The ex… the telling of this is going to be a long and painful and no doubt rambling and winding and often back tracking story of pain and addiction and debauchery on both sides. In the nick of case no one read the fine print at the head of this blog… the part about my being as emotionally stable as a bag of rats in a flaming meth lab… this is where you will come to understand and believe that. Get your barf bags ready. I will break this up over many pieces for readability and to allow me to recall and to write in an unbiased , as much as is possible, way.
This will also give me a way of sorting this out for real in my own head so that I am not beating myself up for imagined stuff and accepting the responsibility for those things that I am guilty of.
Preface; the first. We were high school sweet hearts. She was the school slut and I was the oldest virgin on campus… I am still sure of it. I was messed up about sex even back then. She was Long and lean and easy on the eyes. But she had issues with boys. From her perspective, if she didn't have sex with boys then they wouldn't like her or so she thought. She was smart and a good person. She was, however, abused at some young age by one or more of her mother's boy friends. So she had/s issues. I had issues of Nerdism and suffered from acute Ganglitude compounded by a chronic case of Hormoneitis. (I was 6'3' and way skinny with no self esteem stemming in no small part because I was not the son my father dreamed of having. I didn't want to get up before God and go "Slay the fish," or drink coffee or smoke cigarettes while sitting silently, so as not to scare the afore mentioned illusive and possibly/probably, none-existent, in my thinking because we almost never caught any, because I couldn't sit still enough while freezing or not drinking coffee or, or, or… imaginary fish, in a boat on a lake freezing my ass off when I could be warm and cozy in bed, or watching cartoons or building stuff with my huge cache of Lego's. I could go on but I think that paints the picture well enough for the time being. We were a match made in… where ever they make very volatile, poisonous, toxic, slow acting, neurotoxin time bombs.
It is my sincere belief that she subscribed to the school of thinking that once you had a Boyfriend/fiancé/husband sex stopped. I, on the other hand, was of the school that once "that" door/box, thank you Pandora, is opened you take the hinges off and burn the doors… does the phrase unhinged say anything, I think that paints the picture well enough. I was a late bloomer and I meant to make up for, imagined, lost time… and I have an IMAGINATION!
3 comments:
Imagination can be really bad or really good, depending on who you sleep with. :)
You know, I'm kind of curious to see where you're going with this series of posts. I have to say, your promise that this will paint you in an unfavorable light is... I'm not even sure what to think of it. However it sounds like you have stuff to let out.
If I can offer a very small bit of advice (did I mention it's very very small?), I would say just be careful to keep this about you. The context of your relationship with your ex is relevant, but it's what it did to you that is interesting.
In my relationship with my ex, I was a willful participant in what went down. I was ignorant of the things I know today, but that doesn't make me less guilty or less involved in deciding at the time that I wanted to pursue it further even though I wasn't happy.
Anyway, sorry for going on a tangent. I'm looking forward to read your next post.
If I had to guess it sounds like, and this is only a guess mind you, it sounds like we took similar paths for a time. I will not, however, cast aspersions on how you followed that path because I know as you say I was ignorant of what I know now but hind sight is a very sharp double edged sword.
Currently I am having a crisis of... well a crisis in my head regarding this it may be a while before I get any of this furthered.
I hope that the purging of your soul will let go of some old demons and allow you to fully heal. Over this last year I have been trying hard to reflect on my part in the failure of marriage but as Fruit Taster said, focusing on “my part” is crucial to the journey.
Hind sight always provides more clarity but history has a way of being rewritten in small subtle ways. Without the other side we “perceive” how they felt or how they reacted. I find myself guessing and assuming the whys. This isn’t always productive but I hope it is for you ;)
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