought that was the man he should be to make me happy. It’s true. I couldn’t be with someone that would so negatively belittle a person for simply believing in god, or religion, or the Bible. He has so many personality traits that have come out over the past couple of months that are just absolute deal breakers for me. Things he compromised that he shouldn’t have. It’s not agreeing to watch Sex and the City and drink cosmos with me one Friday night – it’s pretending you’re compassionate and tolerant of others when you’re not.

It doesn’t even disappoint me. I feel bad for him because I think it’s unhealthy to have this negative attitude toward a belief that more people have than don’t. And while I don’t share any of the religious beliefs, sometimes I wish I did. I see how faith gets people through tragedies, helps them cope with death and loss, and how the belief in a higher power makes people strive to be their best. Humans aren’t perfect and it’s not a failure to do good in hopes of being rewarded in an afterlife. Who cares why – people are still doing good, so just appreciate it.

I am truly happy these days. I’m keeping incredibly busy with friends and family, I’m cooking, I’m having people over, I’m working out (very rarely…but I go), and through it all I am still me. I never compromised anything of myself that I couldn’t have maintained for my whole life. I was prepared to spend hours watching nature shows or at least reading while they were on in the background, but I never compromised a fundamental belief or aspect of my personality that I didn’t truly think was best for me. I question everything now. We had planned to move to the suburbs. It was my dream, but did he even want to? Probably not. I wanted kids and even named them. As luck would have it he absolutely loved the names I picked. Or did he? I hope he can learn who he is, and spend some time with that man. Then he might be ready to introduce HIM to a woman.

Why is sleeping so hard for me! I haven’t had trouble sleeping in years. It’s a struggle for me to stay up until 10 PM normally, and I can usually crawl in bed much earlier and pass out until morning. Right after the break up my mind was racing and I couldn’t stop my thoughts from keeping me up all night, so my doctor prescribed me ambien for sleep. It was such a welcome relief. I was able to sleep through the night and wake up feeling refreshed. Nearly a month later, I knew I needed to ween off of ambien for two reasons; I was building up a tolerance to it and it wasn’t working very well anymore, and I don’t want to be reliant on sleep aids. Weening didn’t work. I tried on a week night which was my first mistake. I was so tired I thought I’d have no trouble falling asleep. I got in bed at 11. By midnight sleep would not come, so I went to lay on my couch and watch TV to pass out. That worked eventually. The last time I looked at the clock it was just after 1 AM and I slept until nearly 2 AM. Then I slept for 10 minute chunks here and there until I had to get up for work. I told my bosses I’d be late, but I knew I had to go into work. I didn’t want to risk sleeping all day and then not sleeping again at night. I stopped and got an extra large coffee from Dunkin Donuts and barely made it through the day.

That day I had a doctor’s appointment and told her my sleep troubles. She offered a couple of suggestions. One was that I just tough it out until my body gets over its reliance on ambien. The thought of spending another sleepless night brought tears to my eyes. I needed to sleep. My doctor wrote me another prescription for a sleep aid that in her words is completely non addictive, but can cause a hangover like feeling. I came straight home from work, watched TV and ate dinner, and stared at the clock. I told myself I could take the medicine at 8 PM. It didn’t knock me out right away. But I watched a bit of TV and by 9:30 PM I was out. I didn’t budge until my alarm went off at 7:30 the next morning. I could barely move. Again I considered calling in late to work, but my employers have been very generous and understanding, and I can’t keep taking advantage. I almost felt worse than the night I didn’t sleep. Would this never end?

The next night I was torn. Do I take nothing and realize I won’t sleep at all? Or take half a dose of my new medication and hope for the best? I chose the latter. I somehow decided half a dose would give me half the hangover, which was better than a whole hangover or no sleep, right? Wrong. I took the pill at 9 PM. I was out by 10 PM, and up at midnight. I slept probably 10 minutes over the next 5 hours. Then at 5 AM finally fell asleep until my alarm went off. It’s been a battle since. I don’t want to keep relying on medication to help me sleep, but I WANT TO SLEEP! Saturday I laid down to take a nap at around 6 PM to be in top form for my friend Tricia’s birthday outing. I woke up at 7:30 the next morning. No meds.  I’m still not totally able to sleep through the night on my own, and I’m pretty tired every day. I am really trying to limit my caffeine too in case it sticks with me until night time.

I think it’s basically going to be a battle, and involve some more suffering. It’s really effing annoying though!

I can honestly say that I am more excited about Valentine’s Day this year than I was last year. Tonight I’m going on a hot date with my friend Peggy to Socca for a special Valentine’s Day dinner. Last year Dave and I were at that awkward stage of dating where we weren’t an official couple, but we were getting close and I think he probably thought asking me to spend Valentine’s Day with him would push us to the next level. Little did he know, the moment he asked me to spend Valentine’s Day with him, the alert went out to all my friends and family. “How do I say no?!” “CAN I say no?” “When should I tell him I think Valentine’s Day is stupid in general and I want no part of it?”

Looking back it took me through March, almost to April to be really happy with him romantically; and to stop just enjoying his company because he’s a nice, funny guy.. If he hadn’t been so desperate to be in a relationship, and if I had had any other guy showing interest in me, I don’t think we would have lasted more than a month. Not that either of us were faking our feelings for the other, but I think we had a dangerous combination of his frustration in the dating scene, and my willingness to keep dating someone as long as they’re a nice guy and keep asking me out.

I’ve never thought that I need to fall in love at first sight, but maybe the fact that it took me a couple of months to even be really sure I wanted to date him, is a sign? Maybe I should have ended our union back then? I think if I had met someone else early on that I liked I wouldn’t have seen Dave again. Within a few months I did truly fall in love. It was no longer that there was no one else asking me out. He wasn’t just Mr. Right Now, he was Mr. Right. But did it take too long? Should I not have needed so much convincing? In the beginning when I was unsure of my feelings and he was already in love; I called all the shots. Not intentionally, but I think he realized he would lose me and was willing to become whoever I needed him to be to be together. I told him things that pissed me off or I didn’t like or were deal breakers for me in relationships, and he rushed to change them. He wanted to be that kind of guy. I’ve touched on this in previous blogs, and I wish I had been realistic enough at the time to have noticed it. It’s hard to recognize in the time, because when someone tells you they love you and will do anything for you, and they are willing to change and compromise things about themselves to make your relationship work, it’s a euphoric and flattering feeling. I don’t know who wouldn’t feel like the luckiest girl in the world for having found someone who will do anything to make you happy. Once I was hooked, several months in, I would do the same for him. Make any changes he wanted that I was capable of; try to change behaviors that bothered him. But I don’t know that we needed to get to that point.

I think Valentine’s Day should have been our last date. I was so uninterested in spending Valentine’s Day with him, and he was so gung ho and excited, thinking it was a huge step in our relationship. While I’ll never regret my time with him, meeting great people and going on fun trips, I think I’ve learned so much now. I can see so many signs that in retrospect should have warned me to end our union so long ago. I know from stories he’s told me, as well as things his friends have said, in the past after one or two dates, most girls he dated said he was a really nice guy but they really just got a friend vibe from him, no romantic spark. I had the same feeling. I had that feeling for months. But for me, I thought he was just such an insanely nice, funny, caring guy who would do anything for me, I had to stick it out and see if the romance would come later. And it did. But maybe it shouldn’t take that long. I’m not talking about being ready to get married, I’m saying it took me 3 months to even know if I wanted to date him or if I was attracted to him. When we got engaged I thought to myself “thank god I gave this wonderful man a chance!”

I still don’t believe in love at first sight, but I do think I learned that in future relationships I will want to feel that chemistry click within a few dates, not a few months.

I go days without thinking about him at all. Or when I do it’s filled with pity and indifference. But so far I haven’t had a day go by without thinking about the kids. It’s the ultimately cruelty, that these kids were ripped from me. Does she still remember me? Does she still talk about me? Can he sit up on his own? Smile? Say a word? Does he have any teeth? Is he eating solid foods? Would I even recognize him in a picture now? I’ve done my best to purge my apartment of pictures because it’s just too hard.

He was relatively easy to get over, but these kids are not. And while I’ve received open invitations from their parents to visit any time, I know I never will. It isn’t fair to any party involved, and it won’t be fair to the kids to have me in their lives sporadically. I don’t think a day has gone by that I haven’t cried for them, while my tears for him ending within weeks. I suppose if anything I’ve learned to be more guarded when it comes to meeting  a significant others family. I sometimes wonder without his family, would I have even fell in love with him? My family is the greatest ever, but they are spread out. I had this built in support system within miles. I had a new best friend, and a future sister in law who had also married into this family and would commiserate with me and my “newbie” stories.  I had a niece and a godson, and I wanted to be a part of all of it. I don’t know if they ever think of me, and I wish I never thought of them.

I hadn’t had a dream about him in a long time; weeks really. Last night I did. In the dream the whole break up had happened and we’d been apart a while, but we were back together. I don’t know how it happened, but we were just back together and trying to rebuild. When I woke up, in that split second when your mind races and you don’t know what’s real and what’s imagined, I was SO disappointed. I was genuinely upset and mad we were back together. He is nothing I want in a husband, I’m finally learning to deal with the shock and realize I’ll never be able to explain how or why he did what he did, and I’m really excited to move on. To be by myself, figure out my own head, and find someone that actually deserves me. As I slowly regained full consciousness and opened my eyes, still cozy in the new bedding that I love so much, I realized I was alone. And I was really happy.

Last night was great. I may or may not have had ice cream, cookies and Champagne for dinner (both low fat) but I will do some serious grocery shopping soon and get back in the kitchen, making healthy fabulous meals for one!

I’m halfway through season 3 of SATC and though I’ve seen all the episodes before, it’s just as good this time around. I really wish that my friends and I had really flexible jobs that allowed us to do 2 hour cocktail lunches every day. Aspects of the show seem to mimic my life, more so now, but obviously extremely exaggerated. I love the fashion, but it makes me sick to think about putting that time and effort into getting dressed and doing my hair and make up for a simple brunch with my gal pals. They’re lucky if I change out of my sweats into jeans. The show also has an element that makes women feel pretty bad about themselves. There’s a single guy on every corner asking one of them out. Most of them turn out to be dirt bags, but I don’t even have the pleasure of turning down all that many dirt bags. But tonight I’m going out for my friend Emily’s birthday, so fingers crossed that I have at least one chance to make a disgusted face and pretend my friend Bob is my boyfriend.

So after a few weeks of my friends taking babysitting shifts or traveling the world, I am deliberately and intentionally staying in alone tonight. Well, I won’t be alone alone. I’ll have every season of Sex and the City that Gwendolyn so graciously lent me last night! I’m excited. I actually had plans for the night and canceled them, because I think I’m ready to be alone, and I’m really looking forward to it. I’m going to eat whatever I want for dinner, watch whatever I want on TV, get as drunk as I want or not drink at all, and go to bed whenever I want.

I’m still not over the shock, and as I’ve said before probably never will be. It’s such a ridiculous situation that I still can’t even believe the last year of my life happened. The tally of items I’m finding and throwing out is growing rapidly, and each time I think “Why can’t we be grown ups about this?” I wouldn’t use his jeans to win him back, or be naive enough to think it’d work (okay…anymore, I surely thought that at first). I have now thrown out or donated ear grips, jeans, socks, 2 tee shirts, 5 towels, 6 CDs, and a pizza slicer. I kind of wanted to keep that, but on principle threw it out. It’s so silly to me. I try to think of him positively and think how he does this to make it easier on me, like any amount of contact will give me hope, but sadly I can no longer give him that much credit. I really think it’s just easy for him to be completely done and gone and not give me a second thought. If he had to see me, or communicate with me in any way for any reason it might bring up memories and he doesn’t want to deal with it. He can be content back to his solitary single life answering to no one, but he doesn’t want to be reminded of anything good, or god forbid have to put effort into something.

My new bedding arrived! I can’t wait to put it on my bed tonight. I also bought all new pillows. I can’t remember which were mine, so I’ll toss all of the old ones. It feels good to get rid of these things, I’m not going to lie. But that doesn’t change me from wishing it didn’t have to be this way.