The Oscar

Well that didn't last long. I think we all knew I wouldn't leave things like they were at the hospital with him slamming the door on me and stomping off. I knew it anyway.

So I went by his place tonight; he forgot the whole bag of stuff I gave him at his work. I told him again that I knew he wasn't home last night and that the truth was better than whatever evilness I was imagining in my head. He kept insisting that he was there--though he knows and I know he wasn't. I don't know why it is so hard for him to tell me a simple truth. He tells me lies with such ease and frequency.

I do have a theory, however--a few actually. Whatever the truth is, he feels consumingly guilty about it and uttering it would make it entirely too real. He continues to blame this on me and now the new scape goat decision that I made is not going to Miami, "You chose San Diego over me." Well, yes, but you cheated on me, lied to me, and gave me no reason to believe that any of that would change in Miami even if I were to take the requested "leap of faith" and go down there.

And I went to J. after the hospital scene earlier. He's out of town for the weekend and I wanted to say bye. We were talking about what happened and how Michael (or anyone) has a vision of himself and his life and then something happens that makes you realize that you are not the person who you want to be...and it makes you feel awful about yourself. To me there would only be one option--change whatever you didn't like and act with conviction. J. said there's another that is just accepting the flaws and living with them. I said that sounded hollow. I'm afraid that is what Mike has done, though.

The real theme of his conversation, however, as I was trying to say goodbye and get the truth out of him for once was, "You need to go home!" He must have said it about 100 times--no hyperbole, seriously. He would point to the door or the floor or raise his eyebrows for emphasis, like I was a dog or something. "Come here." Pointing to the floor, "You need to go!" Ugh. Ridiculous. And I'm sobbing and trying to have an actual give and take conversation with him.

Everytime I would ask him something difficult, he'd either tell me I needed to leave or that I was "not stable" and he would "talk to me later." I kept asking him to just tell me goodbye. He couldn't do it. He can't end it. He just kept saying later, later, later. I told him we're out of laters (and have been for a while). "I'm going," by this time we were in my car, soaking wet from the downpour outside, "I'll talk to you later."

"I don't think so." I said, I'd been sobbing for most of the conversation, and was soaked from being in the thunderstorm. I'm not sure he heard me since he slammed the car door and walked back to his apartment. I got out of the car and walked around in the rain more. It felt good to wash away some of the tears--or disguise them. And the coolness of it felt real and honest.

He did say some nice things: "I'll always love you." "You mean a lot to me." "I'll always love you most." "I miss you." "You're not stable, but it's okay because I love you anyway." (He actually came up with that last one without prompting.) True? Not true? Telling me just what I want to hear?

He doesn't know what he wants to happen with us. I told him I was giving him the "permenant out" and all he had to do was say goodbye. I just wanted him to awknowledge that it was good bye. "I don't want a permanent out," he said. He sure does act like he does sometimes. He's not sure when he'll "talk to me later." He agreed that he would "come find me" when I was more stable and he wanted to talk and realizes what he's missing. Most of these thoughts, you have to understand, are me asking him questions and partially putting words in his mouth...he mostly just agrees, disagrees, stays silent, says "I don't know" or "I have to go."

He does look at me and kiss me when he says he loves me. At least there is that.

I hope I can stop letting him hurt me now.

My therapist warned me to be able to accept whatever happened during our goodbye--and that he might not be able to give me what I envisioned. At least it was in the rain. The weather matched the scene. I said all I could think of to say at the moment, through the tears. I acted the way I envisioned...and wanted. He didn't play the part I wanted him to entirely, but at least I got a few nice things out of him...if not a goodbye.

I asked him how he'd envisioned saying goodbye to me, "I don't know." Shocking.

Once I'd walked around in the rain a bit after he was back inside, I got all went and cold and finally got into my car and drove back to my place. I actually felt okay, "I should get an Oscar," I thought, remembering the crying in the rain. I laughed to myself for a moment before the tears returned with the thought that it's easy to "act" when the emotions are so real. When the hurt is so tangible.

So I'm home now. At least my computer started right up; it has been tempermental lately. And the thunderstorm and tornado warnings are still going on. I figure I won't have many thunderstorms in San Diego, so I will try to enjoy this one. I had something to eat--the first meal today, maybe in a couple days, I can't remember.

Maybe I'll watch a movie tonight. Or try to go to bed early. There is some fleeting relief in this stage of the goodbye. Sweet relief.