My One-Night-Stand of a life

Interesting piece in New York magazine, which I only heard about today from a friend.

It made me very sad.  And of course, in some ways, the writer and I couldn't be more opposite.  She is an impressive and accomplished woman, a few years older than me, who went to Harvard and has published nationally known books.  I went to mediocre state schools and have a good job, but not at all prestigious.  The people I graduated law school with don't look down on me to my face.  But I know I'm a tier down from them all.  And yet, I wouldn't trade my finances with her finances.  No way.  I own my house.  I max out my retirement each year and have since the Roth IRA was invented (although I did miss one year). I just switched to a fifteen year mortgage, and that's my only debt. I think I'm the only person at my job that when I go for my annual retirement counseling, the counselor says "well, you're fine for retirement, but if you're looking at wealth management...."  Which is really funny on my 70K a year salary.  I owe MaxEarnest money and won't pay him back until I get my tax refund, and I'm waiting on that to try and save a little bit of money for my Roth this year.  But my long-term financials are fine and  then I start to think, well, maybe I do want to look at creating wealth for my children or grandchildren.  I will inherit some money someday, and I've always known I wanted to put that aside for the kids or grand-kids   

And that's where my one-night stand of a life comes crashing down.  Wurtzel and I, well I can't say we're equally lonely because I don't know her life.  But I have a feeling that our dark-nights-of-the-soul may look pretty similar.

Wurtzel has never kissed a man when she wasn't completely smitten.  I don't trust being smitten.  I am smitten  by men who are hard to get.  I'm never good at playing hard-to-get; I love someone quickly and want to jump in with both feet.  The irony, of course, is that MaxEarnest was the least hard to get man that I truly loved, but he still lived on the other side of the fucking Atlantic.  And, deep down, we want different, not-mutually-compatible things.

I don't trust the men that make me feel like Bobby did or like John did.  I fall head over heels, very quickly, and then the rug gets pulled out from under me.  And so I try and date men like Tony who do seem sensible on paper.  I don't know what is the sensible thing to do.  I would be smart, if I only I knew the smart way to be smart.

Like Wurtzel, I don't want to die alone.  I don't want to get old alone.  Ideally, I don't want to have kids alone.  I never did heroine (like Wurtzel).  I've had a much more mediocre life, facing the fact that I'm not special.  I'm normal.  I fit in.  Which is what part of me always wanted, so maybe that's why I've never achieved anything extraordinary.  No agent is going to read my blog and offer me a book.  My cats love me.  My parents love me.  MaxEarnest loved me; still loves me even after I hurt him so badly.  Dotty loves me.  But Dotty is my best friend, and I know she has at least 4 women that view her that way.  

I've been cutting some people out of my life. In addition to Tony, I dropped one of the three women I considered a 'best friend,"  whom I've known since college.  She's been stuck for at least a decade, and I've been begging her to get help and she refuses and last month she screamed at me and hung up the phone.  I've decided that until she apologizes and gets help, I can't have her in my life.  I loaned her $3300 last summer and I doubt seriously that she'll pay me back any time soon.  And that's OK. I did tell her that I wouldn't loan her money like that again, that she had to start planning for the future, and living more like me and less like Wurtzel. I do think she'll pay me back, someday, if she can.  And if she can't, well, that isn't why we lost the friendship. I can miss a Roth contribution for another year.

If only my emotional life had the resilience of my finances.

Deeply sad

I'm deeply sad over MaxEarnest.  I think he is right.  I think he is wise.  I honestly think our lives don't fit together and I want someone who I can build a life with.  But it makes me deeply, deeply sad.

I'm trying to accept the sadness and not numb out to it.  I guess that's all I can do right now.  But it is hard to feel the hollowness reverberating in my bones and not just want to get cynical or get drunk.

I saw Tony at work today and that was odd in that I do not understand who he is at all.  I barely recognized him.  But I can picture MaxEarnest with my eyes closed.

Last night, I slept with his fleece.  I wish I could curl up in a cave and hibernate with him for a winter.

It sucks when the head and the heart are so divided.

Letting go? Moving on?

Well, MaxEarnest made it clear that we can't be together on an occasional basis.  And I'm so sad.

I sort of felt like that had to happen when I broke things off with Tony.

I think I hurt MaxEarnest by putting my CollarMe profile on-line without having talked to him first.  But I didn't really think (I suppose that's the problem).  It was a reaction to breaking up with Tony.  And, of course, I knew MaxEarnest and I would never actually have a full-time life together.  And I know I do want to be able to interweave my life with someone else's.  But fuck, I do still love MaxEarnest.

Part of me thinks it is for the best.  But part of me feels like I've torn out my heart.  I was very scared that I might meet someone else in a few months that I might want to see what would happen, and I didn't know how that would work and also protest MaxEarnest's heart.  But I thought I was being honest.  Maybe I wasn't clear.  I used to think I was pretty good at communicating.  But that, clearly was hubris.

I feel awful both because I feel like I hurt MaxEarnest again and because I feel like I've lost part of my heart.   I know he thinks I'm behaving, he wouldn't say badly, but his eyes said it.  I let him down.  He didn't say it, but his eyes did.  

I know he and I see the world so differently.  Part of it, of course, is that he's a guy and I'm a gal; he's a man and I'm a woman; he's European and I'm American.  He lives in the present and I plan for the future.

If I could wave a magic wand and change, I would.

But I suppose that is something else I should try and change--my desire to constantly try and change.

I guess, I'm so bifurcated, I thought I could get some of what I ache for from Tony and still have the good things of MaxEarnest.  But I suppose that just isn't who I am or who MaxEarnest is.

I don't know what is worse--feeling like I've hurt him or feeling like I've hurt me.  And yet, ultimately, part of me knows we didn't know how to make it work.  It would, as MaxEarnest said, be a dead end.  I don't know why--last week I thought he was OK with having some time together today, without any promise of a tomorrow.  But he is probably right.  

MaxEarnest gave me an orchid for my birthday and it still has four blossoms on it.  My head says that it is right to let him go (not that I have a choice) but my heart just screams no! Stop time! Come back! I love you! I don't want to do this life alone!  We love each other.  And that is not enough.

Sometimes it is hard to ring the bells that can still ring.  Somehow, my heart feels so cracked already, I just want to clutch it closed.

And now, back to our regularly scheduled programming

Not sure if it was useful to post my drunk blogging last night.  But it is truthful and maybe it is more interesting than self-indulgent.  I suppose any personal blog like this has to be self-indulgent.

I've been trying to figure out why the break-up with Tony bothered me so much.  I was in a really good space before it happened, clear about what I wanted and that this wasn't enough.

But what I didn't expect was the Sally problem and the Tony problem.

First the Sally problem.  When Sally finds out that her ex-boyfriend is getting married, Harry asks her if she would want to be with him, and she says no, but why didn't he want to be with her.  There was a little bit of that going on.  How did a many who, 3 months ago, would say things like "I'm just so happy that you are into me" start to take me for granted.  It really hurt, in part because I don't have any clue as to what happened.

While my goal was to be as kind as possible yesterday and give him whatever time could give closure and be kind, I didn't take good care of myself in that moment.  I was trying to be kind to him.  And he was very upset, not that I was breaking up with him, but that I'd put him in such an awkward situation at our shared job.  He 'accused' me of suggesting he apply for that job (which isn't true--he really wanted an entree into that field and when a co-worker found out his specialization, the co-worker asked if Tony wanted to apply). He seemed to feel like I had tried to trap him and now he would be in a very awkward situation.  He wanted me to lie to the co-worker about us still being together (even though the co-worker is a good friend, and Tony and I stayed at the co-worker's guest house).  When I said I'd say "we had an amicable parting; do whatever is right for the program," Tony got really upset and went on about how he wouldn't have applied for this job if I hadn't suggested it.

He said the job changed how he felt about me.  The contract was very explicit that Tony couldn't have sex with any of the clients.  It was boilerplate--my contract says the same thing.  Even the ones that are over 16 are off-limits, obviously.  I joked about that several times.  I said "this is just my nefarious plot so that you can't meet anyone else."  It was a total joke.  Obviously I didn't get him the job, that was 3 hours a week, as a way to keep him from ever meeting anyone else.  But I think maybe that wasn't wise.  I think once he took the job, he started to feel trapped.

The truth is, I was never in love with him, and I probably never would have been.  I thought we could make a good team.  I was dating with my head, not my heart.

But I also had NO clue about how selfish he was.  It didn't come across as self-centered as much as idea-centered.  He is obsessed with philosophy.  Hours re-reading 50-year-old books about ancient philosophers.  But it became a way of only caring about his ideas, and never caring about mine.

I don't know what the moral is here.  I don't know if I should always follow my heart (MaxEarnest) or try to figure out how to plan for the future I want.  I don't want the hope of a future to destroy the present, but I don't want the present to erase the chance to have a family.  Tony was a 'sensible' thing to pursue.  Thank god I dodged that sensible bullet!

Disclaimer

I've had much too much to drink in the last 2 hours.  So much that I started stumbling and a friend took me home.  I haven't stumbled in public since college.  It was this lovely vodka cordial. I think it it was pure alcohol.  If this looks coherent, it is only because of spell check.

I get home from a party.  I've drunk much too much.  My fingers tingle.  The crown of my head pulses in a way it hasn't for years.

I'm crying.  A dry sob, and then I bite the palm of my hand.

I hope I didn't make a fool of myself at the party, but I did drink much too much.  I can't believe how late it is, though.  The time flew by.  Flew.  I got there at 8:30 and it is already 1:30.  Where did 5 hours that felt like 1 go.

I can't believe he cared more about work being 'awkward' than he cared about me.

After I type that sentence, I have to stop and get the sobs under control.

But there it is.

I wonder if he ever actually cared about me.

Deep down, I know he did.  Or think he did.  But is it only hope that he did? Until January, he was so delighted that I was interested in him, he would say things like "I can't believe you're into me."  And then, somehow, we lost it.

I still can't believe he cared more about not feeling awkward at work than he did about trying to stay with me.

He didn't even try and say he'd change or that he really wanted to be with me.  

He is a little shit.  He got under my skin and then he took that for granted.  He took me for granted.  And my cooking and cleaning and getting him his favorite foods and helping him with work.  I was so stupid.  I should never had drunk this much--but I really didn't think I was drinking that much--two glasses and they weren't even wine glasses, they were beautiful, delicate and fairly petite flutes, without stems--no more than, I'd guess, 4 ounces in each glass, and I put 3 ice-cubes in each glass and only had two glasses--what the hell was in that?  I couldn't taste the alcohol.  I feel the crown of my head pulsing. I've drunk too much

Part of me says I shouldn't publish this.  Part of me says this in probably more interesting than most of what I publish.  No one reads my blog anyway.   Of the 51 page views yesterday, 19 of them were from Russia.  Well, actually, I'm a little pleased that 21 were from the U.S.  Is that prejudice?  But I assume every  hit from Russia is a mafia boss trying to do identity theft and every hit from the U.S. is a boy trying to get off on kinky stuff with adult warnings.  I'm sorry.  Really.  I'd make it kinkier, but I just don't think subtly in that way.  Maybe someone reads my blog.  But why?  Some people like my blog, but that doesn't translate to real life.  Except MaxEarnest.  He's the only one willing to put up with my rough edges.  And he and I, well the fucking Atlantic!  Just when I think I can handle it, it gets bigger!  Not only are there oceans between us, but even the oceans are getting bigger.  I want someone more than this generation to care about.  (sobbing break.)

I think I should drink some water and try and stay up until I sober up a little bit.  I can't believe how drunk I am.  I can't believe he didn't care about me, a little.  Part of me says that maybe he did.  He had to know something was up--I texted him "I think we should talk" earlier in the day.  Maybe that is just his coping mechanism.  Or maybe not.  

Something changed in the last month between us.  I really don't know what it was, but something changed.  I wish I knew what it was that did it.  I can't believe that getting his the job was what doomed our relationship; he wanted it so badly. And even if that was what doomed our relationship, well better now than later.  Sooner or later, I would have done whatever I could have to have helped him.  And he really wanted that introduction.  Maybe it wasn't the introduction; maybe it was that I helped him get the job he always wanted and he couldn't handle two things at one time.  I don't know.  I don't think this was my fault.  

It is amazing how quickly my hard-wrought self-esteem disappears.

Part of me thinks this is for the best.  I have no regrets.  He made it very clear I did the right thing.

But it really would have been nice if he had apologized.  It would have been nice if he had made an effort.  But I suppose if he were the kind of man to make an effort, he would have done that already.

I have so much to offer the right person.  But I seem to live in a world where "Here Comes Honey Boo Boo" gets twice the ratings of a Bill Moyers documentary.  And I'm more of a Bill Moyers than a Here comes honey boo boo" kind of girl.  And the BIll Moyers men are married already.

Dotty can't imagine I will be alone.  I love her and respect her so much.  But I think she is wrong about us all.  She thinks we'll all find husbands.  I think she is delusional...   I am beginning to think I should just throw up.  But I don't know how.  I really drank much too much.  If i focus hard, I can be clear and coherent.  But I'm just trying to stay awake another half hour so I can sleep through the night.

What do I know:

I love MaxEarnest, but he doesn't want to make a life with me or doesn't see a way our lives are compatible.  On my good days, I say he is clear about what is good for him.  When I'm feeling self-pitying, I feel he doesn't love me enough to compromise.  Go with the good days.  He knows what is good for him and what wouldn't be.  Just as I do.  But we recognized each other. Named each other. Love each other.

John loved me.  And he was ill and recognized it and tried to protect me.  He loved me.

I think Tony was shocked when I told him I wouldn't be his friend.  But 'friend' means something to me and it wouldn't have been reciprocal.  He collects ex-girlfriends and I don't want to be part of that collection.

Oy, there is some good stuff here, but too much booze.  And I have to sleep.  Water, then sleep.  "Hangovers are 90% dehydration."  See, I learned something in high school health!  

So, to publish?  What the hell.  My blog is basically therapy in public.  Well-analyzed ideas (mostly--at least from my perspective) that are coherent, instead of the free-wheeling, tangents my mind usually plays.  Well, free-wheeling, alcohol fueled tangent, here you come!


Update:  I just threw up.  A lot.  (Like a quart!) I haven't drunk so much I threw up since college.  I must say I feel much better.  I'm not worried about having to stay up anymore--only that I'll sleep longer if I wait a bit. But I really don't understand. I literally had 2 drinks that were probably 4 ounces each, including ice and room at the top.  What the hell was in those drinks?  I don't understand.  I hope like hell I didn't make a fool of myself.  I'll text the lovely hostess an apology tomorrow.  I remember working like hell to control my behaviour once I realized I'd drunk too much.  Mostly trying to shut up and not dominate the conversation, but at the end thinking "is this what alcohol poisoning feels like?" And then I stumbled and she got me home.  I probably talked too much about myself, but I don't think I embarrassed her.  I apologized (probably too often) for having drunk too much and one of my friends said something like "wow--you are the best behaved drunk I've ever seen--I don't ever want you to see me drunk."  So, hopefully that ridiculous, self-conscious monitoring of my behavior kept me from embarrassing the hostess or making a fool of myself.  There was someone at the party I'd like to keep in touch with!

I assume normal people don't monitor their behaviour so carefully when they're drunk.  Or ever.  I wonder what it would be like to just talk without self-censure.

Clarity. And a little sadness.

It was pouring rain and the coffee shop I intended to go to was closed.  We walked through the Seattle sunshine and it felt like the perfect backdrop for a movie breakup.

I kept reminding myself to breathe and be kind.  I think I was kind.

Tony was, in my opinion, a bit of a twit.  He didn't apologize for anything, just focused on how it would affect him for his 3-hour-a-week job that I got him.  He didn't want me to say anything to my closest friend at work.  (The two of us had stayed at that friend's house, so it seems unlikely that I could just not say anything for 4 more months.)  I said I would say "we had an amicable parting--do what is best for the program" and Tony was really unhappy with that.  I told him I wouldn't lie to my friend, and my friend would ask how we were, so what did he want me to say, and he was quite frustrated with me.  He really felt like I had put him in an awkward position at work.  I said "yeah, it will be awkward for a week, but we're grown-ups and we respect each other and we'll get over it."  It seemed to want me to apologize for putting him in such an awkward situation by passing his resume on, when he had been talking about how much he wanted it several months ago and then breaking up with him when he started being complacent and taking me for granted.  (I made it clear that I didn't 'get him the job.'  I just passed his resume on.)

I did my best to be kind.  But he wanted to stay friends and I said no.  Frankly, I expect better behaviour from my friends, and I kind of told him that. For friends, I want thoughtful people that think about my needs too.

But I think I was kind and I am clear I did the right thing.  But I'm sad.  I don't know what changed between us.  And it seemed like he cared more about the 3-hour-a-week job I got him than about me.  He even acknowledged that everything changed between us once he started that job.   I told him I want to be cherished and I want to cherish in a loving family.  I hope the universe brings me that. But I'm sad and wonder.

Break-up Eve

I'm writing this on Thursday, the 21st.

I bought myself a Valentine's Day orchid today (at Costco) but was a good girl and put the Valentine's Day Belgian chocolates back.  I'm buying my own flowers and dumping the boyfriend, I joked to my friend.

I have never broken up with anyone.  It takes a certain sense of self-worth to break up with a man because he is taking me for granted.

Intellectually, I know I have dated pretty steadily since 2005, but I still have this feeling of the gal no one wanted.  And breaking up with Tony feels like losing a chance to be with MaxEarnest too, as weird as this is. It would be much easier to be with MaxEarnest again if I were staying with Tony.  MaxEarnest was originally not interested in being a third member of an  open-relationship, but that seemed to be changing.  He wanted to talk about it last week and I blew him off because I felt like there was an 80% chance I'm breaking up with Tony (and now I think there's a 90% chance).  I wanted to keep the issues with Tony clean and it felt really unfair to Tony to tell MaxEarnest that I thought I'd be breaking up with him before I told Tony!  If I break up with Tony, which I will, and MaxEarnest and I started seeing each other again, I'm scared that I will hurt him again.  I love MaxEarnest.  I still do.  Best relationship of my life.  But I want to meet someone I can build a life with.  Just because Tony isn't that man doesn't change that underlying fact.  I don't know if MaxEarnest will want to go through this sort of emotional roller-coaster and I can't promise him anything else.

So, why am I break up: Two weeks ago, right around when Tony told me he didn't do Valentine's day,  I told Tony that I was feeling taken for granted and I wanted to go out for a nice, romantic date.  That I wanted to be surprised and that it was important to me and let's do it in the next 2 weeks.  Well, it hasn't happened, and I'm going away for a week on Saturday, so tomorrow is it.  (There have been a LOT of other things too--the whole "I feel like you're taking me for granted" and even after I finally had the courage to say it, he didn't do anything about it.  A whole lot of me doing all the cooking, all the cleaning, all the shopping, paying for most things and planning everything.  When we went away last weekend, I brought a lot of food for us to cook and he didn't bring anything, then made comments that I only brought poor quality whiskey because I was thinking of hot toddies and whiskey sours, not drinking it straight, or disappointment that I hadn't thought to bring trail mix.  And he never offered once to carry my bag with the wine, olive oil, whiskey, and all the less-heavy food things.  I've made other comments about wanting help, wanting him to actually go out on dates and not just stay home and work every single night.  It is funny--Tony was to me what I was to MaxEarnest.  I loved spending half our nights together just working over our respective computers, but when it turned into every night together, I felt really isolated.)

So tomorrow Tony will invite himself over for dinner in the late afternoon.  And I'll say "I think we should talk--let's get coffee."  And then I have to be clear that this isn't working for me.  I won't give reasons unless he asks for them.  I don't know the kindest way to break up with someone.  Despite all evidence of his behaviour, I do think Tony has really appreciated the experience of being with me; in fact, he may have become complacent because my home felt like his home and he thought our lives were fitting together well.  Too well.  I've felt like I have all the complaints housewives did in the early 1960s.  Oh, and I'm covering all the bills too!

A couple of friends have urged me to dump Tony now (or days ago, once I started talking with people about my concerns), not wait till tomorrow.  "You deserve better" they say.  But I don't know how much that is true.  It isn't what I deserve.  It is what I think I can live with.

It is funny because Tony thinks he is a feminist, but we had the worst gender-stereotyped relationship I've ever seen (except in bed, where he still won't pin my wrists down even.  He spanked me once like me meant it, and I thought he was really turned on.  I thought that would be a turning-point for us, but it never happened again.)  It is funny, but in a weird way (or maybe an incredibly obvious way), good kink has to involve a huge amount of empathy.  In a way, with a Male Dominant, Female Submissive relationship, the man has to do far more of taking care of the woman's needs, figuring out how she is feeling, being aware of what she wants, likes and needs.  I remember John used to order all my meals for me, without asking me what I wanted.  My drinks too.  And thing is, he knew a) what I liked and that b) since he paid for everything I would order the cheapest chicken dish on the menu.  He knew me well enough to say things like "she'd like extra mushrooms on that, but the dressing on the side."  He would order exactly what I would have wanted, if cost were no issue.  He ordered me a blueberry and pear martini once--I think it was like $16 dollars.  I would never, in a million years, have asked him to spend $16 on my drink; but I felt so taken care of.  MaxEarnest was SO aware of my mood, so aware of what I wanted kink-wise.  We only had crossed signals once, when he punished me and didn't realize how hard it was for me and I thought he was pissed off and didn't care.  If he had realized, he would never have done it.  Sometimes I wanted MaxEarnest to push me a little farther.  I loved having resistance brushed aside, and yet that is a kind of fucked-up dynamic and MaxEarnest always listened when I said I didn't like something.  But when I fell last week on the ice (we were hiking on a frozen lake), Tony just gave me the keys to the car and I waited for him to enjoy his walk for over an hour when it was 11 degrees outside.  He doesn't cherish me.

I came to the conclusion that Tony wouldn't have been a good dad because he lacks empathy.  If our hypothetical future child  (OHFC---sounds like it should be tried for fixing LIBOR or something) were curious about the world, Tony would have been awesome at feeding at nurturing that curiosity.  But if OHFC were frustrated by school, or being picked on by kids, or not learning something as quickly as Tony thought, Tony would become quickly exasperated.  And if OHFC needed to have a diaper changed at 3 in the morning, it would never occur to Tony to do it.  He might, if for some reason I was sleeping through said cries and he wasn't, wake me up and say "do we have any clean diapers--I think OHFC needs to be changed."  And he might be willing to change OHFC if I said "Could you please change OHFC. Please make sure you wipe down OHFC's bottom before you put the new diaper on.  And could you please put the old diaper in the pail and then put OHFC in the crib and turn off the light" he would probably do 4 of the 5 things.  I can see how it becomes so hard for women not to nag!

So I break up with Tony tomorrow.  And it must be done.  But I'm very sad.