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lessons learned.


One week ago today, I walked into my (now ex-) boyfriend’s house and found two used condoms in the toilet and the scent of another woman on his pillow, which was technically my pillow when I spent the night. He said he meant to tell me that day, that he wanted to tell me when the time was right – which apparently wasn’t that night, because he was perfectly content with letting me sleep in the same bed he fucked another woman in the night before, letting me smell her on the pillow, like everything was fine.

I would have never, ever considered him a bastard until this moment.

It all started off promising enough 5 months ago. We went out of our way to see each other everyday – sometimes twice a day if we could. I fell in love, hard. For the first time, really. Before him I had never trusted anyone enough to fall in love, but he assured me it was safe. I had been burned so many times, he knew that.

Speaking of burning, everyone tells me to burn everything he ever gave me. But he never gave me anything material to burn. He, on the other hand, has lots of things to burn. If the tables were turned, he’d have one hell of a bonfire. Sometimes I wonder if every time he buttons up a shirt I bought him, or any time he steps out of the shower on to the rug and dries off with a towel I paid for, or whenever he listens to a song on the iPod I gave him for his birthday, if he thinks of how much he disrespected me and the love I had for him. Most of me doesn’t care anymore, what’s done is done, and I’m making peace with it. But there’s still a small patch of my soul that wishes he would reach out to let me know he’s remorseful… that I wasn’t a complete fool, that there was some truth to it all, and that it wasn’t all in vain.

I knew it wasn’t working. Deep down, I knew. But it was so nice to have someone there, even though he really wasn’t. The thought of it was comforting. The idea of it was what I’d wanted for so long, it’s what kept my heart in it. I kept convincing myself it was just a rough patch, this ridiculous state of relationship ambiguity was temporary. But I knew.

This isn’t meant to put him on blast (although it is a nice plus), but as a reminder to myself of the lessons I’ve learned. I’ve gotten to know a lot about myself in the time we were with each other, as well as the true character of other people. I’m honestly not angry anymore – that’s just wasted energy. Once in a while I catch myself thinking “How could someone do this? How could someone treat another human being this way?”, then I have to snap out of it. It was never anything I did. All I did was love the best I could and give everything I had, what else can you do?

If he was smart, he would have stuck it out until after the holidays and at least got a decent Christmas present out of it. It was gonna be good, too.

Am I glad it happened the way it did? Hell no. But it happened and I’m learning from it every day. The power went out on Tuesday night, so I couldn’t do anything but listen to my iPod, sit in the dark and think. I think it was God’s little way of making me sort it out before the emotion of it all got the best of me. Someone once told me that we have to bear the burden of situations we sometimes don’t understand, because we’re strong enough to do so, while others aren’t. Some people just aren’t built for that kind of loss and heartache, but apparently I am. On the bright side (of this dark, niggerish cloud), I get to fall in love again eventually, and that’s always fun.

I’m gonna go get my chakra’s cleansed.

Footnotes to Myself – Lessons Learned:
Trust your intuition.
Don’t hold on and be afraid to lose something that’s already lost.
You’ll be able to trust someone again, you’ll just never trust *him again.
Don’t give so much so fast. Don’t fall so fast so hard, if you can help it.