If you are like me and grew up feeling out of place and unloved, then you probably had a re-occurring theme of bad relationships in your life. What was worse than the actual relationship (if you can even call them that), is the shame of enduring such disrespectful and bad treatment. I couldn’t put words to why I would stay and justify taking the abuse (and yes, cheating is abuse). This was the last time that I said I would be in THAT PLACE EVER AGAIN! I promised my God and I promised myself that I would alone for the rest of my life before I would be desperate enough to enter another situation that dishonored my soul. I decided to share this entry here, in hopes that it would help put language to feelings that you could never quite locate, extract, and examine. It’s an exorcism of sorts, to expose the hidden thing so that it can be confronted and done away with forever.
But the connection just feels so strong!
I was talking to the Holy Ghost this morning about why I’m still struggling shutting down this door. It’s clear that this man doesn’t have any real affection for me because I’m not even a person to him. I don’t have feelings, thoughts, hopes, and dreams that he cares about. I am a conquest, another body to add to his count, a thing for him to do. And I know it. Yet and still, when I see my phone light up and his name comes up, there’s a pull. I had already shut it down, walked away, ignored texts and Facebook likes. I had had my mic drop statements, talked my girlfriend’s ear off, gone to my therapist. I had done everything that I was supposed to do once I caught a mouth full of sand and realized that I had become infatuated with yet another mirage. But none of that was enough. Remembering how he didn’t even want to kiss me, is not enough. Remembering how his contact pattern changed immediately after I let him touch me, is not enough. Remembering how he pulled down my pants and panties before I knew what was happening and I was laying on my bed trying to sort what I had actually said yes to and what I didn’t say yes to, is not enough. Remembering him saying that nothing really happened even as I still felt the imprint of him in my body, is not enough. Remembering how he left my house and then called back for me to console him because he felt guilty because he’s married and I did it while my heart broke silently, is still not enough. Remembering how I felt once I realized that all my intelligence, my caring, my feverish performance to demonstrate how much value I could add to his life was all an exercise of futility, is still not enough. Remembering how robbed I felt after I kicked him out of my life, is still not enough. After it has been some weeks and the fire of the anger has died down and the passion of the hurt dissipated, I realize I’m still susceptible to being robbed again by a self-professed thief. And I had to ask the Holy Ghost, why?
Please keep tuning in to hear the rest of the story . . .