Today I have harnessed anger. I double checked my text messages to see what I was doing the day of November 20th, the day she posted a photo of you with a banana in your pocket while standing in her kitchen. The caption reads “Is that a banana in your pocket?” The obvious sexual nature of the comment is only further enhanced by the fact that on that very same day you made love to me in your bed, I took self-portraits of myself in front of your house representing my longing for a family, for children. I took portraits of myself sitting nude at your mother’s piano, of myself at your kitchen table, holding your pen hovering above your religious charts and studies. I bet when I go to look at that photo of you that you will be wearing the same shirt I saw you leave in, as you rushed off to go “help your family move.”
All day I have been tempted to share this with her, to rat you out, to give her the same anger I have needed to walk away…the anger she unknowingly gave me. Part of me wants to return the favor and part of me just wants to wound you.
I’m glad she was brave enough to out herself as your lover, a strength I never possessed. I was too filled with fear of rejection to stake any sort of claim. I’m trying to wait a few more days before I make my final decision on whether to contact her, knowing that my doing so will probably burn a bridge with you forever. I know it’s not something I should do in the heat of passion, until I know I am prepared to face the consequences.
I hope I can stay this angry for awhile. It is the most empowered I have felt in ages. I fear the day you try to contact me, that I will fold to your will, but part of me hopes I will have the strength to declare, “I will not sacrifice myself for you any longer.”
***
First off, I have a few things to admit. In the blind rage of those first few days, I had misremembered a few things, namely the date I had seen on the above mentioned Facebook post. The banana photo had not, in fact, been posted on the same day I had been at M’s house. I was off by a few days. However, the two events DID happen within the same week, right before Thanksgiving. That being said, the depth of my blindness truly astounded me. I literally could not believe the evidence that was right before my eyes. He had even admitted to having a sexual relationship with this girl and I still could not properly wrap my mind around it. I had spoken to him on the phone on Thanksgiving day and we chatted about his family. I was at my father’s house on the other coast of Florida, sad that I could not spend the holiday with M. I so desperately wanted to meet his family. I imagined they would all be tall, blonde, blue-eyed and gorgeous, just like him. That same evening, he went over to A’s house to play Balderdash with her friends and celebrate the holiday. This was something that took weeks to sink in. He treated A like a real girlfriend. He introduced her to his family, he took her to public events with him, he spent holidays with her, he called her his girlfriend, he told her that he loved her and that he wanted her to be the one. These were the things that hurt the most. He was doing and saying all the things I wanted to do and hear, but with her instead of me. My hurt and rage was unprecedented.
I immediately wanted to tell A everything, but I was afraid that she was already in the know and I was the idiot that didn’t know M had been fooling around with multiple people. When I confronted him about A, M told me there were many other women and there would always be many others (later, he claimed he only said this so I would not specifically target A and tell her what was up, but I have a feeling there was some truth to his original claim). I thought maybe she knew she was just a casual girl on the side and was fine with her role, and that by contacting her, I’d look like a crazy idiot. On the other hand, even if she did believe me, SHE might go crazy and take things out on me. She and I had a few mutual friends on Facebook, so I contacted one and asked him if she seemed like a down to Earth girl that could handle me approaching her with my side of the story. He gave me the green light and said she was a cool chick. Still, I waffled back and forth on which path to take. The urge to destroy M was second only to my desire to be with him, no matter the cost.
In the end, my lust for honesty and my pursuit of the truth won out over my sick addiction to M. I decided to contact A, setting in motion the course of events that would finally open my eyes to the truth and begin the very long process of healing.
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