The power is now switched over to my name. His name is off the lease. Two weeks ago, I thought we would be together forever. Now I don’t even know if I’ll ever see him again.
I did a shitty thing. I will concede that. I will feel the guilt for a long, long time. I cheated on him.
I didn’t have sex. I gave my heart away. And I may have kissed someone else too.
Do I feel shame? Regret? Am I sorry that I did that?
Yes to all of the above.
He asked me why.. Why I did it.
I couldn’t answer him. It just wasn’t as simple as that. I needed time, to sort out my thoughts, and give him the answer he deserves.
For months, he’d been depressed. I didn’t write about it, because it was so difficult. Plus, it was his business. Though he was a part my life, it wasn’t my life to post on the internet. He was so depressed he wouldn’t go out with me. Wouldn’t go on a date with me, wouldn’t come with me to friend’s houses, didn’t even want to go and see (or even talk to) his family. If I was having a hard day, I couldn’t call him, because he wouldn’t answer.
It was hard. I would call him for hours, and have to hang up thirty seconds later because it went to voicemail. Again. And I would cry because I needed him so badly.
It was then that I began a friendship with another guy. Moose. When B wouldn’t answer, he would be the guy I would vent to. The guy who would comfort me, say everything I needed to hear, kept me calm. When I was so sick at work, and B wouldn’t bring me anything, Moose was there. Bought me medicine, told me what to do to get healthy; He took care of me.
The whole time though, I tried to be supportive. I tried to be a good girlfriend. It’s hard though, when you go home and all you do with your boyfriend is sit around and hardly say a word. And the only one who ever makes an effort to be more than roommates is you. It’s not very easy to continue living like that.
But I tried. For months, I tried.
It was 2 weeks ago last Saturday that I made out with a girl. I was drunk, she was hitting on me, I thought ‘Hey, why not?!” We shared a very amazing, very public kiss outside of a bar. We continued the kiss in the car on the way home. I wasn’t thinking, and I didn’t know B would have a problem with it. I thought I’d been the only one who had a problem of me being with a girl without him. Also, I was drunk. I mentioned that, right?
But he was angry. Livid, actually. He cursed her up and down, he was angry with me that I’d done it. But I really liked her, and he didn’t even want me to see her, or talk to her, or mention her name again.
It took me days to realize it, but that Saturday was important for me. Because it made me realize that being with a girl isn’t something I can just tell myself that I don’t want. I can’t just cut that part of my sexuality off, like a switch. It doesn’t work that way. And afterwards, I felt on top of the world, after that Saturday. Not because I feel in love with her or anything, but because being with her was something that I’d so desperately craved for years. And it felt good. Really good.
This was not good for B’s depression. It made him feel even more inadequate, which drove an even bigger wedge in between us.
When I finally realized that being with girls is something I need, not all the time, just sometimes; I resisted him. We fought. For him, this was something that was just a matter of self-control. For me, I was a matter of being able and free to do something that i needed to do for me.
One particularly bad fight, when I wasn’t entirely sober; He told me that monogamy isn’t too much to ask from me, and if I didn’t agree that I should just leave now. He yelled the words LEAVE NOW, as he pointed towards the door.
Hearing those words, as he pointed towards the door, killed me. It hurt me so badly. I cried so hard that I started hyperventilating. He apologized, held me, kissed me; but the damage had already been done. The mere thought that he could not only mention those words, but be so okay with threatening me with them, that he could show me the way out.
And so the wedge got even bigger.
All the while, I had this feeling in my heart. This intense, undefinable feeling. I keep thinking it was guilt, from making out with a girl. Then I thought it was the distance between B and I. I kept trying to solve it, find out what it was… Tried to make it better. Nothing would help.
Six days after The Infamous Saturday, B called me after reading my blog, exactly one week ago. It was my last night at The Hotel. I was already emotional, and wanting the night to Just. Be. Over. already. He said he’d read my blog, and read about my elation about being with Her. He was hurt. I thought we were breaking up. Our entire conversations that night were like watching a train wreck in progress. Everything was slowed down, I could see everything unfolding in front of me, yet I sat back, powerless to keep it from happening.
We didn’t break up then. We just came really close.
Truth was, I had a crush on her. One I hadn’t really recognized, but still the feeling persisted after I did recognize it. That vague pain that I couldn’t put a name on, but was getting worse by the day. I found myself clinging to my friend Moose during those painful moments. The moments where the one person I thought I had in the whole world wouldn’t even answer my calls. And while I thought I understood, really the whole time I was making excuses for him. Trying to make it okay that I hardly had someone. While I definitely had someone to come home to, to cuddle with at night, I didn’t have anyone to help me tackle the world. I was essentially alone out there.
And it hurt. It hurt that he wouldn’t go out with me, wouldn’t even go to the grocery store with me. I started finding comfort in the presence of another man. I justified it at first, saying that I didn’t feel that way for him and he didn’t feel that way for me.
And that’s essentially how it happened. It wasn’t until I had a chance to sit down, and write what I felt that I finally realize what that vague, undefinable feeling was. I loved Moose. All that he’d helped me through in the past year, all the connections we forged, everything had made a friendship, and that inseparable friendship passed over into a romantic love that I’ve literally never known.
I’ve had people ask if I’m crazy, tell me I’m crazy. But, they never saw the nights that I slept alone. They never saw any of the painful moments that wedged us apart, because I wouldn’t let them. I hardly even let myself see them. So, I understand their thinking that.
But this has been months coming. It just wasn’t until last Monday, when I told him how I felt about him, that that feeling, that pain, finally subsided. When I was finally able to express my love for him into words, and then tell him, that I finally had some relief from the nagging, dull pain. I told him how deeply I cared, and he said he’d been in love with me since the first moment he saw me.
I tried not to fall for him. I tried to make myself believe that the feelings that were evolving inside of me for months weren’t what they obviously were. I tried everything in the book.
The only thing I regret is that I didn’t leave B before I told Moose how I felt. I essentially cheated on him, and that’s not who I am. I don’t think I was ready for the change. Three and a half years with one person, doing essentially the same things every day is big deal. And I didn’t know how to handle it, so I took the coward’s way out, and let him find out for himself.
It was killing me to lie, to everyone. But I didn’t know what to do, so I just tried to ignore it. But I found out the hard way that it’s better to face things up front than to wait for them to change themselves.
Things are still changing rapidly, but things are also very amazing. I’m doing stuff for me. I’m putting myself first for me and me alone, and it feels good to know that I am, at least, important to one person.
The truth was that I was lonely, and I think that things are going to be better, for both of us.
I tried for so long to convince myself that not only did I not have feelings for Moose, but that I sincerely loved B, and would stick with him through everything. But the truth is that I wasn’t happy. I was voluntarily blinding myself with love, and convincing myself that I didn’t need what I truly did. I was always sacrificing, always nurturing, always doing for him. And now? I get to do for me.
And I think I might be okay with that for a little while.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
B,
I don’t know if this will be the last letter I’ll write to you. I don’t know what the future holds in store for you or I. I don’t know if there is a way to properly tell you how sorry I am.
But I do know that you deserve someone who can give you everything that you want and need. I do know that you’re an amazing person. And I do know that you didn’t deserve what I did to you.
You asked me why, and I hope that this answers your question. It may not be what you wanted to hear, or in the way that you wanted to hear it, but there it is. In all its truth. And I do love you, and care about you, and wish nothing but the best for you. Because you deserve nothing less.
You have been an extremely instrumental person in my life, and I would not be who I am today if it weren’t for you. Thank you for loving me, and I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. The other day, when Obama passed Hillary in super-delegates, I wanted to tell you, until I realized that I couldn’t. Or when I downloaded Doctor Who. You’re still very special to me. You always will be.
I guess I just wanted you to know that. And that I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused you. If I could go back, and do it differently, I would.
I think we both would.
Miss Queen Bee
