I don't want him anyway

I went for another run this morning--in the soft rain. It was refreshing. I couldn't take my iPod becasue I didn't want it to get wet so it was just me, the birds, the drip drops, the cars, and my thoughts.

I had a rough spot again for a few hours last night. Worrying more about everything and everyone and me and thinking of Michael. I broke down after a while and called him but he never answers--even when I text him that I need him. I can't actually remember the last time he picked up the phone when I called.

I'm nearly certain he was with her. He hasn't slept at his apartment since he got back into town (that is three nights now). You do not spend three nights in a row at your guy friends house. He made excuses for it the first night that one time we talked. I didn't believe them then, though I let him think I did because what does it matter really? He hates it when I "interrogate" him. Little does he know how much of his evilness I have discovered. I just don't have it in me to fight with him like that as much any more; it leads to no where but pain for us both.

Even if he tells the truth about loving me more, thinking I'm more beautiful, smarter, kinder, better for him. That he would rather be with me; that he thinks of me all the time. (He said he would email it to me. "I want it in writing," I said. Have yet to see that either). Even if he does feel that way he does not act on it. Maybe it is because he thinks we are a lost cause (which is pretty accurate). I still choose to believe him on those counts, though, for different reasons now. Because I DO NOT want him back. I have NOT forgotten what a big pile of "diarrhetic dog shit" (quote from my brother C.) he was and is.

I believe it now because it helps me heal. In a way it validates the way that I think of myself. I know I should not need him to validate that--particularly him. But because he was with me for so long, I am glad that he recognized that it me.

I will be a gift to someone else someday who appreciates and cherishes it. "You should cherish me!" I used to tell him. "I cherish you in my head," he replied once. Interesting. I couldn't then, nor can I now, read his thoughts. Actions, boys, actions. You know better than that; no matter how many excuses you make about your "demons" or "weaknesses" or "insescurities"--(are they manipulations anyway?) to make us kind-hearted women feel sorry for you and forgive you...once again. Rubbish.

So I discover every morning that he is not at home and it hurts...for a minute. Then it moves ever more quickly to eye-rolling resignation and re-realization of his playboy shallow trashy behavior. He was better with me. He didn't act like such a giant schmuck asshole...all of the time...only sometimes. Now he is "perma-schmuck." And then the feelings transition to anger again. Then reminding myself that I don't want to be any part of that. I'd rather be running in the rain on a soft warm morning in the rain suit sprinkled with "love dust" (my mom got it for me when I lived in Tacoma years ago). I don't want him anyway.

This cycle of thoughts comes ever more quickly. The hurt does not last nearly as long anymore (it used to last days--perhaps months--until the last few weeks really). In fact, I woke up at 5:07 this morning. That is a dangerous time for me as I think of him and am not rational and my sleeping meds have nearly worn off (though not quite enough to make me clear headed) and my anitdepressant is at a low point in my bloodstream. So I used to drive myself crazy thinking and drive over there and bang on his door until he answered. This morning, I lay awake for about an hour, thinking craziness for a while, but then reminding myself of how many people love me (texts came pouring in last night) and are genuine and caring and deserving. It soothes me (doesn't take the insanity all away, but dulls it enough for me to not get up and drive to his place).

He sent me a check for the fee to change my flight I got it today. No note. He said he would send the money for my Valentine's day gift (Y membership). He'll get his stupid motorbike (which he obsesses over) out of my apartment building this weekend. That should be it.

I'm leaving town next weekend and hoping to spend April in California. Then will only have to be back here for a couple weeks in May and for graduation. Sometimes, like this morning, I still don't want to leave because he is here. Stupid, I know, I know. My therapist said I will stop doing things when I no longer need them to heal.

Part of me just doesn't want him to get away with it; just doesn't seem fair. Oh well, he'll toss her aside soon enough. Or she him. I'm sure they'll have their own kind of fun in the meantime. That is the way of ingenuine people. And they are a pair.

I met a guy on MySpace last night who works at the same hospital as both of them. I told him to trip her if he sees her. He said he'd at least give her the evil eye. I should have told him to do that to Voldemort, too.