What happened, indeed.
I knew something was wrong. Before I knew anything was wrong with JC, I knew in my mind that things just weren't right. When we got back together everything was great. All that excitment, and the sparks, passion, etc. But every now and then these little doubts would come up. Doubts about whether the guy could go one day without a beer, doubts on if the guy had one ounce of ambition in his soul, doubts about whether he'd ever be able to hold an intelligent conversation with me, doubts about whether he was ever going to grow out of hanging out with alcoholic losers. And I ignored them all because I thought...I love him. And that's enough for both of us to make it work. I continued to believe in compromise, and I continued to believe that I could get intellectual stimulation from outside of my relationship, and I continued to believe that we were both stressed lately and the "spark" would come back. I guess that's why all my blogs lately have just been like, "JC and I are great." Period. Because I didn't have anything to boast about. I knew there was something wrong with us being together. And I ignored it.
Every time we went out on the weekends with his friends, I would sit there and think what the hell am I doing here. I'm too good for this. I'm too good to sit around and listen to his friends talk about how they're sleeping with this girl and that girl, and I'm too good to sit around and listen to people talk about how many shots they can take.
And the romance was gone. It was. I knew that. And I kept waiting around for HIM to do something about it. But the truth is I guess I had just given up. When I was with the guy I was with before JC, going out for a night on the town was always this huge romantic thing. I would get dressed up, lacey underwear and all, and he would pick me up, and everything we did while we were out would just be the prelude for things to come. But with JC...I started out doing that stuff...getting dressed up, etc...and then it was like What's the point? Because all we would do was come home and pass out...unless I tried to be romantic...but what's the point of always trying...and not the other person trying in return. He's young, dumb, and immature. He's said to me before that he's a bad "lover", and I tried to make him feel better and say, "You're not...you just don't care enough about women to pay attention". What is I'm rambling about here??? So, this all culminated into Wednesday night.
Wednesday night JC and I went out. We had a really great time. Then we got back to my apartment...started to have a good conversation, and then I flipped out. I don't know why. Maybe I wanted that romance to be there, and it just wasn't. But I didn't do anything really wrong. I pouted. That was about it. I didn't say anything nasty, I didn't do anything ridiculous. Next thing I know JC called his roommate and he's leaving. I felt horrible. I felt like I had done something so ridiculously wrong. The next day he said he didn't know if we should be together because some things needed to change. And I said ok. I took all the blame for being overemotional. I said I'd be willing to do anything to make it better. And I was. I was so ready to make a change and a real commitment to making "us" work out.
So, he agreed. But he said he needed a couple of days to get over being mad. So, on Thursday night he said he stayed at his apartment alone and got smashed. (Big surprise.) Come to find out he wasn't alone. He had friends there, and he lied. He should know by now you can't hide anything on MySpace.
But then on Friday, we kind of worked things out. He met up with my sister, BIL, and me on. They left and we were alone. He kept saying, "Don't be so uncomfortable, Elizabeth. Everything's going to work out. I want things to work out, and I want to be with you. I love you." I can't tell you how many times he said that between Friday and Saturday. So on Friday night, He climbed into my bed. Put his arms around me. And told me once again that everything was going to be ok. We would get through this together. He loved me so much.
We were supposed to go out for St. Patrick's Day, just the two of us, so we could repair things he said. In the back of my head, even though I've taken on all this blame for getting mad for no reason on Wednesday...I'm still thinking WHY? I didn't really do anything all that bad, but I'll take the blame for now. I'll make this work.
I wait and I wait for him to get off work. Then he calls and he's almost in tears.
JC: We can't go out tonight?
Me: *frantic* Why?
JC: Because I got in a fist fight with a guy at work, I might get fired, and I hurt my arm.
*My reaction was to be little miss let me take care of you*
Me: Let me see you. Let's talk and I'll take care of you. It will be ok. Don't shut me out. We made a committment to making this work out.
JC: I can't because I haven't been honest with you.
Me: *FREAK OUT*
JC: I cheated on you.
Me: With who??? *still freaking out*
JC: Jessica from the Time Machine.
I lost it, and I told him that I was picking him up from work, that he at least owed me the "honor" of him telling me to my face. And I don't know...I was in such an adrenaline mode that I probably thought that it wasn't really happening and if I just went to talk to him everything would be ok. But that's not what happened.
I yelled and I screamed and I cried and I hit him...hard. I said things I've always wanted to say to him. I said things that hurt him beyond belief. And a part of me wanted to stop and say you're just saying these things in anger...so don't do it. But that wasn't true...I said everything I had ever wanted to say. How he didn't deserve me. How he didn't deserve to be in Gabby's presence. How without us he will be alone...left with friends who are drunks and only care if JC is there to have a good time. I said worse things...things that maybe I should feel sorry for, but I don't. He betrayed me in more ways than one. How can a guy talk about running off to Vegas to get married one week...and having a baby...to cheating on me.
I'm so angry. I just want to yell and scream and hit something!!! And I think I'm pushing off the hurt so I don't have to deal with that part. Because it hurts. I know this is better. I know that the "out" I had been looking for, and was too afraid to find is here. I know that he would never have been good enough for me, and I know that he knows/knew that, too. He could never live up to rising above his current station in life, and finding a better one. So, I don't think moving on from this will be as hard as I think it will right now, it's just going to take some time. Every ounce of me just wants to yell and scream at him some more. Like maybe I feel like he doesn't get it or something. But he does. From the the little he said in my car, from the the look on his face...I know that he will never feel like more of a piece of shit than he does right now. He has pretty much lost the only thing he had in his life that truely cared and truely loved him. Do you think any of his other friends were over at his house everyday taking care of him when he got beat up? Going to buy him a new inhaler every time he needed one? No, they absolutely weren't. And even his roommate is in her own relationship now. What will he do once she's gone, too?
So...Jessica is flying here on Thursday. Eating tacos and drinking margaritas for days.
I'm going to take the money I had set aside to help JC fix his truck, and go see Ray Ray at the gym today to sign up for some training sessions. I owe that to myself. In a way this is a new beginning. I start my new job next Monday, I know I can get myself back into the shape I was...and I will make it through this. I'll cry for 30 minutes on the treadmill everyday if I have to. But I've got to stop the thoughts that say I should miss him. or still love him.
I knew something was wrong. Before I knew anything was wrong with JC, I knew in my mind that things just weren't right. When we got back together everything was great. All that excitment, and the sparks, passion, etc. But every now and then these little doubts would come up. Doubts about whether the guy could go one day without a beer, doubts on if the guy had one ounce of ambition in his soul, doubts about whether he'd ever be able to hold an intelligent conversation with me, doubts about whether he was ever going to grow out of hanging out with alcoholic losers. And I ignored them all because I thought...I love him. And that's enough for both of us to make it work. I continued to believe in compromise, and I continued to believe that I could get intellectual stimulation from outside of my relationship, and I continued to believe that we were both stressed lately and the "spark" would come back. I guess that's why all my blogs lately have just been like, "JC and I are great." Period. Because I didn't have anything to boast about. I knew there was something wrong with us being together. And I ignored it.
Every time we went out on the weekends with his friends, I would sit there and think what the hell am I doing here. I'm too good for this. I'm too good to sit around and listen to his friends talk about how they're sleeping with this girl and that girl, and I'm too good to sit around and listen to people talk about how many shots they can take.
And the romance was gone. It was. I knew that. And I kept waiting around for HIM to do something about it. But the truth is I guess I had just given up. When I was with the guy I was with before JC, going out for a night on the town was always this huge romantic thing. I would get dressed up, lacey underwear and all, and he would pick me up, and everything we did while we were out would just be the prelude for things to come. But with JC...I started out doing that stuff...getting dressed up, etc...and then it was like What's the point? Because all we would do was come home and pass out...unless I tried to be romantic...but what's the point of always trying...and not the other person trying in return. He's young, dumb, and immature. He's said to me before that he's a bad "lover", and I tried to make him feel better and say, "You're not...you just don't care enough about women to pay attention". What is I'm rambling about here??? So, this all culminated into Wednesday night.
Wednesday night JC and I went out. We had a really great time. Then we got back to my apartment...started to have a good conversation, and then I flipped out. I don't know why. Maybe I wanted that romance to be there, and it just wasn't. But I didn't do anything really wrong. I pouted. That was about it. I didn't say anything nasty, I didn't do anything ridiculous. Next thing I know JC called his roommate and he's leaving. I felt horrible. I felt like I had done something so ridiculously wrong. The next day he said he didn't know if we should be together because some things needed to change. And I said ok. I took all the blame for being overemotional. I said I'd be willing to do anything to make it better. And I was. I was so ready to make a change and a real commitment to making "us" work out.
So, he agreed. But he said he needed a couple of days to get over being mad. So, on Thursday night he said he stayed at his apartment alone and got smashed. (Big surprise.) Come to find out he wasn't alone. He had friends there, and he lied. He should know by now you can't hide anything on MySpace.
But then on Friday, we kind of worked things out. He met up with my sister, BIL, and me on. They left and we were alone. He kept saying, "Don't be so uncomfortable, Elizabeth. Everything's going to work out. I want things to work out, and I want to be with you. I love you." I can't tell you how many times he said that between Friday and Saturday. So on Friday night, He climbed into my bed. Put his arms around me. And told me once again that everything was going to be ok. We would get through this together. He loved me so much.
We were supposed to go out for St. Patrick's Day, just the two of us, so we could repair things he said. In the back of my head, even though I've taken on all this blame for getting mad for no reason on Wednesday...I'm still thinking WHY? I didn't really do anything all that bad, but I'll take the blame for now. I'll make this work.
I wait and I wait for him to get off work. Then he calls and he's almost in tears.
JC: We can't go out tonight?
Me: *frantic* Why?
JC: Because I got in a fist fight with a guy at work, I might get fired, and I hurt my arm.
*My reaction was to be little miss let me take care of you*
Me: Let me see you. Let's talk and I'll take care of you. It will be ok. Don't shut me out. We made a committment to making this work out.
JC: I can't because I haven't been honest with you.
Me: *FREAK OUT*
JC: I cheated on you.
Me: With who??? *still freaking out*
JC: Jessica from the Time Machine.
I lost it, and I told him that I was picking him up from work, that he at least owed me the "honor" of him telling me to my face. And I don't know...I was in such an adrenaline mode that I probably thought that it wasn't really happening and if I just went to talk to him everything would be ok. But that's not what happened.
I yelled and I screamed and I cried and I hit him...hard. I said things I've always wanted to say to him. I said things that hurt him beyond belief. And a part of me wanted to stop and say you're just saying these things in anger...so don't do it. But that wasn't true...I said everything I had ever wanted to say. How he didn't deserve me. How he didn't deserve to be in Gabby's presence. How without us he will be alone...left with friends who are drunks and only care if JC is there to have a good time. I said worse things...things that maybe I should feel sorry for, but I don't. He betrayed me in more ways than one. How can a guy talk about running off to Vegas to get married one week...and having a baby...to cheating on me.
I'm so angry. I just want to yell and scream and hit something!!! And I think I'm pushing off the hurt so I don't have to deal with that part. Because it hurts. I know this is better. I know that the "out" I had been looking for, and was too afraid to find is here. I know that he would never have been good enough for me, and I know that he knows/knew that, too. He could never live up to rising above his current station in life, and finding a better one. So, I don't think moving on from this will be as hard as I think it will right now, it's just going to take some time. Every ounce of me just wants to yell and scream at him some more. Like maybe I feel like he doesn't get it or something. But he does. From the the little he said in my car, from the the look on his face...I know that he will never feel like more of a piece of shit than he does right now. He has pretty much lost the only thing he had in his life that truely cared and truely loved him. Do you think any of his other friends were over at his house everyday taking care of him when he got beat up? Going to buy him a new inhaler every time he needed one? No, they absolutely weren't. And even his roommate is in her own relationship now. What will he do once she's gone, too?
So...Jessica is flying here on Thursday. Eating tacos and drinking margaritas for days.
I'm going to take the money I had set aside to help JC fix his truck, and go see Ray Ray at the gym today to sign up for some training sessions. I owe that to myself. In a way this is a new beginning. I start my new job next Monday, I know I can get myself back into the shape I was...and I will make it through this. I'll cry for 30 minutes on the treadmill everyday if I have to. But I've got to stop the thoughts that say I should miss him. or still love him.
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