Diatreta

Matt sent me a message yesterday.

For those who don't know, I haven't spoken to Matt since August, after I found out I was pregnant. The baby is Gabe's. I don't need complications, I don't need to date, and if I was going to have a good friendship with Gabe for the baby, I needed to make the friendship safe for him. No painful reminders of shit in the past. So I told Matt I didn't want to date him and ignored his text messages until the beginning of September, when I heard he was spreading rumors about me. The text messages before September were talking about how we could still be friends and when I ignored those, he would start calling me stupid for throwing him away, he would have been with me even though I was pregnant, basic shitty things.

In the beginning of September, he had finally gotten the hint and stopped texting me. Mind you, nothing about paternity had been discussed prior to me ignoring him. He knew he couldn't have been the father. But then the messages start coming about how he could be the father etc etc. I told him all of my ultrasounds, bloodwork, and doctors were putting me a week behind when I should have ovulated, which meant I ovulated late. Probably from the stress of trying to hold the relationship I wanted together, while trying to get rid of the one I didn't want without any consequences. I'm a real shithead, real damaged person sometimes. I think it takes a lot for someone to admit that, so I'm proud of myself for it.

So he admits that there's probably a snowballs chance in hell that he's the father and where he said he wanted a pre-natal paternity test done, he doesn't see the need anymore. I told him fine, to please leave me alone, I'm trying to put my life back together.

A ignore him for another week, so he starts sending Gabe messages. At this point, I haven't been honest with Gabe whatsoever. I've told him small details, like I thought I was in love with Matt, I'm trying to get over him etc. I didn't tell him I slept with Matt. I didn't tell him anything. I didn't think he would find out, I didn't want him to get hurt. That is all my fault.

If I had just been honest from the absolute get-go, everything would probably be alright, at least with me. If I had told Gabe that Matt is being extremely aggressive, keeps saying I owe him for the margarita he bought while we were out with friends, if I had told him that I can't say no to anyone, especially not with that much aggressiveness, Gabe could have punched him in the face, told him to fuck off, and that would have been that.

Anyway. He sent the message to Gabe and everything was found out. I should never have lied, I take one hundred percent blame for everything involving the affair, and fifty percent involving Gabe and I's relationship.

I told Gabe the truth about everything. I didn't want to, but I forced myself to. No one wants to feel that shame about themselves and no one wants to see the look on the person they love's face. I told myself Matt had told Gabe everything in order to keep telling Gabe the truth. Gabe deserved to know. He deserved to finally be able to make an informed decision about everything. He deserved to decide whether he wanted to go to counseling and forgive me or if he wanted to cut his losses and see what else is out there.

And truthfully, in a way it was a huge relief. In a bigger way it was terrible. I knew I had just lost him probably for at least a long while, possibly forever. But it was a relief not having to carry that around anymore. Not having to shy away and hide in myself so he wouldn't find out.

And after that I set out trying to show him from the bottom of my heart how truly sorry and remorseful I am.

So now yesterday, Matt sends me a message on Myspace. I have his primary profile blocked, but he created a new one just to message me. Wonderful. This is after having to change my number, so he won't call me, after going to HR so he won't ambush me after I leave the bathroom.

But in it he writes how I wasn't a piece of ass, how I was the love of his life, and how he thinks I stopped talking to him because of the things he told people and begging for forgiveness and whatever.

So after giving the backstory, I'd like to address each of those.

Firstly, I didn't stop talking to you because of the shit you did. I stopped talking to you because of the things I did. I cheated on someone with you. I was not the person I aim to be in life knowing you. I don't want to be a liar, I don't want to be a cheat, I don't want to sneak around. I want to be accountable for my actions. That begins with becoming honest and healthy, and it is not healthy for me to do the things I did with you.

Of course I didn't want you to tell anyone the things we did, because I didn't want to feel the shame from it. Just like anyone else wouldn't.

Secondly, I'm not the love of your life. You don't worm your way into someone's life, make them trust you, use the information you garner about their lovelife by acting like a good friend, and then using it against them to break up their relationship. You do not hurt the love of your life that way. You do not ask the love of your life to become a dishonest person with no character in order to get your way. You do not then sit and tell the hurt party, the only victim in this, Gabe, that you're sorry, dude.

Thirdly, you don't need to apologize. I did this as well. As I forgive myself, so must I forgive you. I'll never talk to you again, we'll never be friends, I'll ignore you. I don't love you. I didn't love you. I started an affair with you, because I let myself be vulnerable, and because there is something broken inside of me that I am fixing.


I am learning my lessons from this whole thing. And I am taking the blame. Gabe didn't do anything to make me do it. I made the decision. And then I kept making the decision in order t feel wanted, to stave off the shame, to make sure Matt wouldn't tell Gabe, and because I can't say no to anyone, especially not males. I can't say no and when I feel guilted into doing something, I do it. Sex doesn't mean much to me, I've learned. I can compartmentalize it the way I can with everything else.

Sex with Gabe meant things. Sex with other people has not. Sex is not special to me, no matter how hard I've tried to make it. I'm learning though.

I'm learning what to do in a relationship and what not to do.

I've learned that talking about the problems you as a couple are facing is not smart to do when it's someone of the opposite sex and when your partner has no idea how you're feeling. If I had known what I had known now, I would have come home after getting drinks with my friends and Matt, told Gabe everything and everything, and would have hopefully worked through things.

If I had known what I know now, I would have demanded we communicated so much better than we had. I would have told him to stop sweeping shit under the rug, I'm your fucking best friend before I'm your girlfriend, fucking tell me the things you're hiding so we can work through them. So we can get both of us help. So we don't go down with the ship. Please.

If I had known what I know now, I'd have stayed in therapy. I would have learned the dynamics of being assaulted sooner. I would have learned how others could be caught in the crossfire. I would have learned how to avoid predators. I would have learned to say what I'm feeling and when I had the nerve to say it, I would have had the strength to say, Guess what, I feel this, we can do something about it and we can work through it because if not, things will get so much more worse.

But I do know these things now. I may not be great at putting them into play, but each day I get better. And the next time I'm a girlfriend, fiance, or wife, I will put them into play. I will not take any of that, you're being an overbearing bitch bullshit. I wll say, No I'm not. This is me, I'm a human, I've been through things you couldn't imagine and some days I have to live by putting one foot in front of the other.

And some days I need you to catch me real fast, put me back up, and let me take the next step again. I need you to do this and that and if you really love me, no holds barred absolute love, then you'll do it but if you can't, then please let me go. Break up with me and make it a clean break. I'm the girl who comes around once in a lifetime, so please at least try.

So there's the whole sordid affair. I did some really shitty things. Things I can't take back. Things I'll try to make better for a really long time. Things I'll go through hell and back to fix, even if they can't be.

But for me and for my son and his father, I keep working at it. I owe it to me, because I deserve to have a healthy relationship with the people I love, but most importantly I deserve to have a healthy relationship with myself. For my son, because I don't want him growing up and thinking that it's okay to treat women the way I allow myself to be treated. And because he'll eventually learn why Gabe and I may not work out and I'll tell him every bit of the truth in hopes he'll learn from my mistakes. And so he'll know that I was a completely different person when this happened. And for his father, because I love him and always will and because I owe it to him and his son to make an attempt at at least being good friends, because I want him and Gideon to have a good relationship.

So there it is. The whole story. I haven't written about it and have mostly been trying to hide it out of shame and fear. But I did it, I'm here, I've asked for forgiveness and am working real hard to stay and continue walking the long hard road to get there.

You can call me a slut or a whore and you can judge all you want. But it's not going to hurt me anymore.

:'(

I hate Romano.

Srsly.

There's no need to make a pregnant woman cry and then keep laughing about it.

He kept calling me meatball and at first it was funny, but then a half hour later I'm frustrated. And then everyone else in the pit starts saying it and I swear it's like I'm the ugly kid in high school. So then I start crying because I start thinking of how unattractive I'm getting because I'm pregnant and the fact that I am pregnant. ='( and now I can't stop crying and Romano just kept laughing.

I wanna runaway. There's no reason for my supervisor to make me start crying and then laugh about it. And then when I calm down, he comes up and asks if I'm still crying and then I start all over again because it's hard to get myself to stop.

I hate him. And I hate all the stupid cool people at work who sit and gossip and everything/ And then come up to me and ask, Gabe still doesn't want to be with you? I overheard him talking. Yeah, thanks. I got the memo. I read it every day. Please go away.

So I'm fat and pregnant and single and I feel like shit.

I fucking hate you, you stupid hormones. I never want to be pregnant again. If they could sterilize me after this crap, I'd be happy. I'll be celibate and sterile and no one can hurt me and I don't have to go through these shitty emotions because they really suck and they're really powerful.

exhale. i really want some root beer and i want to curl up and sleep for two days and hopefully romano forgets this because if he says anything about it, i'm liable to haul off and i don't know.

i need to take a nap. ='(

I don't really feel like posting, but maybe it will help.

Monday was exciting. I went to work at four and visited with most of my old friends. Most admit that work is slightly more boring now that I am on a different shift. Not as sunny. Gary said I should sing at coffeeshops so everyone can come see me like I am some Fiona Apple or Tori Amos. My heart is ripped open, but I don't think I can share it with a room of people.

I stared at a wall for five hours. No complaints really. Angela, Malcolm, and I all talked about the stuff going on at the boats. Gawaine came up and everyone's mutual disgust rippled for a while. The way people think of abuse is different if you haven't experienced it. There is usually no accompanying fear, helplessness, etc. It's weird knowing someone you worked with molested a child. Everyone knew there was always something off about him or not quite right, but I remember that time in Ricky's where he bought everyone shots and invited us to his barbecue. He seemed normal. If we had gone, would we have seen her. I hate seeing children's faces when they are haunted by something. And bumping auras is always painful, because I will carry the weight of their world on my shoulders for a while. But then I carry everyone's weight for a while.

Mr. Sea came in at nine and sat down and signed his hundred grand in traveler's cheques. The bank was closed for Columbus Day, but of course never the casino. The beast that keeps on feeding off desperation 24/7. It reminds me of a drill digging deep into the earth. Or teeth.

And then when he was finished he kissed my hands and held them and told So to tell me how soft I am. I am so soft but every day I feel like I'm getting harder. We joked and laughed and of course it was a tense night, because I would rain grey chips on him and then take them back. I'm not really a tease, I said. Everytime he hugged someone else I asked him if he was cheating on me and he loved it. I don't know how much I ended up dropping, but it was mostly black and green.

I left at about 3:20. I couldn't stay awake any longer and couldn't remember payouts. Or I did remember them, but instead of paying out a fifteen grand payout, I'd mix a fifteen grand and a whatever grand and so and so. So begged me to stay because he had to leave in a few hours time, but I couldn't. I could hardly place one foot in front of the other at that point.

So Tanya got me out, gave me a point off, and I hugged Mr. Sea good-bye and asked him to come see me soon. After fingering my collarbones, he said he would leave me jewelry before hhe goes back to Korea. His friend says it's because he wants to marry me. He was shocked I wasn't coveted, already someone else's treasure. I said american boys are different.

I left high limit and Dean signed me out and told me to get some sleep after joking about making me stay longer. lol.

It's nice to know my body gets so exhausted because it is creating, not destroying.

I should be turning this into art or sleeping, but the angel of distraction knowns as the internet has me here. Writing in my LJ. My eighth LJ. I think I've deleted all of them but one. lol

LJ. <3

I threw up cheez waffles this morning, which was unpleasant. Apparently, even though I am fourteen weeks along, I am going to continue throwing up. Where is the justice in that? Next time I am doing this with a husband and not a best friend, because there will be a foundation there. Someone who will wipe the tears that forced themselves from my eyes while my food was being forced from my stomach. Someone who will appreciate me. And someone I can sleep next to every night. And the only yanking that will be happening is me from the other side of the bed, slammed into his chest because I am too far away.

But I am excited for my child. The way he'll smile his baby sharktooth smile, the way he'll hug my neck and tell me he loves me, the way he'll say I'm the prettiest mom a boy could ask for, the way he'll ride his batman bike through the backyard with the puppy chasing after him, the way he'll learn about the world for the first time and the innocent but terrible questions he will ask. The heartbreak I'll feel when I leave him with the babysitter or his grandparents or father, the way my apartment will be empty of his laughs, mischief, running, messes, but will be full of our pictures and memories.

I love you already, you know that. Six more months until I get to meet you.

It's so weird having my heart in your tiny body and my heart in your dad's body. I walk around feeling a little empty, but I know my own heart will grow back again. It'll just take time.

Time and maybe some caramel apples. It's almost time for someone unexpected to come into my life and pick me back up, because that's what happens when you feel this way. Or at least when I feel this way.

I understand.

I do.

But that doesn't mean that I don't wish on everything that it was different.

That I was running to you again, that I was kissing you against lockers not knowing if it would be the last, that you were playing with my belly.

I wish you the best.

But I think I will linger a little longer in what could have been because it's more comforting than what isn't.

I like the way that even now the present feels like a distant memory.

Like it is twenty years from now and the drama and the pain has played out and all there is left is the image of the golf course flooded and the leaves turning colors in patches.

I've never been great at pre-cog. Most of the things I end up dreaming or seeing are basic by products of a thought or feeling picked up. My imagination does end up working the puzzle pieces into an accurate picture.

But judging by the way that everything feels like love and peace in the future... I'm guessing things are going to be amazing.

Or I'm going to die in childbirth.

bwahahah.

=)

Going camping!!!!!!! WOOT!!!!!!!! And then quarantine comes out October 10th and we all know how much I love infectious diseases/zombie movies!!!!

You're fucking batshit crazy if you think I'm having an abortion.

And you're fucking crazy if you think this baby wasn't meant to be.

Or won't have a good life.

When I sat in that fucking ER listening to the doctor sit down and tell me that this pregnancy wasn't viable. When I looked him in his eyes and he quite frankly told me that it's not developed the way it should be. When he said it will probably miscarry in the next few days.

And then eleven weeks later it's alive, thriving, LOVING, happy. Content and comfortable, safe in his little environment and warm.

You can't tell me that that's not meant to be. It's not living. Well, that's bullshit. I feel it like a pulse. It is every bit as alive as you or I. And then to BEG me to feel what it feels like to have it's life ripped away. To feel it ripped from me.

You're fucking crazy. This kid is going to be a powerhouse. Gorgeous, brilliant (kids get their intelligence from their mothers. genetics), intuitive, gentle, brave. The only thing this child will need is love. He will not value his life on what he has or doesn't. He will have the confidence to be happy and content in all situations and I will make sure of that.

So no. I will not be getting an abortion. And no. I will not be putting him or her up for adoption.

Everything we do is a choice. Oatmeal or cereal, highway or side streets, kiss her or keep her, we make choices and we live with the consequences. If someone gets hurt along the way we ask for forgiveness, it's the best anyone can do.

thank you.

now goodbye.

I think I'm excited.

Babies kinda transcend relationships now that I'm really thinking about it.

And in a while I'll get to snuggle, kiss, love on, feed, bathe, clothe, and all around get driven crazy by one. Provided everything goes well and he/she stays healthy.

I have a big family. I'll have help. I can move in by myself and make us a little home and lay on the couch and just watch my belly grow. ^_^

And eventually someone will come along and say, Wow. You're wonderful. I can only imagine what your child is like. Let's see what we can do.

And everything will be okay the way I can't see that it will be right now. <33

^_^

Oh, life.

You are hilarious.

I want to cry some more but I guess I'll laugh.

I should eat some food considering I'm pregnant. Isn't that what pregnant ladies do? Eat?

I'm also feeling very hormonal. But I bought Cinderella cookies, hopefully they'll make me feel better. I guess I really will get fat now. Aaron said I'll be a milf though and he's probably right. Maybe I'll have a nice family life after all.

Oh, also now every gas pain makes me scared shitless that I'm just losing the baby.

This whole motherhood thing... Gonna be crazy.

I should sleep and stuff.