Trying to Put it All in Words

It's been a long time.  A LONG long time.  The last time I wrote, I didn't even use new material, I just recycled something I'd written years ago.  I have not been in the right place for blogging.  But I'm going to try now to put everything that's been going on into words.  I don't have a clue where to start or what to say, really, so I apologize in advance for my ramblings.

Writing is therapeutic for me.  It always has been.  It's how I express myself, how I get the feelings that plague me out of my head, find release.  But I haven't been able to turn to that for a long time.  I'm still hesitant to write about most of this, as I know Callie reads my blog every now and then and I have never ever wanted to upset her (and I know seeing this will do just that.  Baby girl, I'm so so sorry).  But I need an outlet, finally.

I guess I'll start with the hardest part and work my way backwards: Callie and I broke up.


There it is.  I can't believe I've just written that.  I can't say it, think it, believe it.  It's been over a week and I am an absolute mess.  Just writing that has me in tears.  Again.

I can't express how profoundly sad I am over this, how much it destroys me to know how much she's hurting. How much I wish I could undo it. How desperately I wish I could be stronger and better able to handle our complicated situation.  How much I love her and always have.  And always will.

To make a long story short (it will surely be a long story long soon enough), I just am not strong enough.  I believe I have fought with everything I have, with every inch of me (though some may say selfishly, because I fought to have her in the way I wanted, or that I didn't really give everything I had, because in the end I let go).  I moved across the world to be with her.  I gave away my dog, left my job, my apartment, my friends and family to be with her.  Even though she would not leave her husband.  Even though she made it clear she never would, that she left him initially for all the wrong reasons.  I gave up everything I knew to be with her, because I had to.  And I will never ever regret that.

But somewhere along the line, I started to lose me.  I became unhealthy, obsessed, depressed, a shell of the person I used to be.  But still I continued to fight, because I needed to have her.  I needed her to be mine.  Yes, there were times I gave up.  We broke up and got back together so many times, because we were in this terrible cycle.  I would go crazy under the strain of having to share the love of my life.  But the magnetic pull between us was (and still is) so strong that we couldn't be without the other.  It happened over and over and over.  And one day it stopped.

Sort of.

This is the longest a break up has ever stuck.  We both know we need to try and move on with our lives, that we have to let it stick this time.  There is no other way to get out of this cycle of hurt.  She needs to try and find happiness with her husband.  I need to live my life.

But I can't stop holding out hope that her marriage will end.  (What kind of terrible person roots for a marriage to end?!)  Not because of me, but rather because it's run its course.  Because they are no longer compatible as husband and wife.  Because she's a lesbian, and no matter how much he loves her, he can't be married to a lesbian.  Because of any reason that would allow her to have no doubts, that wouldn't leave her choosing between him and me.  Because because because.

I can't stop holding out hope that this is NOT the end for us.  That when (if) their marriage ends, she will want to be with me, the real deal, the long haul.  Bride and bride converse, a house, a life, the works.  That 2 months from now, a year from now, 5 years from now, 50 years from now...we will have our shot.

She needs to be able to let go of the hope in order to move on and give it her all with her husband.  But I....I can't let go of the hope that someday...someday she will be mine and only mine.



I have just re-opened a wound that hasn't even begun to heal.  But it's had a band-aid on it all day, stopping the flow.  Because Callie and I have been talking.  Things have felt normal.  It's been the first day I have not cried (until now), that I have felt somewhat ok.  Which of course, complicates everything.  How can we not be together, when we are so damn GOOD together?

Fuck.

I need to go cry this out, escape in some TV show for a few hours, until I just can't possibly keep my eyes open any longer.  Then maybe I will have the strength to write more tomorrow.