Suffice it so say, I stayed. Of course, I'm a dateaholic.
He is sick with a sinus infection. He is pale, weak, and congested. He is shocked to see me there and mentioned how crazy it was for me to be there. He is right. And there I am. My pride and self-respect are nowhere to be found.
His father is sick, now hospitalized. His mother exhausted and ill herself, unable to continue round-the-clock care on her own. And let's be honest, he is the eldest Hispanic son. He's going home. It was predetermined at birth.
But there is more so much more.
He says that he didn't call because he was feeling guilty. Just not guilty enough. Not about a sordid affair, but about his relocation to San Antonio to care for his parents. He didn't want to tell me. He just wants to leave me behind like a dream you forget seconds after waking up.
And now I know. He never did love me. He never asked me to follow. Well, that's not completely true. After his long explanation and me looking back up at him with my tear-filled, Bambi eyes. He said, "Come with me, but I know you can't because of your kids and the custody arrangement, right?" Not the invitation I was looking for.
He is not in love. He is in like. As for me, I know now for certain I am in love, though as dysfunctional as it may be, because my heart actually aches, my chest is tight, and I just want to roll up in a ball under the covers and cry.
I can't breath. I can't breath when I think of my life without him. I also can't breath when I think of life with him, a man that doesn't love me enough to show me respect and reciprocal love.
Now the real decision.
Am I strong enough to stick to my pledge? He wants to have dinner tonight. I know you must think I am freakin' out of my mind. I am, I suppose.
If I continue to see him, knowing that he is leaving in three, or four, or five months, as soon as he gets a job, I am prolonging and potentially intensifying the pain I will feel. If he doesn't get a job soon, I will know that he is only staying because he can't leave, not exactly my dream relationship. If I cave, I would also be putting off my dateaholic recovery program. Most importantly, and not to be so easily disregarded, my self worth dangles in the balance if I let him back in. The fact that I went to the airport and that I am speaking to him at all means there's not much self-worth to speak of.
He says he loves me. However, he also loves food, skiing at Mammoth, a good Maragarita, and authentic tacos in Tijuana. He likes me. Scratch that, this treatment feels more like he hates me, but my illness, my addiction, keeps me in the game.
If he loved me, he'd never let me go. He'd never let a day pass without a phone call. He would have remembered my birthday (material for yet another posting) and marked the day with celebration. He would always follow-through and be there when he says he is going to be there. He also wouldn't selfishly be asking me to prolong my pain.
Sometimes I think that I settle for so little because, I don't know what the real thing, Love, feels like or should even look like. Most of all, I'm not sure that I even deserve it.
I sound absolutely pathetic. I am absolutely pathetic. My friends and family all say the same thing. You are educated, attractive, you have a lot going for you. You can do better, but I am not sure that I really believe it. I don't know how to change my mind set.
I shouldn't have given Manchild the opportunity to even see me ever again. Let alone, go to him, listen to him, let him call me...I should be enraged, angry as hell, and turn off my feelings for him like a light switch at the first sign of his douchebaggery. I don't feel those things. I feel sadness and I still don't want him to leave, even after he blew me off for the entire Christmas holiday. He ruined everything we had and my eyes well up tears and my heart aches when I allow myself to think about it. I am ever so dysfunctional.
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