I hate crying in public.
I hate crying in private.
Crying never makes me feel better, it just makes my eyes puffy, my nose run and I feel pathetic and limp afterwards.
Have you ever thought you knew someone? That you knew who they were inside? What they wanted out of life and where the line in the sand was for them?
I really thought that about Jason.
Sure, it was a bit of a shock a couple of years ago when I found out he was a closet conspiracist but I've got my surprises too. I can't think of anything too shocking right now but I'm sure I've got them!
I said that I haven't recognized myself as the person in the mirror for a while now but it's only been in the last month that I've realized that I have no idea who Jason is.
Sure, I know his favorite movie and foods. I know his childhood stories. I even know his fears.
But I have no idea WHO he is...the important bits.
The bits that tell you when someone is lying. Or more importantly, that tells you that they wouldn't lie to you. The bits that tell you that there is a line they won't cross morally or ethically. The bits that when someone tells you a story about that person you KNOW they couldn't have done that...or that they DID that.
In my mind I see his face...the smile...the blue eyes. In my mind I can remember what it felt like sit on the couch and just "fit". To lie in bed together and just FIT.
It's hard to realize it is/was made up in my head. It's REALLY hard to know that no matter how many times he tells me he loves me and that he doesn't want a divorce he still choses to be with someone else.
When I was 14 my family got a puppy. We named him Scottie. (By "we" I mean my dad. He didn't know we were getting a puppy until it was too late, so he got to name him).
When I was 30 he got hit by a car. It was late. I had just gotten back from a visit at my parents house. Jason was on another business trip so it was just Scottie and me. I let him out of the car off leash while I went around the corner to check the mail. Some college kids clipped him in the parking lot.
|I used to sing "You are my Sunshine" to him. |
I can't sing it anymore and it's still hard to hear anyone else sing it.
He didn't die right away. He didn't even cry, even though I know he was scared and in a lot of pain. He let me put him in the car and drive as fast as I could to the only vet office I could find that was open at 1am in the morning.
I kept talking to him while I drove and I would reach back behind me to put my hand on him so he would know I was there with him.
Half way there I felt it. Or I guess what I felt was the absence of him. I knew that he was dead. When I got to the vets office I told them I didn't need the vet anymore. That he had died. They offered to carry him in for me (he was a 50lbs dog) but I remember telling them that I had carried him inside when he was 8 weeks old and I would carry him then too. My best friend for over half my life was gone.
That moment when I realized he was dead? I feel like that happened for me with Jason and I tonight.
Jason might tell me he loves me and that he wants a future with me but he doesn't. If he did, he wouldn't want anything to do with any of the other women he's cheated with. But he doesn't and he does. I feel the absence of him. Not that I miss him, but of "him".
The man I thought I knew is gone.
I might be slow, and I might believe in too many chances but eventually I get the message.