I know that I shouldn't even be thinking it. I shouldn't even consider it, but the plan is being hatched. I'd never admit it to anyone, even my BF. I want Manchild to be held accountable for his crimes. I want him to look me in the eye and admit what he has done. I want for him to have to answer for what he has done. I foolishly want an apology. I want to understand why he didn't love me enough to stay or to call at very least.
Manchild professed his love, showered me with Christmas gifts, home-cooked meals, back rubs, lots of love and affection, in the days leading up to his mysterious exit. We'd been dating since March. We were serious, so I thought. Exclusive, I thought. And in love, I thought. He was spending the night at least five nights out of the week. We were playing house in a house of cards.
It's all so clear now. I moved into a house that's fifteen minutes from his office, beneficial for him by shortening his morning commute. Of course he kept his place, needing an escape hatch. And I, in all of my dysfunction, provided sex on his whim, love, support, a home, a family. I was a warm body. He was using me and didn't give a second thought to waiting until I went to work a couple of days before Christmas, packing up all of his things that he brought to my house, and disappearing without so much as a call or text for the next two weeks.
Now, I knew that he was supposed to be visiting family in San Antonio. However, let's be real here. He was in San Antonio, not the dark side of the moon. There is no excuse for his disappearing act. Only, the truth. He does not love or respect me. He is selfish and cares only for himself. He used me to pad the crushing blow of losing his fiance last year.
Smart girl, left him for someone else...however, her dysfunction is that she continues to pull him back in whenever her relationship is on the rocks. Apparently, it was a rocky holiday season for her, as she was needing him to make the holidays a bit more tolerable. I don't blame her. That's too easy and it let's him off the hook.
He is the bully on the playground, the villain in black tying the damsel to the train tracks, your worst nightmare...A forty-year-old man who has never been married and has no kids. Let the alarm bells go off. My attraction to the wrong kind of men is a sort of ear plug that prevents me from hearing those alarm bells. A woman with healthy dating habits would have run in the opposite direction. I ran toward it.
So, on Day 2 of my quest for happiness, I am giving myself one last reprieve. Like a last meal request from a death row inmate. Confronting him with his lengthy list of bad behaviors, will be like indulging in fried chicken, mac'n cheese, a chocolate sundae for desert, and a bottle of Merlot...Tomorrow, I promise to be a better woman, but today, when he returns, he will need to answer to me. Explain himself. Know that I deserve more and he does not deserve me.
Wish me luck.
(Please hold the I told you so's for much later.)
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