The Ex-Philes...Part Excerpt 3. A Little In The Middle...

This whole long Doug story has been painful, and will continue to be...

Not because of re-hashing old memories, or for any other sentimental reasons. It will be painful and difficult because I am not sure where it ends. The other stories that you have read, all had a tightly-sealed ending to them, whether I ended up being friends, or not friends with that particular guy, it was definitively over.

Whereas, this story...is on-going.

The real problem lies in whether I want this story to end...and I am not sure if I will make up my mind in the small space of time it takes to write this post. It has almost been 2 years, I highly doubt that there will be an answer to this conundrum within the space of an hour, or even the next and final post, written here at my lonely desk.

So, bear with me here if I tend to rant, or soapbox, or repeat a lot of the things I have mentioned in earlier posts...it all must be said, or the point of this whole experiment...(The Ex-Philes) will have been for naught.

So...

Wait...I am going to go have a cigarette first and then begin...I need head-clearing nicotine.

Be right back...

OK, I am back.

The cigarette did nothing to help, besides take away my nervousness, really...but here goes nothing.

After Doug and I officially broke up we went into a coma stage, if you will.

You know...not quite alive, not quite dead.

We were still spending time together, but in a different way. Some of you might call it a "booty-call" other call it "casually dating" and there is the eternally hopeful in my jaded self that called it "boyfriend for the weekend."

I asked him the evening we broke up if he would still do me the favor of being my date to my cousin's looming wedding out of town in September. He said he was happy to go...and that we would hang out, get loaded on keg beer, and dance the night away. He promised normalcy to cushion my fall on this day. My family has what I like to call "insane expectations" of each female in our family, and I knew going to that celebration alone would only lead to the general speculation, and rumor mill-grinding of me being a lesbian. They assume that because I am single at my age...I MUST be gay, right?

Yeah...sure.

As the days wore on in our self-induced relationship coma, I felt sad, but strangely at ease with the idea of it all.

Why?

Because I still was holding on to a silly hope that he would come out of his funk and see what was there in front of him.

Yes...it was silly hope...and I know now, after almost a year; post-breakup- that the funk is strong in my young Jedi.

Two weeks before the wedding, Doug was having a football draft party for his fantasy league. The year before, I was told vehemently that girlfriends/wives were NOT allowed to attend, and this was boys night out. I grumped about it a little bit, but understood the male ritual and let it slide. This year was different, though...I was no longer his girlfriend, and I certainly wasn't going to be his wife anytime soon, so I expected to be able to come as...his friend.

He said yes, at first...but then began to back-pedal as the date came closer.

I finally asked him why he wasn't wanting me to be there, and he sheepishly answered:

"Um...yeah...about that...well, there is going to be a "person of interest" there, and it would be awkward..."

I wasn't upset because I figured it was just some random chick that he had met online, or a friend of a friend, possibly.
It stung a bit, I won't lie...and made me come close to abandon all hope at that point, but like I said in the last post...I am no quitter and I just shrugged it off and hoped that she was super fat, ugly, or a complete stalker. :o)

The evening before the event I offered to come over to his place, spend the night, perhaps...and clean it for him for the impending guests soon to come. He agreed to do that, offering me some cash that I desperately needed to put into my tank, and pay a bill if needed.

I was OK with that, since I was earning my keep, so to speak.

I came over and we cleaned our little hearts out together. We laughed, and listened to the music, and got the place spotless. It was the funnest time I have ever had cleaning in my life...LOL.

When we were done, I stuck a pizza in the oven, and changed my dirty clothes into PJ's.

I thought it was weird at the time that he hadn't kissed me all night, or grabbed my ass, or groped me in any way. (He usually has octopi arms when I am around.)

But, I figured that he was pre-occupied, and he would come around when he had some food in his belly and a few shots of Evan Williams to relax him.

We sat down to eat and for some reason, unbeknownst to even myself I began to question him about this "person of interest" It was almost like I was on auto-pilot and I couldn't stop myself.

I asked who where and what, and the answer I got was what made me drop my pizza slice back to my plate rather quickly.

He finally admitted that he had been seeing this girl for longer than I had assumed...almost 2 weeks. And that it was someone we both knew...

I had met her in the time that he and I were a couple at random family functions at his mom's house.

She was his mom's best friends daughter.

And to beat it all...I had liked her when I met her.

But, this was not at all what I had expected...

I had not prepared myself for this.

My whole body began to shake as I asked my next question: "So...you are just dating her, right...I mean, it isn't anything serious, really?"

His hesitation answered my question.

I began to cry.

I then was mad.

I was mad at him for the first time-ever. I mean...I had just cleaned his entire fucking house for him to have a party that his new "girl" was allowed to come to after two fucking weeks, and the same party that I was banned from the year before for being his "girl"-then.

I was furious, and filled with incredulity.

He had told me when we broke up that he was just not ready for anything serious, despite what he had originally thought when we met, and that I was the best girlfriend he has ever had, and that he just had some chemistry with her and wanted to see what might develop.

When we broke up back in June, he gave me the Seinfeld.

You know...the Seinfeld: "It's Not You, It's Me." thing.

So when this news was broken to me...it was highly devastating, because apparently...it was me, after all.

I was so angry I could have punched him, because in the first time since the day we had met, he had finally let me down.

I felt as if I had been betrayed and lied to and deceived.

By Doug.

The man that I had built up- and put on this pedestal- and worshipped... even after our breakup.

He seemed to be just like all of the rest of them, and my illusion was shattered.

He was the same lying, deceiving, fuckwit as the rest of them, and I literally could not believe it.

The depression was looming now. I could feel it sink into me like a fine Bath and Body Works brand of lotion...only depression doesn't smell nearly as nice.

And neither did I.

I freaked, as I had with David.

I was unemployed at the time, so I had no work worries...and I just closed myself up again and robotically drifted through my days.

I barely even spoke to Bubba.

I just survived.

I asked him when he had informed me of this if he was still planning on going to the wedding he had promised he would go to with me.

He said...yes, of course he would.

Don't ask me why I wanted him to come...I am not sure.

Perhaps to torture him by having to explain it to the new girlfriend, or maybe to look exceedingly gorgeous and make him regret his decision, or just because I didn't want to have to face my "put-the-fun-in-dysfunctional" family alone.

And so we went...and the girlfriend wasn't necessarily happy about it... (darn the luck...)

And I did have one very tall set of ankle strap stiletto heels and stockings with my sexy dress.

So...I used the evening to my advantage.

He he...

I even went so far as to ask him to buckle my sexy heel at the ankle for me, because I "just couldn't reach it myself..." (Again-Darn the luck.)

I could see the sweat literally drip down his forehead as he leaned down to help me buckle. He was restraining himself from caressing my leg...I could feel it.

The wedding was nice. But when we went outside to smoke, you could feel the awkward tension in the air between us. It was a heady mix of sexual, sad/regretful, and nervous. Even my family could feel it. And they knew something was weird when the obligatory bouquet toss was announced and I, quite stubbornly, sat as still as a stone...unflinching, at my frou frou decorated round table. When chided to jump up eagerly like all of the other "single ladies" in the room, I kinda snapped- and angrily stated: "Um...what's the point???...I'm pretty sure that I have no intention of getting up there and catching that thing considering that there are NO happy endings, and marriage is never gonna happen for me. It's almost like a big kid teasing the little kid with a cookie...just holding it at arms length and teasingly exclaiming: HA HA YOU CAN'T HAVE IT! HA HA!"

Yeah...I made a fool of myself there, because after my rant I noticed that everyone at the table was just staring at me-mouth agape, eyes wide.

-And I had my arms crossed in front of me, red-faced and on the verge of tears.

Doug was the only one not looking at me...he was looking at the tablecloth awkwardly fidgeting with his tie. The look on his face was pure regret and sadness.

I wanted to feel sorry for him, as my empathetic nature usually calls for...but not this time. I was still pretty angry, and bitter...and I wasn't ready to reason anything with myself in that aspect just yet.

It was really hard, for me especially because I never let go of us, really.

And being at a wedding, where the unmarried women practically salivate with jealousy, myself included...was particularly hard, as you can imagine. It was almost torture at some points in the day.

I was crying and playing it off on the whole: "she looks so beautiful in her dress" thing.

I knew why I was really crying, and I don't think Doug was unintelligent enough to be fooled either.

After the wedding, he dropped me off at my place and we sat in his car and talked. When we said goodbye...I was really overwhelmed with the feeling that this was it...this was the actual end of it all, and when he hugged me...I wouldn't (couldn't) let him go. We literally sat there for 10 minutes just embracing as the tears rolled down, making his shoulder a soggy mess.

I finally broke free and ran into the house figuring that I had just-once and for all- lost the love of my life. I had really screwed this up and it couldn't be fixed now. I was really flinched...

I cried myself to sleep figuring that I would never see him again...let alone hold him.

It was very dramatic, even by my standards.

That was early September.

By October I was still in a funk...still moping around...still pining...still batshit crazy.

But I had begun therapy and crazy pills and things were getting a little easier...day for day.

On the outside, anyway.

To keep up appearances, I was playing the sad clown for everyone in my life.

I would be perfectly normal to them...but when alone...sobbing my eyes out and literally feeling suicidal. It was a scary time...even for me, looking back down.

I was walking a very fragile razors-edge in that period of my life, and nobody knew it but me.

I tried to begin dating again...knowing damn well that I wasn't ready.

But, I was feeling so isolated and lonely...I guess just anyone paying attention to me would suffice at that time.

I met a guy named Jay...

Jay was sweet, sensitive, talkative, funny, and wise...I mean it...he truly was wise.

I completely credit him for helping me through that time. He was better than therapy in every aspect. And on top of it...he really liked me, and valued me for the person that I am...which did wonders for my self esteem.

Unfortunately...I knew quite early that he and I weren't compatible.

I tried so hard to make myself feel it, because I know that he would have been a great boyfriend/even husband at some point.

After almost a month, I tried to sleep with him...and it just didn't work out for either of us.

He didn't finish, and I laid there and cried for an hour afterward.

I even admitted to him that I was thinking of Doug when this happened...

I know-that's easily one of the shittiest things I have ever done, and I felt horrible about it.

But I wanted to be honest with him, and he needed to know the depth of my...erm... imbalances... before anything went further.

I figured that he would stomp out of the place calling me a bitch and never speak to me again. But he didn't...he laid there and talked to me while I cried, and understood and thanked me for being so up-front with him.

Yeah...Jay is a wonderful man.

I truly know this...but while I still have my head buried up Doug's ass...it's kinda hard to see anyone else-even someone that special.

A week after this fopas took place, I got an email from Doug at work.

The redhead had dumped him-via email.

Classy broad, eh?

But ironically this is the excuse she gave him:

"It's not you...it's me."

Karma...gotta love that shit.

Yes, I was laughing about it, but for multiple reasons. Karma...yeah...that was pretty comical, but also happiness.

He told me first...before anyone else in his life. He emailed me...and told me first.

He trusted me with some information-finally.

Listen...I'm not nearly as naive as you are thinking right now. I am no dummy.

I know that he was seeking sex with me again, and I also know that he was looking for a little slice of revenge towards the redhead too by bringing me back in.

I was OK with that, though.

I needed some sex at that point as well, and I missed him.

Yes...it's dysfunctional...and yes...it is unhealthy.

But...I was eager and willing to jump right back into his arms.

To build back up the self esteem that I worked 2 years to build after his divorce (that she tore down in one month)-

To re-wire him sexually-

To make him feel safe again-

Cause that's the kinda girl I am.

And self serving...I wanted to have an orgasm again.

I would be a complete liar if I said that it was all for him.

So we made a "date"

And it was as if we had never broken up...we were completely at ease and comfortable. Perhaps, we were even more comfortable as we had been before. All of the expectations had fallen to the wayside and we were just feeling each other. We were both lonely and needy and horny.

(he had mentioned that the sex with her...all 2 times that they did it was, for lack of a better term...dull)

I was flattered that he mentioned several times that he missed me BIGtime in that way...and that nothing else was comparative in that avenue.

My lack of confidence does not extend its reach to my sexual prowess...it is the one and only place that I am supremely secure and confident, and some may even call it cocky. I don't care...I know my stuff is made of gold. However, it hasn't served me as well as I had assumed while building my repertoire...some men are intimidated, while others feel emasculated by it. And most of the time...(and as it should be) the sex just isn't enough to sustain anything healthy. It took me years to figure this out, honestly.

But hell...if anything- it serves as a very worthwhile distraction, what can I say?

This re-joining of Doug and I had a slight glitch in the plan, though...

Jay.

I was torn between a man who would probably give me the life I have craved for years, with the family, the security, the emotional support, the "so-called" fairytale.

And the man that I loved...who would promise NONE of these things.

Well, as I am sure you have figured out already, by reading me...you know that I am all heart. I lead with it, it sits on my sleeve, and it ends with my decisions. Beginning, middle and end...my heart leads me.

As much as the lifestyle calls me...love rules me.

So I made a decision...and I let Jay go.

It was difficult.

But, it also wasn't fair to him, either.

I had a strong suspicion that I was leading him on, without meaning to.

I couldn't do to someone what many men of my past had done to me...I am far too kind, and aware of consequences in that realm of life.

Doug knew of Jay...

And showed some jealousy in regard to him.

Something he had never done before, honestly.

And to also be honest...I considered keeping him around for awhile to build that desperate feeling up inside Doug.

But, like I said...karma is a bitch, and I am not a head-game player by any stretch of the imagination. What you see is what you get with me...in all aspects.

I couldn't do that to him.

And then...the decision was made.

So now...where are we?

What is the deal now-regarding Doug and I?

That-for the next and final excerpt.

This post would be way way too long to append from here, and I wanna give you something to wanna come back and read, don't I?

;o)

I'm a shit...I know.

Last Thought-

"Later that night I got to thinking about the x-factor. In mathematics, we learn that x stands for the unknown, a+b=x...

But what's really unknown is what plus what equals friendship with an x.

Is this an unsolvable equation?

Or is it possible to transform a once passionate love into something that fits nice and easily onto the friendship shelf?

I couldn’t help but wonder... can you be friends with an x?"

-Carrie Bradshaw (SATC)

Factoring-

Jaded