Woke Up In A Cold Sweat

I didn’t go to work yesterday. I didn’t eat or drink. I lie in one position all day in bed. Sometimes I was awake and sometimes I was asleep.

I cried mostly.

I know I can live without Bennett. While my actions or behaviors seem foolish to many, somewhere deep within me there is a person way to guilty to give up on life. And a good life at that. I would never leave my children

The rest, however, seems less important.

I put everything I had into believing in Bennett and his false-truth. No one had ever cared for me like that. He was everything I dreamed of from a young age, manifested in my middle age. I felt immense relief in meeting him, that I could have that idealized partner for me. I felt validated that dreams do come true. I didn’t realize it until now how much I actually sold my soul over to his lies and my utter hope in our union. Foolish, yes. But there it is.

16 months. The last 5 were horrible. It should have ended in May.

I have started to do some reading.  The thing is that I “know” all this stuff, I just don’t put it into action, ever.

I glanced by an article about meeting someone who filled some childhood dream (this is exactly what happened to me) and now I can’t go back and find the term or the article.  I’m so mad, I read it when I was sleepy and it seemed very interesting. The basic philosophy was that we all have ideals or successes we try and reach in various areas of our life. My girlfriend said I loved Bennett because I saw in him husband/father combined, which my x wasn’t. She is on to something there. I wish I could find the damn article.

I’ve been dwelling on the things I know I need to address, but seem to go in circles with:

  • Contact with him brings a weird form of temporary relief, but it ends up in shame.  I don’t understand why I want to feel shame.
  • I am trying to understand how he feels and change how he feels – I need to stop caring what he is doing and why.  Why do I care so much?
  • I have to work past the voice in my head that tells me I need him.  It’s not my best voice.  Its sad and pathetic and desperate.
  • My anxieties and insecurities don’t necessarily reflect what’s really going on or what he’s thinking or feeling.
  • Recognize that this comes from someplace in me. It’s not just that this guy is a jerk. I found him and accepted him, even though there were signs that it was bad. I have to look at my own history.
  • I had an unrealistically high perceived value and perceived probability of this relationship.

There’s some profound way in which I don’t feel loved here, but it’s very hard to be able to say, “You just don’t give me what I need. Or appreciate me. Or know me.” Or, “It doesn’t feel good for me to be with you.” It takes a long time to accept that how one feels about that is legitimate, and that the implication is that I don’t belong with him. I just can’t seem to accept this as a fact where he already has.

All the months and times I was ready and he wasn’t I was the fool to stick around. Now that he’s got his balls back and doesn’t feel the same he’s ready to go and it’s me who can’t accept the inevitable.

The confusion around being mad at myself, mad at him and feeling lost and pathetic is draining me. Work helps. It’s the only thing that does. But, truth be told, it’s hard to focus. My head is a mess.

This is the only place I turn to let it out. I’ve stopped talking about it to anyone. There is no point. I’m broken. I haven’t learned how to detach from bad situations. I don’t manage adversity well. And as much as I sound like a sore loser, it makes me crazy he lays his head on his pillow in his comfy marital bed with his wife oblivious to any of this.

I was so proud of myself over the course of the past 6.5 years, I had moved through some of the most challenging times of my entire life and was making a way for myself. I thought I could manage his grief because I did it with Bobby, but that was pretty stupid, wasn’t it? No one is better at deluding me than myself.

I fell to sleep with all of this on my mind, I had taken some light sleeping aids but my mind was too tormented. I woke around 4am in a sheer ice cold sweat. I was genuinely scared. I can recall feeling that when my mom died and I would wake up and suddenly remember she was gone, gone for good. It was that exact same sensation. I don’t recall feeling that with Bobby and this scared me wide awake and with a feeling of dread and anxiety.

He’s gone, gone for good. I have to accept that as surely as I have to accept death and taxes.

I considered, for a hot minute, to up my anxiety meds but I can’t afford the dullness they bring to me. I need to be on all the time at work. It’s just too important to lose the edge I have gained. I wish there was a magic pill. The forget Bennett pill.

Hypnosis, maybe?

Lobotomy, more likely.

Today is a Sad Day

It’s pouring rain here. It’s a good day to be sad, I suppose.

I was diagnosed with Iron Deficient Anemia not long after my blood clot episode late 2015. For a while, I went through the ups and downs of my body depleting the iron and then getting iron infusions to replace it and feeling great on the weeks that followed.

I was getting sick of the cycle so I asked my doctor if we can test more often to do a pre-emptive strike. I can totally tell when I begin to drop iron and would prefer to get the infusion when I start to feel tired instead of when I am drop dead exhausted.

For me the exhaustion also leads to uncontrollable emotional states. Not a good place to be. If I’ve learned anything in my first 50 years it’s that I must be very careful dropping into depressive states because they are dangerous not only to me but those around me. I’ve been too close to being some story you read in the paper about a woman who is “temporarily insane” due to PMS or some such. For those of you without any kind of depression or anxiety issues, this sounds crazy – why can’t these people control themselves? The fact is, when it gets that bad I lose not only control but inhibition. I don’t forget the social rules or mores, I can just ignore them. Just like that. And I’ve also learned I don’t have a lot of guilt – I don’t relate the the wives of the men I’ve had affairs with. I don’t feel empathy or remorse. I’ve been called sociopathic by some of the “scorned wives” early on in my blog, but I’m not. I would need to lack remorse when I’m in control of my emotions as well as when they are out of control. Fortunately, I have a lot of empathy and remorse when my head is screwed on properly.

Oh boy am I struggling right now.

Before I started to travel in September I asked my doctor for an infusion. Things were tough at work, the relationship with Bennett was in full failure stage and I was drained. I can’t quite equate this level of exhaustion to anything in my life except my bout with Mono. I had Mono as an adult around 2006 or so. With the Mono I was so exhausted I couldn’t leave the bed and there weren’t any emotional influences. It was just physically impossible to move and it came on relatively suddenly after a case of pneumonia. This is a slow drain, with no warning the end is coming.

This time however, my blood showed something different. Maybe I have pernicious anemia which can be fatal but easily treatable. The difference is that with the iron deficient anemia I should balance out after menopause but the pernicious anemia would require lifelong treatment. It could be something as simple as a B12 shot to something much more severe. Luckily my subsequent tests showed iron deficiency and no sign of pernicious. Oh lucky me, exhaustion and transfusions to the rescue. Anyway, it’s still better than pernicious anemia so off to the chemo lab I go for my first infusion on Friday. The next happens this coming Friday. I feel like crap at the beginning but about 2 weeks later I feel great again.

All this and my menstrual cycle has started to change (my body was like “Hello, 50!!). I was as regular as a could be with my menses these past several years and now it’s all crazy. Hot flashes come and go, at least they are not regular yet. My libido is decreasing. At least I think so, I’m not sure since I just haven’t wanted sex in a while.

So add in the depression of a break up, the stress of a crazy job, international travel, anemia and peri-menopause and I think we have an equation for a nuclear bomb.

I can’t help but dwell on the fact I ruined my relationship with Bennett. Had I just let go in May when he chose to stay married, I would have walked away from a man in love with me. But I couldn’t. I can’t seem to leave anyone who remotely loves me. I am clearly toxic in some respect that I can’t have a man I love stay in love with me. Maggie is right, I’m still reeling from the 22 years I put into marriage desperately wanting him to love me. Then Bobby, who I don’t blame for falling in love because he ended it when he did, but he factors in my ability to “be enough”. And now, Bennett.

Before I wrote about confusion because he was so clearly in love with me. Now I’m baffled that he’s out of love with me. I don’t even know what happened to go from one extreme to another (rephrase that: I do know what happened, but why do I feel like love should overcome all and he doesn’t?) I’m confused and hurt by all the words he sold me about “forever in love” and “never feeling this way” if that was his truth where do those feelings go? It’s just so utterly heartbreaking to me to have him stop loving me because it’s too hard.

The fact is that he’s smarter than me in the end. I run straight towards adversity and he runs away to safety.

I also realize I come from years of bad marriage and I learned that fighting comes and goes but the person I’m fighting with doesn’t. Bennett comes from no fighting at all. He says I am the only person in his life to have such a knack for upsetting him. No one else has this effect. In my estimation I assumed this was passion. I realize I am wrong. My behaviors from marriage haven’t changed enough to have someone as calm as Bennett in my life.

I’m struggling to do the right thing. Not allow myself to retreat into illness or depression. To stand up for what’s good and right for me. But when you believe, you really believe, you lost the one thing that was what you’ve waited your whole life for…it’s so hard and it’s so sad.

I know I will find someone again. Of course I can date and love again. That’s not the point. I know I have to get through this horrible, awful pain alone. I’m mad that I didn’t do it when I had his love to fall back on. I should have let go with good grace but clearly I don’t have grace or self-worth.

I need to figure out how to be happy with what I have. I have such a good life. I repeat it to myself every night. I have even a better life than many. Yet I still believe the only thing that will ultimately make me complete is a partner. No matter how many times I go over it, how many people I speak to, how many therapists I see – I still believe I need a partner to be complete.

Anyone know hypnosis? Because hitting me over the head with a bat has never worked either.

Date 8: I Know What I Like

One thing I know about myself (as worded by my youngest): I like what I like, yo! (Said in his best rap voice !)

Yes. I like what I like.

And I know it.

Generally speaking, advice to “try” something different rarely works.

Bennett was an exception. He wasn’t my typical appeal looks wise and I still fell head over heels.  From that, I learned I should at least try when I feel some connection.

So, I did.

Shaun was really handsome and, frankly, reminded me of Bennett in so many ways it was hard to pass up. We started speaking and the cadence was easy and flirty immediately. He had all the qualities I was looking for.

All, but one.

About three days or so of text and FaceTime I realized I hadn’t asked him how tall he was.  It had never crossed my mind because the connection was so fast and easy.

But since he was already asking me out, I needed to be prepared.

He is 5’6″

To my 5’8″


I really liked him. I liked his voice.  I liked his personality.  He was funny and he was totally in to me.  He was cute and a little sexy.  At the same time, he reminded me so much of Bennett that it made me sad.   He even played the guitar.

He was a great communicator.

I was honest with him, that I didn’t think I could surpass the height issue, but I would be more than willing to meet him as a friend and see how it went, with no expectation.

I arrived to the bar just before he did and ordered a drink while I sat and waited.  He came around behind me and as I caught my first sight of him (since I was up on a barstool) all I could think was “Holy cow, he’s so little.”

He’s not little.  He’s a bit stocky and has amazingly well sculpted arms and shoulders.  He’s just short.  Nice looking.  Had he been at my height or just taller, I may have reconsidered, but once that initial thought went through my head there was no turning back from the severe disappointment.

His sparkling personality could not overcome the lack of attraction.

I thought about it, hard.  I looked at him closely, studying bits of him as he ate or spoke.  Wondered if I could dismiss the height. The deciding factor was when we stood to leave, I was in my sneakers and I felt that I towered over him, and I hated it.

I don’t like short men.  That’s just it.  No more or less.   Shaun was lovely but there would never be any attraction.  I couldn’t even bring myself to kiss him properly though I knew he would like that.

We had a perfectly lovely evening.  I hope he finds a nice girl, but its’ not me.

I thought,perhaps, when I did finally make a connection like that – I might realize there is light ahead and feel less grief over Bennett, but it only served to raise the pain closer to the surface.  The best thing Icould have done for myself was delete him from my phones so I can’t act thoughtlessly.  At least there’s that.

I Feel Cheated

Every time I think I might be ready to move on from Bennet, I don’t.

I am pretty sure I understand the triggers. Tough days at work. The kids making me nuts. Random every day stuff. I loved sharing these things with him because he really got me. And he gave amazing feedback.

It does make me realize, while I have many friends, I might not have the right ones. My friends who are my age are mostly stay at home moms so they don’t get the job aspect. My friends at work are mostly younger than me so don’t have the same pressures of role responsibility and a mature family or a perspective on divorce.  I have one divorced friend my age in a similarity situation, but for some reason – I think because she is so self-centered – she never really has words of wisdom that resound with me.

It’s been over 3 week now that I have seen or spoken to him.  I’m in agony.  Every 5 minutes my phone is in my hand wanting to write to him.  Painfully, I remind myself why I am NOT going to write to him.  He doesn’t want me.  If he did, I would hear from him.  I know it is as simple as that.  At least, that’s what I believe.

I crushed our relationship by allowing it to continue this summer.  I did it because I kept thinking I could manage to be a part time lover, to continue the affair because I was miserable without him.  I made us both miserable within the relationship though.

I couldn’t be second, I need to be first.  I kept telling myself what I was getting was enough, but my mouth kept going before my brain caught up.  I complained and nagged.  I cried.  My emotional self took hold and surpassed the logic of choosing to be with him.  While I logically know I should not be anyone’s side piece, I had also made a decision to stay in that relationship.  Then trying to morph him back to the actions of the first 9 months just added a weight that was impossible.  He didn’t feel the same because he had made a firm decision to remain married.  His life just wasn’t bad enough to turn upside down and whatever we had wasn’t good enough to make him want to do it.

I can write it all out and I still can’t actually understand.

I feel cheated.  I feel like I finally met “the one” The one who got me, who loved me exactly as I needed to be loved and gave me the world. Then he made me promises I desperately wanted to hear.  And took every one of them away.  I feel so lost and so abandoned.

I know this relationship is as much my mistake as his, but he gets to go back to a life he is reconciled to living while I feel like I’ve lost the one thing I finally found.  I am convinced I won’t ever have it again.  Some things are just once a lifetime, and I believe he was that once a lifetime love and that makes me so angry that he took it away.

I can argue all sides of this equation and, yet, I still end up alone and without him.  There’s no solution but to move on.

I just miss him.

No one in my life ever gave me what he gave me, said to me what he said to me, or made me feel the way he did.

I had been waiting 48 years for him, finally found him, yet he was never free to give himself to me the way he did.

and I’m the one left in agony.

Follow Up

Perhaps yesterdays post unleashed my inner communicator again…I don’t know…I do know it felt good to write out what’s been going on.

If you were sitting across a table from me, you wouldn’t know I’m depressed or grieving.  This isn’t like the depression caused by Bobby and my concurrent illness in December 2015.

This is worse because it feels something like a lurking snake, slithering around, ready to bite quickly and take me down.  And, I’m not sharing it with anyone because I know what anyone/everyone will say to me.  It’s my own fault, this much I know.  I should have let go when it was time to let go for good in May.  I crushed his soul and mine with the hope things could change.

I’ve also struggled with motherhood for some time now.  I do question how good of a mom I can be when I am so disengaged from these teen boys of mine.  I loved being a kid mom, but this teen thing really isn’t for me.  The guilt that creates also forces me to shut down in a way.

These two things together create such apathy and disinterest in two large areas of my life that I largely just don’t care about anything else.  Strangely, underneath it all I have a very distinct sense of responsibility.  I was raised to take care of things, land on my two feet, stand on my own.  I was encouraged to take action and be a leader.  While I am currently struggling with this in my personal life, I don’t struggle at all in my professional life.

Is it so wrong to want someone to help me?  To care for just me? To be by my side?  I have said it before, and while many women disagree, I stand behind my own words … I don’t want to be alone, I don’t want to do it alone, I operate better within a couple than without.  No matter how I slice it – I was happier with Bennett in my life than I am without him.  My problem is around the fact that I am not the type of person to come second…I could never figure that really “affair” balance out.

Urgh.  Anyway, I find a way to put one foot in front of the other every day and I do appreciate those of you who commented (without platitude!) yesterday.





I had a hard time with a title, sort of shows how long it’s been since I’ve written.

I still think in blog posts…and wish there was some way, other than taking the time to write, to capture all my ridiculous thoughts and activities over the past few months.

I’m in a sort of limbo. It’s a weird sort of place, actually. I feel a bit like an out of body experience every day. I’m watching Madeline go about her business but can no longer connect to her core. I’m floating in space. I’m untethered and I don’t know what to do about it. It’s all too familiar but still, unfamiliar. Depression takes many forms, I know. I feel like I’m watching a movie of my life go by in slow motion but can’t quite capture its essence.

I can tell you the stories, I can still appear loving and funny and witty. I still seem to be engaged and effective at work and mothering. I’m just disconnected. Totally and wholly disconnected. I hear a constant hum around me and my eyesight is dull, like a fog cover during a rainstorm.

I’ve experienced many things in the last 3 months: I’ve been to 6 countries, hand-picked by my new CEO to travel with, received the most fabulous gift of my life, watched a man die and be resuscitated, celebrated my 50th birthday with my sister, met a very old friend in another country and lost (whom I considered to be) the love of my life. I even dated on and off, but have no heart for it.

I wanted to write. Tell the stories. Hear your thoughts. But I couldn’t I still can’t. It’s like I’m not here. I can’t even explain it. I could lie in bed all day and stare at a wall and not feel ineffective.

I’m functioning above my capacity at work and somehow love it except for the fact it is literally sucking life from me. I have had that drive in other parts of my life before, many times, but it’s gone now. I work more than I do anything else. I am entirely consumed by my job and ensuring success. There’s no room for much else.

I’m functioning as a mother. Barely. I’m here. They get fed, clothed and housed. We talk sometimes. We do a little college prep. I’m sick of this age. Other people claim to love their kids so much it breaks their hearts when they leave for school. I need a god damn break from all this entitlement. I hate when the youngest gets sucked into my apathy though. I try to make sure I stay connected to him as best I can.

I finally deleted and blocked Bennett. I literally hung on until I could feel he wasn’t in love with me anymore. There was something, even without sex, there was something that kept him tied to me. But I was no longer getting anything I wanted from that relationship and had to cut my heart out. I believed in him so deeply. And he hurt me more than any other person ever could. He made it so I’m dead inside. I have no feelings at all. Perhaps that’s what happened inside my marriage, I went dead until many years passed, then I got angry and found myself again. I had a long time to sort that shit out. 20 years. Once he decided he would remain in his marriage he also decided that he couldn’t be in relationship with me. He claims he never meant to hurt me but he did one hell of a number on me. It’s been about 3 weeks now…the longest break yet. I deleted every way I could to contact him. I walk through every possible scenario over and over and always arrive at the same outcome. He doesn’t love me anymore. Ann once said I can’t just let things go, I have to burn them down. It’s true. I burned us to the ground with hope. It killed everything.

And that’s where I am. Neither here nor there. Not very conscious. I suppose this is called faking it til you make it. I can engage my brains all day every day at work and sleep. It’s all I can manage right now.

The rest of me is dead inside. Or at least hibernating. And this might be the first time in my life that I’m scared I can never recover the joy. So, perhaps that’s why I don’t write or even tell anyone what I feel. It will simply create a platform for platitudes. I don’t want or need them because it means I need to engage and I can’t.

The Things I Never Had (and may never have again)

*Note: I wrote this post over 4th July holiday. I started several posts but just couldn't get around to finishing them! But I was able to finish this one as the kids and I go off on summer holiday. Long plane rides are good for

something, plus I got upgraded to First Class!

Forgive spelling and grammar since I'm

On the iPhone. I also intended to edit this in a more logical way but decided to leave it as written – stream of consciousness.


I'm on the beach today with my kids. We take a little vacation every year to the same small beach town. I enjoy this time immensely as I rarely see them this relaxed and focused on nothing but family time.  It was always important to me to carve out these times during the year with my family. My x didn't see it the same way. He saw the cost of vacation rather than the memory making.

As I'm sitting under the umbrella watching my boys sleep on the blankets and listening to the sound of the waves crash and children playing around me, I can't help but think of Bennett.  

This post about Bennett is going to be boring to most but I wrote it for me. 

I know I have said it before: he is my perfect man. I think that's the killer for me. I had believed (at the time of my divorce) that maybe my x was right and I was never going to find someone who gave me everything I ever wanted.   Many readers (though interestingly enough, not local friends) say my standards are much too high and I should lower them. My x claimed that no man could ever keep up with the things I expected. But Bennett did, for a long time.  In fact, he probably raised my expectations.  

Yes, some things are so small they can go unnoticed – but that's not the person I am, nor is it the person he is.  I have said several times he was my reflection.  I never met a man who kept pace with my emotion in this way.  I had truly believed it had become improbable I ever would.   Then he came along.  Such surprise and delight at finally finding the man of my dreams.  The little girls Prince Charming and knight in shining armor. It's pretty tough to put these first fantasies away once you have what you have believed in your entire life.   Dreams don't always come true. But somehow, this one did in the most unexpected form.

Words are clearly my love language with actions a close second. Bennett knew how to speak to me in a way no one ever had before.  I know I'm going to cry as I write this but I have to get it out. All the big, small, silly and mundane things that endeared him to me forever.  

He was always worried about me. Constantly. He checked in with me all day every day to see what I was doing. He knew my routine like the back of his hand.  He knew my family, friends and coworkers name. Hell, he knew which seat I preferred on the bus.  

He would do research on things we spoke about. Brands, restaurants, places, ideas or movies.  Didn't matter. If either of us discussed something the other didn't  know about, he looked into it.  He didn't rely on me to "figure" something out. He helped me or did it with or for me.  

He checked the traffic and weather for me all the time when I was traveling.   Even when I was commuting. If my day-to-day was impacted, he knew.  

He knew the time zones I was in and my agenda for the day. He knew when I was nervous about a work presentation.  He knew that every Wednesday when I had to present the the CFO I was nervous. 

He knew when I me my new CEO and what we talked about. He gave me solid advice how to manage a social trip with him, alone. Something I have never had to do before.

He knew what I drank.  He never came to my house empty handed. If a liquor store had a brand of prosecco I hadn't tried he would buy them all.    He could tell if I was going to like a new cocktail before I read the menu.  

He would cut food for me and feed me. He served me.  He would eat anything I made for him and love it. He raved about my cooking.  He grilled perfectly.   He was a perfect drinking and dining companion.  He never ran out of stories.  Dining, drinking and laughing with him became an treasured event.  

He sang to me all the time. He recorded songs for me that meant something.  When he did a gig he would always tell me what he sang for me. Since we have broken up in January he had stopped singing my songs at a gig unless we were in a good place. It required him to make an entire new set list at one point.  He started to write a song for me but it wasn't finished as far as I know.  That makes me sad that he could never finish my song.   He said that no one had ever liked to listen to him sing.  He loved to sing to me and I loved to listen. At night he would take his guitar out and play and play and play for me.  

I could listen to his voice for hours. It was the perfect combination of calm confidence enough and sexiness.   I fell in love with the sound of his voice and his stories long before anything else.  He is entirely engaging. And he can make me laugh to the core of my belly.  Constantly.  

We could talk for hours and hours. Over nothing. Over everything. There was no lack of interesting conversation.  The fact that he thought about many things in a similar manner to me was fascinating to me.  

I could depend on him to communicate with me almost every hour. Usually not less than two, no matter where he was. He was also very clear about what he was doing and when.  I never felt disconnected from him, even when he was with his family.   That changed after May 4.  The entire pace of his communication dropped.  Some of the key notes of our communication cadence changed and I feel the immensity of their absence.

He would send so many photos. Of him, his kids, where he was, something he saw.  I loved it. I always felt like I was on his mind.  He would always check my IG and comment on my photos and commentary.  He knew who always liked my photos and would joke that Finnian still was checking me out.  

He is an amazing father. Exactly the type of man I would want to father my own children. The perfect blend of stern, serious, funny and dependable. His relationships to his parents as well as his children is admirable.  His children adore him and depend on him for good advice.  They have a decent amount of fear of his poor   opinion as well, which I believe is healthy. 

He likes the same type of family things I do and wants to invest in these things. Vacations, dinners, sports, games, time alone.  Things that breed relationship.  He is always available for his family.  He never puts himself first.  

He is immensely patient and kind. He doesn't like adversity.  He has taught me to be more careful with my words and actions than even he knows.  I believe he would keep all my anxiety at bay if we were together because he is like a rock, he became my foundation.  

He can fix almost anything and was always looking to help me in my home. It would make him crazy if something broke and he wasn't there to fix it. Nothing went undone.  He would leave me sleeping in bed to go take care of something just to help me.  He would run to the store to get what I needed.  Nothing was ever a problem or complaint.  It was never too much to help.  

He held my hand so tightly I would have to remind him I wasn't a child. He would put himself in front of me if we crossed a street or if there were people barreling around me.  He navigated the way for me – I could have closed my eyes in a large city and trusted I would be safe holding his hand.  

He couldn't go a couple days without seeing me and made that abundantly clear to me.  He told me I was the air he breathed. That living without  my kisses is like living without oxygen.  He always asked when he would see me next.  He would come to work and just drop off flowers if I couldn't meet him.  He would hand write the cards on the flowers with a special lyric between us.  When we are together we do not part, we are always touching and constantly kissing.  We are definitely the couple you gag over or realize they are amazingly in love.  That feeling of new love desperation has disappeared for him, he doesn't demonstrate that urgent desire since May 4. That saddens me so deeply.

More than once someone (a waiter or a cab driver etc) has commented how clear it was that my man was deeply in love with me.  It was  overwhelmingly obvious.  

He always paid. Without question. He didn't care how much we spent or where we went. He liked BBQ wings and beer as much as a Michelin star restaurant.  He could dress up or down without hesitation.  He always got an uber.  He knew if I was wearing heels there wasn't going to be too much walking involved.  I never asked.  He loved my heels.  I loved to dress for him.  

When he got us a hotel room in the city he always made sure I had a large bottle of water next to the bed and a bottle of prosecco on ice.  

He looked at a menu and saw things I would like and asked me about them. We shared food often. 

He always opened my doors and car doors for me. Every, single time. I always walked first into a restaurant or to a table. He always deferred politely – unless he was walking with me in the city in which case he always took control!

He knew exactly how to please me in  bed and went to great lengths to ensure I was pleased, multiple times, every time. He asked me about it. He wanted to make sure I was happy and sated.  He liked to play with toys – on both of us.  He liked new positions.  He could have sex 10 times in a row and never grew tired or soft.  He held me closely while we slept. He often would just watch me fall to sleep first before he would allow himself to sleep.  He loved my body just the way it is and told me so every single time.  There was nothing he didn't love about our sex.  He had no issue going down on me after sex.  His body, while not perfect, was perfect for me.  I know I did the same for him, nothing is off limits for me in bed when I enjoy a partner.  I was constantly pleasing him and wanting him to feel like a man.   We loved how we fit together so well.  

When I told him how sexy I thought his muscles were after some time working out, he worked harder to make himself even more appealing to me. He loved how turned on I would get by the change in his upper body. His strength was a massive turn on. He had gotten so strong towards the end that he had no issue moving me around easily during sex. 

When I suggested he try a different type of clothing to suit his shape better, he did. He now wears a very different type of fit head to toe and knows how much better he looks.  Even his underwear is all new.  His coworkers comment constantly now. 

He always bought me my favorite cologne and lotion so I never ran low. 

He would help me with work issues. He is so smart and so professional that I could depend on his advice to be bang-on.  He is the best kind of boss at work – totally reliable and easy going, but knows how to get what he wants.  He is highly valued in his role.  He loves his job but still has ambition.  His work ethic is impressive.  And just as importantly, he told me I was good for him And he could talk to me about his work.  I knew his projects, his coworkers and bosses and his history.  I enjoyed hearing what he was doing each day.  I admired his dedication and tenacity. 

He called me every morning for coffee chat and nearly every night before bed.   Not a day went by without good mornings and good nights.  He would always ask what I ate for every meal or what I was wearing.  

He enjoys his life and doesn't let money stand in the way. He believes in supporting his kids education.  He isn't a huge spender on the same things I like and he teases me about my "bougie " side but he also embraces it all the same.  That's the perfect balance for me – I just need someone to appreciate that I do like finer things in life and it doesn't make me high-maintainence.  

He told me he loved me so often and in so many ways. The way he would Look at me when we made love and sometimes cry out in desperation how deeply he loved me touched me like nothing else ever has. 

He loves his family, his parents and his life. He has created a great life and worked hard to achieve it. People admire him.  He is surrounded by many friends.  I find all of that immensely attractive.  

He noticed everything I did for him. I am a natural born pleaser and like to make sure my partner is happy and comfortable. I always made him his favorite drink, had whatever treats he liked, left him a clean towel and a bottle of water next to the bed.  I could make his coffee perfectly.  He knew exactly what my long-ass coffee order at Starbucks was.  He knew it took me forever to finish my coffee as well.  He paid attention to everything. Every detail.  

He is hands down the best kisser in my life. I could kiss him for hours and never tire.  His kisses could ignite a passion within me like no other.  I was able to achieve multiple types of orgasm with him because I was so confident and comfortable and because he took the time to pay close attention to every minute move of my body.  Our physical connection is undeniable. I cannot believe this man ever had sexual dysfunction.  

No part of my body has gone unnoticed.  I didn't know how much I loved my toes being sucked.  

I could sleep in the crook of his arm all night and not even move. He claims he worries I don't breathe because I am so peaceful. 

When I see him I am immediately calm.  He has an effect on me that creates a peace deep within me.  

If I cry and he sings I can calm immediately.

I don't love facial hair but I love his. I can run my hands across his cheek for hours and never tire of how soft it feels to me.  

He is an amazing provider.  His family has nothing to want for or to worry about. He doesn't complain when his children ask for something.  His wife spends as she pleases.  He manages everything. The finances, college, the entire house.  He cooks and cleans and does laundry.   He is equally as responsible for his children as his wife.   Both parents are equally invested in raising good kids.  

Somehow he understand me. He understands complexities I can't seem to see.  There are things about him I can see right through and I can call him on it.  We get each other.  We inspire each other.  We give each other a reason to get through a day- because the one we love is at the end of it.  

Bennett hits every single requirement on my "list" plus some I didn't even know I had.  I still find that unusual. What are the chances?  

Maybe that's why they call it soulmates or twin flames.  

He wasn't afraid to cry with me or tell me his deepest fears.  Maybe he had trouble communicating when he was most angry, sad or distressed but I was always able to pull him from the turtle shell he hid in. 

He apologized when he was wrong. 

He was thoughtful.   Kind. Generous. Intelligent.  In his own way his handsomeness grew on me.  Especially when he smiles.  

He loved the smell of me.  He understood it's uniqueness.  

We discussed many, many times how we both never had this type of relationship.  That bit was something we always wanted, always dreamed of.  To be able to give yourself entirely to a partner and get it back in spades.  To have the type of reprocity most can only dream of.   Getting everything you ever wanted without even having to ask for it. 

I never doubted the depth of his love for me until May 4th.  Now I do…and now many of the words are gone even though some actions remained.   This makes be believe that Bennett is the type of person whose words carry equal weight – he doesn't use them now because he has realized they held too much promise and I built a delusional future on those words and inherent promises.  

I miss the words and the connection.   I miss that depth of longing.  Holy fuck I miss him from before May 4.  

I know I can see him and have sex with him should I choose to.  I know he does love me.  But what built the bond between us is gone now and that's the pain for me.   It's frightening to me to realize he can't be mine in any way.   I work hard to convince myself every moment that I don't want what he can give me.  It will only hurt me More to be missing what I once had.  

Many people believe words don't carry the same power as action.  Maybe. In his case there was a combination of both that pulled me in deeply.   

It's hard for me to understand how he would be able to stop saying those things.  I don't know how to turn off my emotion so I don't know how anyone does it.  But stop it had. I suppose it's what's drove me to my final breakdown.  But I realize it doesn't matter what I say or do – he needs to be able to feel those things in his heart to behave that way.  And he knows he can't continue.  

I am trying every day to tell myself I can't continue either and it's so hard for me. Every day I do a little more emotional purging

But I am far from successful. I still text with him most days. We don't see each other as much which also limits any sexual interaction.

He's been very depressed as of late with both his children leaving for college, his younger son in particular. I've never experienced a man cry so often and he admits it's unlike him.

I don't know what I feel to be honest. The mistaken phone call was a big riff between us as expected. I have chosen not to focus on what remains between us partly because I am very afraid I will lose control again and partly because I cannot afford any distraction from work. I'm not in a healthy place, I know it, and I'm not actively taking care of my emotional health by continuing with him.

I know we can never go back but there are glimpses of the times before May. I realize it often makes me more sad than happy after the fact (during I'm just fine).

Checking In

I'm alive and well.

The good news is that I'm so busy and physically exhausted I don't have time or energy to write.

Here's a high level catch-up:

Work is off the charts crazy. A great kind of nuts but nuts all the same. I was worrying a lot about the changes but have chosen to focus on the path ahead. I don't have control over what comes next, but I do have control over how I show up. I have people supporting me and guiding me for the first time ever, so I don't feel like I'm left out to hang (as I have felt in previous roles). It will be one hell of a ride. Companies that are failing, really and truly failing, and trying to turn back to profitability, can be equal parts of frustration and excitement.

I went through a first date craze. Something like 7 dates in 7 days. I had higher hopes for two of them, but none of them warranted a second date. I started to write the post and never finished. There are some funny stories to be told and at least one crazy sex one. It's been a while since sexy M came out to play with a virtual stranger.

Bennett is still around. I'm still crying. Nothing has changed or is changing. Well, maybe he is changing. There have been lovely and sincere moments between us. I miss having sex with him but I realize I'm not ready emotionally to have it with anyone else. I also realize that anything I do now is my own poor choice so there's no sense in complaining in what he doesn't give me. So I generally realize the pattern will be: he doesn't come through with something I want, I realize I do all the asking, I get frustrated, angry then sad, and I cry good and hard for a bit. Then it passes until the next incident. I need to get in front of asking him for anything because it's just a set up for failure. He won't give me anything. Now he really does have his cake and eats it too. The whole phone call thing fell off the radar entirely (from the wife, not so much him).

I was due to have two weeks of vacation coming up but I booked only one due to work. My kids are not happy it's a beach vacation. Whose kids are these?

So that's it. I'm working super hard. I'm hanging onto Bennett for no good reason other than to not let my anxiety get the better of me. Life goes on.

Trixie Gets Hysterical

I have done something very bad, and if I were hearing this story from me I wouldn’t believe it either.

I admit, last week I had reached an emotional breaking point regarding Bennett.  I hadn’t spoken to him in a while and the last we spoke, we argued over nothing….or better put, I argued with him over nothing and got myself very wound up.

Much too wound up.  Enough to make myself sick for days.

I had been battling a stomach bug, but getting entirely panicked and anxious only exacerbated my symptoms.  By Wednesday night I was vomiting anything that I put in my body.  If I wasn’t vomiting, I had diarrhea.  Sometimes, I had both at once.  It was not pretty.

I made the mistake of letting my misery take control.  I called Bennett in the middle of the night.

On a landline, at his lake home, while he was with his brother.

There was some logic here, as irrational as it may have been.  I figured he was staying the night, I know there is no cell service, and his brother knows all about me.  I thought he would be mildly upset.

I was way, way wrong.

Not only was his brother with him, but so was his niece and nephew.  The problem with this was that by the time I called him, I was full on hysterical and there was no calming me down.  I should have taken two ambien and knocked myself into sleep, it would have been the right decision.   But I didn’t make a good decision. I was sobbing like a maniac.  I had no pride and no self-control.

The conversation turned ugly.  Every time he tried to calm me down I felt like I was being chastised.  Or, I felt like he was more worried about getting me off the phone because his niece and nephew would wonder wtf was going on in the middle of the night.  Nothing helped and I could only continue to sob.  Until he told me to “calm down and shut the fuck up.”

That did stop me in my tracks.  I have never, ever heard him with any tone of voice directed at me.  I had clearly pushed him beyond his ability to control himself.

I hung up the phone and instantly regretted it.  We got off the phone around 12:30, by 12:42 I called the number over and over thinking he would have to answer.  I tried his face time.  I pressed the buttons on my phone in a frenzy.

Until I pressed the wrong one.

Months ago, Bennett and I were having a conversation about his wife getting phone calls and text from numbers he didn’t know.  We spent some time digging on line to discover who the calls were from.   During that time, I said “let me check your wife’e number.”  He  gave it to me and I saved it.  (Point to note: Bennett claims this never happened and I somehow got his wife’s number another way).

I saved her number because I clearly had ill intent….what other reason could there be.  There is none, it must be why I saved it.  I saved it under his number and not a separate entry.  His name houses 6 different phone numbers.  Hers was the last one and it simply said “other.”  In m y hysteria, as I was pressing his number over and over, I must have pressed hers.  I didn’t realize I pressed it because the name on the phone contact is his.

When the phone was answered, it was pitch dark (on my end too) and I thought it was him so I said “oh can you talk now?”  When a woman’s voice replied that I had the wrong number, I replied “No, I most certainly do not have the wrong number (I could see his name on my phone screen – I know I didn’t dial the wrong number!) and then I said “please put your Uncle on!”  I think she said, “you have the wrong number because my Uncle isn’t here with me” and hung up on me.

Thinking it was his niece with his phone and now being mad on top of hysterical, I dialed back.  This time I think she asked me who I was looking for and I believe I said “Bennett” and she said “he’s not here”  (things start to get fuzzy now because I  believe I started to realize I was speaking to his wife and not his niece).  I replied “yes, he is, he is in xxxx, city!” and when she asked who I was I replied “his girlfriend.”  At which point she said something like this is his wife and hung up.

I passed out on my back deck from disbelief and exhaustion.  Sometime later I woke up and made it into my house and into bed.

At 7:30 am a phone call from “No Called ID” came through.  I suppose I knew in the back of my mind that it was her, and not him, but I convinced myself it was him calling from the lake house.    As soon as I said hello she hung up.

I received a text from him some minutes later “M – you called Callie?”

There were a few more calls that day from unidentified numbers, which I didn’t answer.  He asked me not to speak to her should she call.  I separated out her phone number and blocked it.  Some other numbers came through and I gave them to him and it turns out she asked her children to also call the number, believing it was a foolish prank, and I blocked them as well.  My voice mail is a generic greeting.

He had a long drive home from the lake house and spoke to me for a couple hours.  He was strangely calm and seemed much more worried about how upset I was.

I was sick through Thursday and and Friday, still vomiting, but I think more from the virus than the anxiety at this point.

Saturday I left to the city to spend with a good friend and Bennett and I only had generic text Saturday and Sunday.

He told me Sunday night he was in a very bad way and worried about losing his job in the morning.  When he said he was horribly distraught, I assumed he meant his job, but it wasn’t.  He had started to believe I was intentionally malicious and was getting himself sick over the situation he had placed himself and his family in.

I spoke to him Monday morning after he spoke to his boss, to find out there would be lay-offs, but his role was not at risk.  He called me soon after and the conversation started out with blame, and believing I had been intentional in the phone call.  I understand why he wouldn’t believe me.  If it was me hearing this story, I don’t think I would believe me.

And then,  seemingly out of nowhere, he utterly broke down.  I listened.  I have never heard a man break down like this, it was horrible.  I didn’t know what to do except to listen.  Now I think I understand what he was experiencing with me when I was sobbing to him on Wednesday.

It stopped me in my tracks.

I think between the stress of our break-up, my phone call and his worry over his job he just had a nervous break.  He told me he had been sobbing like this all weekend.  He is a wreck.

I know at one point when I was mad that I told him I wish he hurt like I hurt – then he would finally understand me.  I know now, beyond a shadow of doubt, that he does hurt like I do, maybe worse because he is potentially harming his family.  I’m sorry I uttered those words aloud.

I’m sorry I don’t have the patience to control myself and my mouth when I have something on my mind.  I haven’t fully grasped how to control my emotional outbursts.  I haven’t learned that once said things cannot be unsaid and you need to roll things around on your tongue and taste them before spitting them out.  I haven’t learned.

And I am so disappointed in myself.

I am disappointed that I broke the man I love.  If I really loved him, would I have pushed him to this point?  What kind of person am I?

Why did I save her number all that time ago?  To cause intentional harm?

If I really loved him, why would I allow us both to stay in this horrible situation?

I am so upset with myself for allowing all of this to happen.  Mostly for hurting him.  I never want to hear that pain in his voice again.

When he was crying, all he could really say was that he never wanted to hurt me, that he let all of it get out of hand and go on too long, and that he was so very, very wrong for doing what he’s been doing to a woman who, despite being a poor partner and wife, doesn’t deserve what he’s done to her.  He was ashamed that she may find out this way that he has been cheating on her.  As I just typed this I realize that was the emotion coming across to me: shame.  He was horrified at the man he had become and just realized who he really was, and not who he pretended to be.

It was horrid to listen to his realization.

As I write this last line I know things are over for good, he needs to be away from me to repair what he can, as best he can.  He deserves that from me.

And I have to find the ability to control myself so I don’t end up harming myself again and end up in the hospital.









When the Universe Speaks

I certainly wrote at a breaking point yesterday.  I left work a bit early (well, 6pm seems to be early these days) after hiding my crying for most of the day….cried the entire way home…then cried myself into a fitful sleep by 9pm.

I woke with an anxious tummy and a migraine and needed to stay home from work.

I debated with myself to call Bennett.  I walked through every possible combination of conversation I could think of but they all kept coming back to the same thing.  No matter what I say or do, he will say he loves me, and equally say he is not ready to leave his marriage.  I literally tried to convince myself of multiple outcomes and possibilities and analyze any potential weakness I think I might have glimpsed, but there were none.  His decision is made and this now sounds like no more than begging.   Besides that, my crazy is starting to show and it’s really not something I want people to be acutely aware of (even when it is funny).

It must be bad when I can’t even convince myself there is a reason to speak to him.

All I wanted to do was call him, the desperation was like a bitter taste in my mouth that  couldn’t rid myself of.  I kept trying to swallow it and I couldn’t.  I reached for the phone….and it rang in my hand.

Fortunately, it was my closest friend who also works with me.  Generally speaking she is quite tough on me (even tougher than Ann can be if you can believe it!) but I know they both doit because they care about me and want me to make out of the fugue state I am so good at keeping myself in.

Boo gave me an amazing pep talk.  She walked me through the anxiety, which isn’t fully related to him but also the massive amount of stress I am experiencing at work (and some divorce related issues for another post).   She lived through the agonizing end of Bobby in person and was sincere when she said she never wants to see any human, especially her friend, go through such pain ever again.  She just talked to me. Called me out on all the craziness that I am in a relationship.  Called me on the desperation and the anxious attachment.  Called me on my lack of pride.  She is the toughest friend I know, but she was so gentle with me, which reminds me why I love her so (because that toughness is an exterior).  She walked me through my recent success and the admiration and respect people hold for me in my current role.  And reminded how hard I worked to get to where I am – why would I ever allow a man to have such control over me?

Why do I?

That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?  Why do I take so much pride in my ability to be a good leader and a good mother and lose that pride in relationship?

Boo decided we should call the delusional part of me that hangs on past expiration dates “Trixie.”  Trixie seems to be a separate entity that can derail me from logical choices and maintains the illusion there is still hope to be had.   Trixie doesn’t exist in my professional life, or with my children.  She only appears in serious relationships.

It’s silly, I know.  But the conversation pulled me back into reality, the migraine meds started to work and I was no longer feeling such sincere desperation to reach out to him right now.

Right after we hung up the phone, I checked my in box on POF.  There was a nice message from an electrician (ha! see I do speak to blue collar men under 6′!) who asked me about the story of changing jobs last summer…..which brought back a flood of memories for how grateful I felt last year.  Sure, Bennett was a large part of the reason I felt so good last summer, but it was the icing on an already amazing cake.  I was divorced May 12, lost my job May 13 and spent a lovely summer with my children.  Then I found the job of my dreams and was working by end September.  I had a summer full of fun, travel, sex and friends and found true love (maybe even a soul mate or twin flame).  It was an amazing time in my life.

The feeling of gratitude swelled up in my throat instead of the bitter taste of desperation and I remembered to be thankful.

I want to know why we, all too often,  forget about those great things and worry about the present trials and tribulations – my brain need to be wired to remember those things first so I can stop giving Bennett attention and energy he doesn’t deserve.

As Boo said – he is not worth me affecting my physical or emotional health of my career.  I must get him out of my head and allowing him to control me.

Lucky for me the universe helped me by inserting a friends phone call in place of a desperate call to Bennet and then reminded me what’s truly important in this life and where I should be focused.

One more step in the right direction.