fell a bit this weekend. Not physically of course, but I certainly didn’t meet up to my own expectations of what I should have done with my time, how I should have treated my body, or equally importantly, my own mental health.
I ate the wrong foods. Pretty much all weekend. I ate pizza and fast food and other junk. My stomach told me just how much it didn’t like the dietary change…the heartburn came back full force…followed by the reflux and the acidic puking. Yeah…it’s graphic..but that’s what happens to me when I don’t listen to or take care of my body…or listen to my mind for that matter. All weekend I told myself I should be doing something different. I could have made far better use of my time than I did. I could have gotten more done around the house, gotten more exercise in. Cooked more meals at home (I did do breakfast and dinner for the boys and I). I could have, should have…done a lot more.
I let things get to me. I’m still trying to put together what my wants and needs are…and I’m still trying to decide if they are being met. If I were honest with myself I would say they aren’t. At least not entirely. But I get to learn more about myself in the process. I struggled in therapy today…trying to talk over why I am accepting what I am…or whether I’m accepting it at all…and I guess trying to find the path to walk down that would make everything easier for me. Life did not get simpler when J came back into it. Life did not get better, nor did it get worse…it simply changed.
Wednesday I saw J and we snuggled and slept together until I was kicked out at Midnight. I can’t stay the night because of J’s roommate/former/current other lover. I stayed home Thursday and caught up on some things around the house. Friday I was on my way to see her only to get called off because she’d gotten the flu.
Saturday…Saturday she slept all day and I spent the morning actually catching up on my own sleep and doing some relaxing myself. Eary Saturday evening Facebook started blowing up with news that a long time friend of mine had died suddenly. I can’t say we were super close…and yet I can count numerous instances where she attended events in my life or I participated in things she was doing. As the weekend progressed I learned just how many of my other friends knew her as well…and of how many lives she touched in one way or another. She left behind a husband and two young children and a whole bunch of people with holes in their lives.
Sunday came and J made it seem like she wanted to be left alone…and then posted on her blog that she didn’t want to be alone…but needed someone to recognize that and just take charge. I went over. And since I’ve had misgivings over something she had told me the other day…especially as evidence was presenting itself to me otherwise…I semi-snooped. I looked for the white board on the refrigerator knowing somehow that there would be a message there from her roommate/unconfirmed lover. Expressions of love and desire for cuddle time greeted me…and I wasn’t surprised. I expected it. I just wish she had been honest with me when I had asked her about it the other day. I’m already in this eyes wide open. So why isn’t she able to be honest with me? What’s worse, I think, is not that she can’t be honest with me, because I’ve known that, and I’ve made the choice to accept it at least on some levels. I’ve made my (relative) peace with it. But G hasn’t been given that choice…at least not to my knowledge…and I don’t think he’d be as accepting of it as I am. On many levels I want him to find out. I admit to some jealousy here…because he lives in the house, and (assuming I am correct) he has no knowledge of anyone else…he gets all the benefits I don’t. He gets over nights (they do have separate rooms still) he gets to live under the illusion that he’s actually in a relationship. Of course, he’s also babysitting her daughter, and sharing cooking/cleaning and all of that. I’m only burdened by my own children and household. Burdened…it’s funny…I wouldn’t feel burdened having her in my life..her daughter, her needs my own….but I’d have to actually have her in my life…fully and completely a part of it…and I know she’s not yet willing or able to give that. And again, if I am honest, I’m not sure she ever will be. But I still want him to know. I’ll never tell…as much as I sometimes want to…but man, I really want him to know. I think he should have the right to make the choice…continue on or move on…because she’s clearly not investing in him what he’s investing in her. And that just doesn’t seem fair.
I wanted to talk to J about the white board….let her know I’d seen it…and the one from a week ago…and just try to iron out what to expect and ask for the only thing I really want…honesty. I’ll probably still do it…but I chickened out last night. Maybe I didn’t know how to bring it up…or maybe I just wanted to wait for another time, another space…maybe mine…where she can run if she wants to. I love her…and I still want her, will still see her as long as she will let me. I’m pathetic that way.