We left off with The Text:
“Hey Laura, I have started to see someone here. Not sure what it is right now or where it is going, but I wanted to let you know given the nature of our communication. Still want to hear from you all the time of course. Very much value our friendship.”
My heart sank to the floor, and all I wanted to do was sit there in the middle of Target picking up the pieces. Granted this reaction wasn’t solely based on this one text or mine and Sam’s relationship alone. 2018 was a rough year mind you. I didn’t know what the fluff I was doing, my parents were getting a divorce, and I was trying to finish my MS degree one sentence at a time.
Needless to say, it was a lot. I was also coming to the harsh realization the guy I had been seeing off and on all summer, wasn’t coming around either. I think earlier that same day, I had texted him asking him what we were, what we ever could be. I didn’t get the answer I was looking for there either. It was a rough day. Target was my therapy, and it took all I had not to let the weight of the day leave me hopelessly crying in the home décor section. I mean it smelled nice there…I could’ve stayed for a little while.
Thank fuck for good girlfriends! Truly if you don’t have them…find them. The one I was with during the news, who had dragged my ass to Target in the first place, was with me. I explained to her the situation, and she kept me upright talking until we got to the car where I just bawled a little.
I responded to the text in my sassy wit and charming way.
“Thanks for letting me know! Glad we can remain friends. I’ll be Brett’s date for the wedding! ;)”
“Don’t take things too fast. I’ve just met her.”
“I know Sam, but I’m not naïve enough to think this is the first girl that has come into your life since we met…yet it’s the first one you’ve mentioned. Best of Luck! We both know Brett will need chaperoning!”
“Touché. Be in touch.”
This is me being strong. This is me keeping my walls up. This is me protecting my heart from the only man allowing me to keep faith in the whole male race at this point, and he tells me over text “We are just friends.” It was the right thing to do. It was the respective thing to do for his relationship. I’ve told my various friends this story, and they cannot see a flaw in it. They do not see a single flaw in him.
Over the next 15 months, I started to see the flaws. I started to see we were never really friends. Friends check-in. Friends text back. Friends acknowledge you exist. I’m not saying he was a bad person for not doing these things. I am saying that I should have realized then we never had a true friendship. We were more than friends. He kept his access to me via a ‘friendship.’
I spent the next 15 months getting over him. With every unreturned text or well wish that got ignored. It got a little easier. He was still on my mind, but he was fading into the memories of him more and more each month. When I heard a song that reminded me of him, sometimes I’d text, sometimes I’d smile and move on with my day.
Then it happened. I was having brunch with Brett when he broke the news Sam and his new girl had moved in together. The shock knocked the wind out of me, and I swear it took a million years for that Bloody Mary to hit my lips. After 5 seconds, I was out of the trance. I don’t think anyone noticed my absence from the conversation or the blank stare in my eye as I processed the short statement that had just crushed all my future hope.
I went on the rest of that day like nothing had happened. I got in my car. As soon as I was North on 95 leaving Miami, the tears flooded my sight. I called my bestie who knew our history all too well. I swore to her he’d never make me feel this way again. I was really done. I even stated I knew I’d said it before, but this time I meant it. I couldn’t keep doing this to myself. I couldn’t keep holding onto someone who wasn’t even talking to me. But even as the words came spilling out of my mouth so fierce, so deliberate, so certain, I knew in the depths of me it was a lie. I knew there was still hope deep inside of me. I knew parts of me still truly wanted to be with him. Parts of me inside of me that knew that I was still holding on. Why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we hold on to the people that hurt us the hardest? Why can’t we just let go of that pain?
I don’t remember going to bed that evening. I had too many drinks balling on the phone. I woke up the next morning Day 1 of Recovery. I was breaking my emotional addiction to Sam.
I was 3 months into my deep recovery. I wasn’t seeing anyone. I wasn’t seriously dating anyone. I wasn’t even finding the comfort fuck I loved so much to give the validation and attention we all desire as human beings. I was breaking the addiction. I went cold turkey. I was fucking done with men for a little while, even if the hopeful wishes of Sam and Texas lingered in the back of my mind. I knew it was time to stop inviting this pain into my life.
Then like the perfect plot twist in your favorite drama, his silence was broken with a simple message. The first conversation initiated by him in roughly 2 years.
‘Hi, how have you been?’
‘Good and you?’
I relapsed.
Over the next few days, he started every convo just to say hi. It was back to the old ways. But this time I was a little stronger than all the years before. I had learned something over those 3 months…Call him on his shit!
“You broke up with her didn’t you?”
“Yes, 2 weeks ago.”
Hindsight 20/20 I was the easy rebound. He knew I’d be there. He knew I’d at least entertain him. You know as a ‘friend.’ It’s as simple as that isn’t it ladies. How easily…how simple the hurt melts away with a single gesture from them. It always comes after we’ve done some of the work. After we think we are a little stronger and won’t fall for this again…it’s as if a test from the Universe asking, ‘Are you really done this time?’
I wasn’t done. We started talking. He built my faith in him little by little. He built my faith with every little message
‘Goodmorning, sleep well?’
‘Goodnight beautiful .xo’
He knew how much those little messages made me smile. I had told him years ago how much they meant to me. I had given him every piece to the puzzle to win my heart and in those few weeks, he was using them. Until the cheap comment:
‘Nice bum! I miss that bum!’
Maybe it wasn’t that comment word for word, but it was a cheap cheeky comment to that extent. Whatever it was, it triggered me. I left the message on read for my entire work shift, and while enjoying my post-shift drink at the bar I responded back with a little liquid courage.
“You cannot do this to me. You cannot use me as a rebound. I care for you. I have always cared too much for you. I have let you into the parts of me that not everyone gains access to. This isn’t a simple flirtation in my mind. We can be friends. We can chat, but I can’t go back to the way things were. I can’t do the seeming less innocent flirtation that isn’t going anywhere, because I want that flirtation to go somewhere. I will start caring too much, and I can’t let you in like that again unless we will actually be something more. We can be friends, but we can’t be these kinds of friends all over again.”
It was bold. I was so proud of standing in my truth. I was proud of myself for standing up for myself. That was new for me, and I was damn proud. Still now with everything, I am proud of this moment because I let him know. I didn’t question later if he knew how I felt. He knew.
That was in March. Early March. He respected the boundary. He didn’t talk to me too much. He did wish me a Happy Birthday like a good friend would do, and a few other generic messages here and there.
Then late June came with the message I thought would change everything:
‘I miss you. Come visit me.’
Funny enough I had been looking into flights earlier that week to make a trip to the Cape. One return option was through his city. How easy would it be to stop in for a few days, and see him? How wonderful would that be? I looked into changing the flight. It was an easy extra $34, I changed. I was excited.
Then COVID got worse again, I canceled my trip altogether. It seemed to be the responsible thing to do. I wanted to see everyone, but in reality, it didn’t seem right for some reason. He suggested I drive to see him that weekend instead. I put it off.
Mid-July hit. I don’t know if it was being so grounded that had me itching to travel, I don’t sit still well. Or the $200 flight credit I had burning a hole in my pocket. Either way, I messaged the friends on the Cape, it wasn’t good timing. I sent Sam the message,
‘Last weekend in July?’
His response, pay attention to the response it matters later…
‘That weekend is no good. I will be getting the research cruise out on their way. I’ll be swamped with work. What about the following weekend?’
‘First weekend in August?’
‘Yes’
‘Booked!’
I was so excited! I could barely wait! Was this it…was this the answer for our perfect rom-com ending to the last 5 years of back and forth. I was trying my best to have no expectations. I’ve realized over the past 3 years my expectations are typically too high and I need to live in reality. Between these split thought processes, I didn’t know what to do or say or think or expect.
All I knew, I was excited. Something deep down inside of me wanted to see him. I had to see what was going on. What this could be. I couldn’t wait to see him. I knew he would make me so happy, even if it was only for those 5 days.
Those 5 days were perfect. It had been over 2 years since I had seen him last. He looked the same. He smelled the same. He had the same charming wit about him. He waited on me hand and foot, paid for everything, held my hand walking down the street, it was everything…like a fairytale…or just how life is between two people who are in love with each other. Two normal people in love…to me that is a fairytale!
Monday before I left, we talked about the visits that would happen in the fall. I’d go there or he’d come here. You know those empty promises that don’t seem so empty when they are leaving your lips. He kissed me with a tight squeeze goodbye. I still didn’t know what we were, I didn’t care. I knew there was still something for me to hold on to with him. That’s what I needed. He was what I needed.
The next few days were confusing. We barely spoke, and we went back to me initiating every conversation. I don’t like it when it comes to that. I don’t know why it matters so much, but damnit it matters if there is no effort on their side.
The following Saturday, only 6 days after I had left his side. Six days after the empty promises, and hopeful goodbyes. I sent him a provocative picture of me in bed fully covered with a little skin showing through, you know the tasteful kind with a caption that read,
‘Wish you were here.’
Three hours went by without a response. God I should’ve seen the writing on the wall, especially when he just returned the flirtation with
‘How’s the weather there?’
I couldn’t believe it what? How’s the weather?!? Not I miss that bum, I miss you next to me, my bed still smells like you…nothing to show any emotion. I played it cool, acted like nothing was wrong with the response. We chit chatted about random things from the weekend before.
I didn’t understand that response, and I was trying not to over-analyze it. I know I’ve over-analyzed my life away in relationships and I’m working on letting things just be and see how they play out. So, the internal me said ‘Fuck it, I don’t care about his response. I know how I feel, and I’m going with that. I care for this man. I will continue to show up as someone who cares.’ That was my truth at this moment.
Till exactly 3 weeks after I was boarding a flight to go visit him, an innocent conversation with a good mutual female friend of us both turned into a harsh realization. With the simple comment,
‘Sam has always liked me.’
I could tell from that one comment something more was there. There was an interest there more than just friends from Sam. He was interested in the same “friendship” he had with me with her. He had mentioned a visit from her…some time, you know late July. She told me this and my heart sank…yes FUCKING AGAIN!
She didn’t go. She couldn’t go. She is figuring out her own life, but with that invitation from Sam to her. I knew. I finally knew 5 years after we met, I wasn’t special after all. I knew I was just another number. I was just another body for his bed.
The 2 weeks that have followed since this realization have been filled with questions and realities. The main question I had was:
Was I a fool who fell for him? Or was this real at any point for him?
You know what we do when we have these questions ladies, we go back to the beginning. I looked through those old messages for proof. Proof I wasn’t a fool after all. I wasn’t.
Those first 6 months after we met. That was where the magic was for me. That was what I had hung onto after all these years. In those first 6 months, he had told his Nan about me…his Nan! He had told me he adored me and how nothing had ever brightened his day as much as seeing my name pop up on his phone in the middle of the day. One late night he had even told me he was falling in love with me. Maybe that had only been a late-night drunken confession, but men out there…if a woman cares for you. She holds on to those words like gold. Words like that can get her through almost anything if she feels the same towards you.
I hadn’t been a fool. He knew. He knew the hold on me, and he used that hold to get me into his bed. Time and time again over the past 5 years. I’ve never felt more used in my life. I’ve never felt more betrayed.
That’s the main feeling coming out here, betrayal.
That’s it. That is all I have to tell you for now. I want to end this with some profound statement that will leave you in ‘Awww’ to come back for me, but I think this is it. Betrayal from the one person you opened up vulnerably to and who you truly believed was the last person who would use you…that hurt, that pain, I don’t have words to describe it yet.
It’s been almost 2 weeks since I found out. I blocked him from all communication a week ago. I did this without explanation on my end. He just cannot contact me. My friend called me strong for this. I don’t feel strong, I feel tired. I feel weak with no other option or solution. I can no longer fight to keep people in my life who aren’t keeping the promises they made to get there in the first place. I’m tired of the same old shit with a different guy. I’m tired of trying to convince others to treat me with the same care, respect, and trust I give them. I’m just tired.
I’m just tired and betrayed.
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