Please have a read, and don’t forget to comment…

Cheating is a violation of the mutually agreed upon terms of an intimate relationship. Obviously, like any contract, the terms vary depending on what kind of a relationship you have, therefore altering the extent of a breach.

Infidelity may occur in two separate but not necessarily mutually exclusive areas of a relationship; emotional and physical. Physical infidelity deals with any form of sexual activity outside of the “monogamous” relationship, whereas emotional infidelity goes into a deeper involvement with the other person.

According to Freud, it is human and natural to have a desire for sex.

Thank you, Sigmund, for that riveting piece of analysis.  Never mind, he redeems himself by stating that “adultery is a classic manifestation of autonomic desires splitting the psyche of the adulterer.”

Traditionally (and I mean traditionally, not culturally or religiously. Yes, there is a difference), the fundamental purpose of marriage was to control sexual unification. According to Mr Freud, however, marriage cannot control sexual desires. This, I find is true. As history and cultures serve us, humans have been led to believe that: primarily, it is a “sin” to commit sexual conduct before a unification of one man and one woman before God (do not even get me started on LGBT’s, for the purpose of this article, I am not going to spur on another debate in the midst of this one); and secondarily, one must be married at a certain point in their lives in order to have a successful existence in the eyes of the community.

In reality, I’ve found that since we don’t really know what will happen to us once our existence has lapsed, we tend to make excuses for what we’ve done. If we do have sex relations before marriage, we don’t feel like we have sinned. In fact, it must have been so earth shattering that we found an excuse for doing it again – “well, I’ve already done it once before, so I might as well.”

Within a marriage people have made “mistakes”; “I’m sorry, my love, I didn’t mean to, she just came on to me” – we find ways of blaming the other person. Great men have fallen due to their “slight” indiscretion (see: Presidents Kennedy and Clinton, to name but two). Freud divides the human psyche into three parts; the id, the ego and the superego. These are not the “ego’s” that we, in this modern day, have grown to understand, love and hate. The id is responsible for our basic drives, has no concept of good or evil and has no morality. The id works according to a “pleasure principle” and avoids anything which does not derive it pleasure, which is where the desire for sex comes from. The ego works according to a “reality principle” and seeks to please the id in realistic ways; i.e. having sex with a partner in a monogamous relationship. The super-ego aims for perfection in a socially appropriate manner and includes ideals (of religion and community, etc) such that it punishes misbehaviour; i.e. getting married and not cheating.

Having said all this, if my partner we to commit an act of infidelity on me, I know what act I would commit on him/her. Ok, I’m exaggerating. I actually would not do anything. I have been cheated on numerous times and my reaction to each one has been different. I always say to myself that if my current partner were to cheat on me and if he told me about it and if it seemed like he was remorseful, I would probably not leave him. It would hurt, a lot. And it would take a long time for me to get over it, but I would, eventually. That’s what I tell myself, and him.

Often, it’s not that difficult to know how you would react to someone cheating on you (in a general sense) because the bottom line is that you can either: carry on the relationship and work through the infidelity; or you can leave him/her. What happens when you find out someone has been unfaithful and you cannot leave them?

A few years ago, I learnt that my father was having an affair. When I found out, it wasn’t the most conclusive evidence that may have been necessary to convict someone of adultery, and therefore, it wasn’t irrefutable for me either. So, for years I’ve known of his indiscretions and without any substantial proof, I’ve done and said nothing. Some years ago my mothers’ family suspected that he may be having an affair and my father made a whole episode of proclaiming that he would not do anything to jeopardise our family. His choice of words were extremely clever, I thought, when he rang me at university to make his statement of defence. He never said that he had not had an affair as I suppose he must have known those words bit Mr Clinton in his gluteus maximus when he proclaimed that he had not had “sexual relations with that woman.” Instead, he said he wouldn’t jeopardise the family. He was correct. He has always been a good father. As for being a good husband, that isn’t for me to judge, which is what I told him over the phone. I had convinced myself that it has nothing to do with me and if he felt like he needed to make amends, or whatever he was doing, then he should speak with my mother.

A few days ago, while I was vacationing, I receive a text message from my father which was OBVIOUSLY not meant for me. Now, I have semi-conclusive proof. When I read that message, I drank, a lot. I was out with friends and the only way I thought I could get it out of my mind was to drink. When I got home, I cried. It all compounded and I broke down.

My father knows that he slipped-up. And I can see that he keeps attempting to confirm whether or not I do, in fact, know. I haven’t said anything. I can’t seem to bring myself to say anything because I still don’t feel like I have conclusive proof. Then I think to myself if it is for me to act on. Because, in essence, in accordance with my previous stance, it has nothing to do with me.

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A white horse, from my knowledge, is that object you crave, but can never have.  It’s always there, but just out of your reach.  After time, the horse will eventually run, escaping your memory.  But don’t breathe too easily, because it will soon be replaced by a new, shiny white horse.  A white horse can be anything you want/need/crave/desire.  In this case, we’ll talk about the most desired: Women.

Since I can remember, there has always been a white horse in my life.  There are, of course, a few reasons that cause this to remain a white horse:

1. She’s too hot

This is a weird one for me.  I am of the opinion that once I know the girl a little, that I am talking to her, then I’d be able to take it any direction I wanted.  That was a while ago, and the Hot Girl was a big spanner in that thinking and confidence.  I don’t know why, but I’m increasingly more intimidated with the Hot Girl.  I know they’re just women too, but I just can’t seem to shake it.  So, more so now, there seems to be one around.

2. She’s a friend

Tough one.  I personally believe that platonic relationships are never truly possible.  But, unless I’m 329% sure that the “times” are aligned, there’s no way I would ruin a good friendship.

3. She has a boyfriend

Or fiance.  Or husband.  This is a fun topic, isn’t it.  You want a girl that has a guy.  I, personally, would never try and break them up, because you should never be that person.  But this person seems to always be someone you get along amazingly with.  You never really have a shot at it, and if you try, you may be that guy forever.

4. The one I fucked up with

The one from the past who you seriously screwed up with, and of course, you only realise this when it’s far too late.  You might be friends with this person now, or you no longer speak, but they’re always there in back of your mind.  What-ifs are no good, though.

5. I just don’t have the balls

When I was in high school, there was this girl.  Hot as the sun, we got on like crazy, but I just never did anything about it.  This is the one occasion where I might feel regret about not doing anything because I really have no excuse.

Of course, these situations are amplified if they’re a combination of each other.  Imagine 1, 2 and 3 were all one person.  That’s three things to have to get around.  And would you risk it?! But what if you were one of these people being talked about – What would you do?

A lot of people will argue that this would never effect them, but those are the same people that could go out and pick up anyone they’d like.  And that’s not me, and I’m not the type of person to take that risk where I’d lose everything.  But I think there comes a time where you need to risk it all?

So, which one do you think is around now, which one do you have around, what have I left out, which one are you or more importantly, what would you do…

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Jumping into something requires that you jump with two feet. There can’t be any of this half-arsed stuff. No playing around with people’s emotions because you’re unsure of what you want. My worry is I’ve seen it before. Not necessarily by me, but I’m seen it. And this time, it was me. I bought her flowers and made her excited, but my feet were firmly planted on either side of that line. The one foot might have joined the other at some point. It just didn’t stay there long enough, and by the time I was ready to figure stuff out, it was too late. The “problem” is, it wasn’t meant to get to this point. It was supposed to be relaxed and easy and uncomplicated. But this is reality.

It needed to end because I didn’t know if I could commit. There were a lot of things standing in the way, and so it ended. But it’s the same old story. You’ve heard it before. Yet i think it’s time to sort it out. There can’t be this constant fear every time I hit a certain point. The trouble is, it’s that fear that clarifies it in that specific light, making me think that that’s the way it is. Yes yes, I know, that doesn’t make any sense.

Writing my posts, however, is my way of letting go of things. I write them as my therapy. Of course I want them to be read. So I let people know, and I hope that they read them. But that isn’t the reason they’re there. I might write some things that aren’t very nice and some things that hurt. But, I don’t write them for that purpose. And, writing them might be wrong in every single way but I’m not sure I would stop. So if it hurts and bruises and bleeds, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for hurting and having to do it this way, but know that it isn’t the point of it all. Someone I met the other day told me that as soon as I start editing myself, and leaving things out like that, then it stops being real and honest. And it stops being me. Those of you that really know me will know that all I need is honesty.

I hope you can see that this is my attempt of admitting I’ve been wrong. I like to think I’m always right.  However, now I’m swallowing that pill. I’m done being a douche – it’s really not who I am. Or not someone I want to be. I’ve said it before; if you don’t learn from the experience then there was no real point to it in the first place. So I’ll be more mindful about jumping in and do it properly when I should be and stop being a mind fuck for people that matter. If only it was all a little simpler to do. If only we weren’t tiptoeing, afraid to make the leap. If only things weren’t so fragile. If only were weren’t so black and blue. But it’s exactly all of that which will make it all worth it in the end…

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I’m always right.  I’ve always been right.  But just once, I wanted to be wrong.  I wanted every feeling to be wrong.  So I went to the party.  I went with the intention of being a nice person.  And hoping for the best.   And I did.  I put all doubt aside, (mostly), and went.   But I was right.  Everything I had told my mind and my friends were right.  Oh, the irony of how we used to argue that she was always right.

I’m glad I didn’t try write and post on Saturday when I was so angry, because I would’ve probably been mean and brutal to the parties involved, but DTradegy cleared that up for me.  So I’m not going to be childish about this.  I’m going to tell the truth, because that’s what I do.

Through my medium-crisis breakdown a couple of weeks ago, I spoke about ending things with a girl.  It had reached the point where it had to go one of two ways, and this is the choice I made.  I have my reasons, and I’m not going to go into them now, but they are there.  And they are mine.  And they are valid.  But it was mainly because I had trust issues.  I was screwed over in the past, and yes, it’s going to effect the future, but that is my burden now.  And when I asked about what was going on, I was told there was nothing to worry about.   That I was being silly.  That there was no flirting.  That what I was seeing wasn’t really what I was seeing.  Yet, just three weeks later, here they were together.  I might be overly paranoid sometimes, but here it was, for all to see.  That makes me feel pretty kak.

I was upset because I did/do actually care. And that’s normal.  But I’m not sure if people were being malicious. AND, what really annoys me, is that the guy involved knew the situation.  He knows me.  Yet he didn’t even say a word to me about things.  But I suppose this is how people are.  People only have themselves in mind, and maybe we all need to start to be the same for self-preservation and a drama free life?  I’m also shocked at how fast she got over things.  Which makes me think that she was just trying to throw it in my face, but the other side of my head says to not think that, that people are not malicious and that their actions are, in fact, for themselves.  Or maybe this really was her way of saying fuck you?

In the last few days of thinking about it, I have come to some clear conclusions that I am fully aware of:

• I ended things – This doesn’t change how I felt.  I guess you have your reasons for doing what you did, but I also want you to be aware of what you’re doing.  I’m not here to hurt you, so get that out your head.  But just think about why I might be behaving the way I am.  Think about yourself.  Don’t force things just because you want something.  I know I have my problems, but I know pushing it now would not have helped anyone.
• My gut is right.  Always.
• People never surprise you.
• I have awesome people in my life – You should know who you are.

So I’m done ranting and talking about this now.  I’ve had enough of it pressed on inside.  But I have a friend’s voice of reason in my head that always reminds me of how things are.  He’s telling me to stop over-thinking every issue and just let things happen.  And so I shall…

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Okay, so maybe that’s a little extreme.  But only maybe.  I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the last few months have proven to be very successful for budding wedding ceremonies – From engagements to just the plain old two people getting together on a serious level.  I don’t know if it’s the water at the moment, but the couple bug seems to be going around.  Be aware!

Now, I don’t want to be rude, insensitive, or otherwise, and I certainly don’t intend to offend anyone but, I am just going to remind you that this is my blog.  Now, in saying that, there is little worse than feeling slightly alone, and living with 2 people that are in new relationships.

You know, the honeymoon stage.  Granted, one couple is more affectionate than the other, albeit, a lot more, it still makes a difference being there all the time.  I don’t think that they make it worse, maybe just aware.

It was Valentine’s day on Sunday but, it doesn’t bother me.  What bothers me is that I don’t think I have met one person over the last 19 months or so, that I can actually be with.  That “can” has many connotations with it – They may include age, current status, location, etc.

But the fact of the matter is that I want sparks. And bubbles.  And all those other things that everyone craves so badly.

I know you can not force these, but it doesn’t mean I can’t want them.  Yes, I’ve been on the odd date, even though not for a while, and yes, I know I’m a good person, and all those things… it’s still a desire i have.

I will keep trying to go out and meet new people.  This is one of my tasks for the year.  Once I can do that, maybe I’ll be able to meet some people I like.  Work, as well, has been sapping a lot of my energy but, I don’t mind that too much.  It’s something that I think is worth it. For me.

Anyway, that was just something I needed to get off my chest.  I am not unhappy, just unsettled.  Fidgety.  We’ll just see how this year will unfold.

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Now, I have tried on numerous occasions to write this without telling a story, but that has proven to be very difficult. Anyway, it’s a little long, but please bear with me, as I finally get it out.

A lot of people will tell you that one of the best ways to get over an ex is to jump into bed with who ever will have you.  This has it’s obvious benefits, but it has just as many negatives.

As most of you might know, my break up came to me as a bit of a surprise.  Yes, there were the problems that we were both very aware of, and the fact that she was moving to a new city played a huge role in it, but that exact reason was what I thought would keep us together until the very last possible moment.  It wasn’t to be, and I found myself hanging on.  (This is something I feel is quite obvious, though.  The person that is the one left clutching at straws will always have some hope… Blah blah blah). Anyway, about a month later, I was chatting to this girl online.  We’ll call her ‘RBG’. We were friends of friends and have never met but had occasionally chatted via the mass emails that were sent over Gmail. I actually thought she was a bit freaky.  In the state I was in, there was little that was better than staying at home every night and spending large amount of time online doing nothing in particular.

It started very simply, one night:

22:16 RBG: Why on earth are you online at this time of night?

That night, we spoke for an hour. 240 lines long. A week later, the conversations spanned over 600 lines. RBG and I started chatting a lot more.  We got on really well with each other.  Sent a couple of photos to each other.  Told each other secrets.  She had recently broken up with her long term boyfriend.  She was the perfect distraction.  I had started feeling myself again.   A day after 600 lines, I went over to her place with a bottle of wine.  We had officially met.  We watched a movie, ate chocolate and drank rather large glasses of wine.  All was well.  And it ended very well.  I stayed over there that night and it pretty much took off from there.  I was the perfect person.  I made her dinner.  I did the dishes when she cooked.  I made her smile and laugh.  And, I made her sweat,  I left her wanting more.  I was so excited by her.  I told my friends about her.  She even took me to a ballet, and I went with no second thought.  I tried to make her happy.  She, after all, was also going through one or two bad things too.  We were both aware of the dangers after just getting out of a relationship.  And I certainly was not ready for anything crazy deep.  But what we had was awesome.  And now, SHE left me wanting more.  This was surprising.  This was good.  This, all the while, trying to forget the ex.

And it was working too.  Until the ex called.  She needed something one night, and she didn’t know who else to call.  Generally, I am the guy that friends would call when they’re in a spot, and I would help out without thinking about it.  I had no problem with it.  Now, that, along with the fact that my ex now was wanting to see me, had me out there helping without any hesitance in 5 seconds flat.

This is where The Ex and I sort of started talking again. It had been about 7 or 8 weeks since we had broken up and I was quite happy not talking to her.  But I missed her.   And, you still have that little bit of something that tells you she wants you back.  She broke up with me, of course I thought she had some inkling to get back together.  But that really was never my intention.  It was over and I had completely accepted that. Then why the hell was I fixing things?  Why did we start talking again?  Why did we try so damn hard?!  It always seems worth, but now, isn’t hindsight the most wonderful thing.

RBG and I had been seeing each other for a couple of months and it was amazing. Everything I did with her was great.  Every second was worth it.  I never wanted to be anywhere else or with anyone else.  It was a tough time, though. We were both writing exams and had other things happening.   But this was when my head told me that I wasn’t ready to a relationship.  “STOP!  What the fuck are you doing?!  You are bruised and broken and here you are putting yourself in a vulnerable position! Idiot!”

“But it made me feel better!” I tried to reason.   But no, my brain took over and started to affect the relationship RBG and I had.  I stopped trying, and stopped being so affectionate.  But I still loved being around her and with her.  And then I lied to The Ex.  I had told her that I hadn’t been with anyone, thinking that this would tell her how weak I was and how much she should know I needed her.  Again, blah blah blah! Whatthefuck was I thinking?!  In reality, I think I needed to know if she had been with anyone.  But no one should ever have that knowledge.  It will only cause more damage than good.   I think this is a good time to point out that RBG knew I was seeing the ex, and this made things very difficult.  She was uncomfortable with it, and I could see it in her face, yet she never really said anything.

I kept seeing RBG for a another couple of weeks or so after that day at The Ex’s.  A bit later, I was seeing The Ex again, and somehow, my lie had reared it’s ugly head.  There were a lot of tears.  I then had to explain a lot.  Some things I wouldn’t have ordinarily told her.  Things about RBG – Like how long and if I had feelings for her. She said it was for me lying to her, that all her trust had disappeared and she didn’t think we could ever be friends.  These were not the words I ever wanted to hear, especially after we were so cautious to be friends again. After much arguing and trying to calm her, we eventually found a sort of middle ground.  I can’t really explain it now, because I’m not entirely sure I understood it all – I mean, I was still confused as to why we had broken up in the first place.

The next day, RBG was leaving. She had finished varsity and was moving back home to a land far far away.  Things with her and I had to end.  She was moving away, only to be seen when she came back to pack up her house. We spoke and both knew we needed to end things. So we did. Right?  She was clearly very attached, and I knew it too.  But so was I.  We eventually said goodbye with a kiss. Reality is too complex to let it end there.  We continued to sms each other messages and chatted regularly.  The time came and she was coming back to Cape Town.  I tried not to kiss her, but resistance was futile.  It only went as far as that kiss but the next day, I slapped her with the news that I would be driving across the country with The Ex to move her back to her home.  Things were not well and we stopped talking completely. But this was what I wanted and needed right?  To get that emotional worry and burden out my life while I still so raw from the last one.  (Just for the record, nothing happened between The Ex and me on the drive.  Nothing at all.  Can someone be the first to believe it?)

I’m not sure what happened but she eventually stopped being angry at me and we chatted once or twice.  She told me she would be back here for new years.  I was apprehensive but the day came and I was actually going to go.  It was at a house in a town about an hour outside here.  I had met the host once but there were a few close friends going and they convinced me to go.  I mean, what else could I do?!    A few of the group, some of which I had never met, went through a few days before. This few included RBG.  So I drove there in my car.  Things were weird.   Very uncomfortable, but I was determined to be okay with it and we would see how things would go.  We all took a walk down to the beach.  It was there that I noticed RBG and The Host.  There was definitely something there.  I’m not blind (really).  I saw it.  And it upset me.  I was furious.  Who did this guy think he was?!  And seriously, what was her aim in this whole thing?

I tried to put it aside, I even invited her to go to the shops with me to talk it out, but she declined.  Things were still very weird with us.  So I left the house and tried to make myself feel better. It didn’t work.  I was a little shocked that I even felt this way in the first place.  I wasn’t the one who was supposed to have these feelings.  I was clearly in this more than I had ever realised.

We eventually got the balls to sit down and talk about it.  Alcohol is good for some things.  She told me that she missed me and I told her the same.  She kissed me, and I kissed her back.  She then stops and tells me that she can’t and needs to go back to the party.  Things are a little better.  She tells me that we need to try and enjoy ourselves. Pah!  Simple, hey.  We leave her room and go our separate ways.  She goes back to The Host, and at least she tries to be discrete about it.  He looks at me.  I tell him with my eyes that she really wants to be with me, and you’re just a lame second.  Oh yes, you’re an asshole too.

We do our own thing, but I don’t feel any better.  I tell a friend about it, and he hates the guy with me.  Calls her a bitch too.  Haha.  It’s the little things, I guess.  RBG and I try and play is cool, but that doesn’t seem to be working, and we found ourselves in her room again.  We kiss again.  All over each other, but someone breaks the kiss.  She looks upset, and starts to cry.  I don’t quite know what to do, but we talk it out for a little bit, before she looks deeply into my eyes and tells me that she’s fallen in love with me.  I’m pretty much speechless at this stage, and I don’t really know what do do or say.  I remember kissing her again.  We talk for a little bit more about how much of an idiot I have been and how things may have been different.  She again leaves, saying that she can’t do this, even thought she so desperately wants to as she has spent he last few weeks trying to repair herself.  She tells me that I crushed her.  She leaves to go back to The Host, and I avoid her.  I get really angry.  Frustrated.  Lost. Mad. You name it.  And this cocky, womanising fuck with his condescending smirk, just being there.

So the friend and I got high.  It was quite possibly the best thing I could do.  I tried to stay away and pretend.  But I knew I couldn’t.  And so did she.  We didn’t speak again that night.  When sleep finally called me, I found myself a couch and closed my eyes, hoping for it to come soon.  Instead, all I could hear were sounds.  Not sounds you ever want to hear.  Sounds of her with him.  Sounds that make you want to be sick.  Even a year later, they still make me sick.  It’s something I will never forget.

The next day went quickly.  I left the instant I could, and that was that.  We didn’t speak for a long time.  But when we finally did, she wanted to know why I was so upset.  So I told her.  She had no idea what had happened.  Didn’t help the fact that it hurt so much.  Didn’t change anything.  She left a few weeks later to the UK, and I wanted nothing to do with her.  But I forgive people too easily.  Never forgetting.  I will never forget.  This year has been hard, but it’s another thing that has helped me grow.  I forgave her and a few months later we were talking again.  Things were okay.  I was over it. Mostly.  Yet, ironically, I missed her a lot.  Can’t explain why, but it just is.  I don’t know if I ever loved her, but she’s a really lovely person that just helped in the whole process.   I know I hurt her.  But she hurt me too. In saying that, I think she and I will be really good friends one day, if not already.

So, there I sat, months later, missing RBG.  A lot. I tried to tell her too.  In fact, I did tell her.  I used those exact words, but whether it was the wall she had put up to protect herself, or she just didn’t care anymore, but I didn’t get the response I was looking for.  Using another cliché, you never know what you have until it’s gone. And the cherry on top, the grass is always greener on the other side. Always.

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Dear Friend/Lover/Companion

It’s been about two weeks since we last spoke.  We ended a roller-coaster breakup with a real goodbye.  A goodbye where you no longer want to even think about me.  I still think about you, though, even though it’s been this long.  I hope you do too.  But it’s not the same way anymore.  How could it be.  I miss you.  I miss the person you are, or at least were.  I’m sure you’ve changed, as I have.  But deep down, I’m still the core being I’ve always been, I just know it better now.  I know what I want, and I know if I’ll be able to get it out of every situation.  But it’s you I miss.  You were my best friend, my confidante, my lover.  You knew my every secret and I knew yours, and we still loved for them.

I’m not sure if this is the way it was supposed to be.  It might have been less painful had we ended things this way from the start.  Although, we all need certain things to happen in order to learn and grow€¦ But I’m not sure these were worth it.
Like you said, I don’t regret anything.  Being with you was worth it.  Every day.  We made each other happy, and I will always love you for it.  I will always love you.  I don’t care what else has happened, or what people say, that could never change.

Your friends still hold that grudge against me that they always have.  Only you could really understand this and see the humour in it.  I thought with you in another city I would be able to at least not have to worry about anything, and have you not in my face.  But even this weekend, when one of your friends introduced me as “This is Neal.  You know, J’s Neal”, with her stupid condescending tone, it still made me angry and upset.  They judge me.  But how dare they.  They were never my friends, and I’m glad they are yours.

Today is your birthday.  It’s the first birthday in 5 years that we are not speaking.  That’s a long time.  But at least I didn’t have to stress over your present for weeks before choosing several.  It’s been very difficult to not wish you, but those were your rules, and I’m playing by them.  It’s time we actually started doing that.  But that rule-breaking is exactly how we got together.  I really do hope you’ve had a good day.

My mother still talks about you, so all those fears you had were rubbish, as I always told you.  I’ve said it before, and I’ll probably say it many times again after this, but thank you.  Sincerely and honestly.  For the gifts and friendship and love and memories and everything.  You made me smile. You got me.  I know it wasn’t always pretty, but when it was, it was.  You will never be forgotten.

I really hope you get to read this letter, because this is my last letter to you.  I will not send it to you, because that would be unfair, but maybe, somehow, you know it’s here.  I’m not sure you fully understand how the blog works, or how it’s helped me, but you need to stop being angry about it and try appreciate the good it’s brought.  After not knowing this for a while, I do want the best for you, as you would want the same.   Anger made me not care, but that has subsided.  It’s all very clear now.

So yes, this is goodbye.  But it is unfortunate.  You were right, nothing has changed.  But so was I – Everything has changed…

Love you always,
Neal

PS – I was going to add “In a beautiful pea-green boat”, but then I thought that might not be appropriate€¦

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It’s a little bit weird for me that it still has a “catch-your-breath” effect on me.  The relationship ended ages ago.  Sure, there were things in the middle to act as speed bumps, but still.  Yet it does, and when I saw her name on my phone, I did stop breathing.  I answered, and it began€¦

She was angry.  Very angry.  She had found my blog (after talking to a mutual friend about blogs).  Her curiosity must have gotten the better of her, and she just had to look.  Of course, one of the featured posts is about cheating.  Her cheating.  And so she read.  She read of all the things she had done, and the feelings it caused me.  She read the comments written by followers of how she “is a leech” and how “she’s poisoning your life”.  I’m not saying that these statements were wrong, but they were never meant for her eyes.  They were for me.

There was always the chance that she would come across the site, and I’ve never tried to hide anything.  I’ve never lied.  I was open and honest in my forum.  I never directly mentioned her, nor have I slandered or said anything mean.  If you don’t really know me, then you have NO idea who I’m talking about, and if you’re close enough to know, then you already know.  People who don’t blog could never understand what it’s like to have a whole separate world to talk to and to have them listen too, no matter who they are.  I hope I don’t know half the readers.  That’s what it’s about for me.  That’s what I want.  Those same people that “don’t get Twitter” could not understand it.  But that’s okay too.  You don’t need to.  This is my world and my life.

In retrospect, she didn’t explain why she was so upset, or in fact, explain anything, so I can’t really explain it myself, but I suppose she has some value to her argument, and that is fine.  But this was not the way I wanted things.  I kept having to remind myself about what she had done in order to be angry again and not want to see her.  I still miss her.  Not everything that came with it, but her.  I miss the person.

In her angered frame of mind she told me to delete every contact I have of her.  I won’t.  That would be silly.  But she no longer wants to talk to me.  And I have to respect that.  She called again a bit later, calmer and we had a small chat.  She thanked me for everything that we had.  It really was amazing.  I tried to tell her the same.  But she still wants nothing to do with me again.  Ever.  Perhaps this is the way it was supposed to be? I don’t know.  I do know that I’m feeling sad just knowing it’s no longer a friendship, and that person isn’t quite there.  I can’t really explain it further than that.  I just wish it didn’t have to be this way.

I don’t know if she will ever read this again, I don’t think it matters, but I don’t think it’ll change how or what I write.  She hinted that I delete the post.  I could never.  I have deleted one post, for the fear of causing a rift with my best childhood friend.  This is my source of expression and my chance to be as open as I want to be without the risk of any judgement.   This is my blog.  I’ve put a lot of work into it, and I have every right to put here whatever I feel.  It just so happens that my blog is personal, but it’s just that.  It’s personal.  About me. My life.  I am truly sorry it upset her so much, and sorry that it has now caused what it has, but I’m not sorry I wrote it.  It was for me.  And for now, that’s what it’s all about.

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I hope that you have never been cheated on.  I also hope that you have never cheated on anyone.  Let’s face it though, even good people cheat.  When I was 19, I cheated on my then long-term girlfriend.  It was a young-love long-distance relationship and I was drunk, young and after tail.  The issues that ensued were ridiculous, and ultimately were a big part of our relationship ending, be it 6 months later.  But the moral of the story, for me anyway, was that I needed to at that stage, to protect all future girlfriends.  I never cheated on my ex.  Granted, our first year together was a stupid let’s-see-who-can-hurt-the-other-more scenario, but it was never cheating.

I feel very sorry for those guys that always cheat on their girl, and I don’t really understand it.  If you are in a relationship where you’d rather be with someone else, then end it.  If you don’t have the balls to end it, then suck it up and be miserable, but don’t keep cheating on your partner because the opportunity presents itself and you’re too immature to be an adult about it.  It makes me angry when people of a sufficient age cheat.  And it’s made even worse by those same idiots that constantly do it, whether it’s with the same person, who’s also too weak to run, or if it’s with a different girl each time.  Learn from your mistakes.  People do change.  They grow.  They mature.  They become who they should be.

I don’t want to, so I won’t, but I’m not going to explain my reasons to what happened today.  To why I put myself in that position in the first place.  Each relationship is different and should be treated as such, and I treated mine, and my break up, the way i thought it should be.  I took my time, and never forced anything, and this has worked really well for me.  I have been happy.  I didn’t care how long it took.  So, I might expect you to judge me for still staying in contact, but we all have our reasons, and when mine becomes clear, maybe I’ll share them with you.  But yes, we still talk every now and then, and that’s okay with me.

We were also talking Monday night when she was upset about something, but assured me things were fine.  I know her well.  Things were not fine.  On Tuesday, she was online again and she eventually asked if she thought it was okay that we spoke about their relationship.  She still wanted that from me.  She promised me that she wouldn’t lean on me when things were bad, but things were obviously really bad.  I told her that I didn’t think it was okay, but that we should still talk. This was a huge mistake.  Thankfully she argued with me for a while about telling me.  I told her it would be okay, even though it would never have been.  She didn’t and that was that.

Then came today.  Wednesday.  She asked me if I had told anyone about us being together at the beginning of the year.  About our moment of weakness and vulnerability.  Don’t roll your eyes, it happens all the time.  It’s part of the whole cycle, and I also saw it as closure.  Or whatever.  Anyway, I hadn’t mentioned it and she asked that I didn’t.  Fine.  “Because he can’t find out.  Even though we weren’t ‘offical’, he would view it as cheating”.  Hmmmm.  Interesting.  Details aside, but at that instant, he found out about it. She said she had to go away for something and I didn’t hear from her in a while.  She had left me hanging in the middle of our conversation.  I had no clue what was happening.  I was a little confused and just needed answers now.  But eventually she called.  Very upset.  She and him had ended it.  I was in my happy place lately, and not even having to deal with this was going to change that.  So I spoke to her.  I reasoned and did my best to tell her she was okay.  She really wasn’t, though.  We spoke about us for a little bit.  There were a lot of silences.  And then, in a quiet whisper, she told me that she had cheated on me.

There are few things worse than cheating on a long term partner.  Lying is pretty high up there.  I never asked her, while we were going out, if she had ever cheated on me, because I trusted her.  When we broke up, all insecurities forced me to ask her, and she told me no.  That was the same answer she gave me every time asked, and I asked a few times.  ”No”.  It must have been burning inside.  For the last four or five months of our relationship, she lied to me.  It was while she was in England.  With someone I trusted as far as I could throw.  I’ve said it before, and will probably say it a few times again, but trust your instincts.  That little feeling inside.  It knows things.

She was not in a good place today, but I suppose I shouldn’t be caring.  But I do.  Not for anything that I’m holding onto, because that phase has gone, but for the person.  For her.  I think when things have calmed down a little bit, I might release some of the anger that must be building inside.  I have been calm and collected.  I have been distracted. But alone time is a broken soul’s enemy.  Leave your brain to think, and it will.  It’ll think about them together.   About her coming back and being with you, telling you she loves you.  And maybe even about how your breakup makes a little more sense to you.

She always valued lying as the worst thing you could ever do.  I wonder if she knows what she’s done.  I know she’s upset, but I wish she would just know.  I’m not angry yet, and only sometimes am I upset.  I’m sure once this light goes off, and my head touches the pillow, I’ll be a different person.  But right now, I’m still just okay.  I know, though, that it won’t last, and with that, I’m still okay.

Now, it’s going to get a little soppy, so if you’re sensitive to that type of behavior, you may want to look away.

Don’t cheat on your partner.  No matter how far into a relationship you are.  But people make mistakes, we’re only human.  Just don’t you dare fucking lie about it.  Be honest and open with the person you supposedly love, because it’s not just you in it, there is another fragile person too.

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But now, weeks pass and you miss it.  Badly.  You miss your horse.  The way it galloped in a technique only you could fathom.  And it had the most beautifully groomed mane.  But that bitch broke you.  And you never forget.  So you try a few other horses.  Ugly, unattractive, shallow horses, but they ride really badly and all you’re left with is a stiff back and what feels like a hangover.  Then, one day, you’re walking through the stables and you come across a real beauty, the kind of horse that makes you stop and just admire.  Without thinking, you jump on it, and bolt out the stable at full speed, riding for miles and miles.  You’re having a really great time until you realise how far you’ve gone out and you’re already exhausted.  The horse still seems ready for more, so you slow down to a trot to try keep it happy, but it still doesn’t help.  You’re too concerned your riding fitness is really low, so you eventually turn and make your way back, with the horse seemingly unhappy.  You eventually get back to the stables, and dismount slowly.  You’re both hurting, and went way to fast to appreciate it properly.  You leave awkwardly and call every now and then to see how the horse is, but that long hard ride caused reoccurring injuries that you thought were all better.  This time, treatment is harder, longer, and much more painful.  You don’t think you’ll ever ride again.

The hardest part of a breakup is the recovery, obviously.  No one can tell you how to do it, or how long it’ll take before you’re okay, but when you’re ready to jump back on the horse, you’ll know.  About a month after my breakup, I got together with a really amazing girl.  We were together for a few months, but it really was too soon for me, and I ruined something that may have been very different if it had been at a different time.  I’m so truly happy that it happened, maybe not totally the way it did happen, but happy, still, and I’m really glad we’re good friends now.  She doesn’t really know how much I appreciate her and how much I really adore her.  I’ve tried to tell her, but I’m not sure she really believes me.  Needless-to-say, she was soon out of my life, and I was once again left in a painful hole.

The good thing about this time is that it was my time.  It was the first time in quite a few years that I was just with me, to be me, to learn more and to grow.  The recovery period has taken a long time, but it really has been about me; I haven’t even had the odd fling.  But now, I think I’m ready, for whatever this damn world has to offer.

Or so I thought.  I had been chatting to this girl for quite some time, getting quite close, and very personal.  And I kinda really liked her.  But Twitter causes problems as well as fixes them, and due to our online presence, we both got affected by seeing things, even if there wasn’t anything there to begin with.  And what makes it worse, we were not in any type of real relationship whatsoever.  Wait, that can’t be true, I like this girl.  But she got hurt, and drifted slowly away without actually telling me what was wrong, and I was far too slow in drawing the answer out of her.  So, after all of that, she wanted the “let’s start from the beginning” approach.  Yay.

So, here we sit, both online.  My brain tells me not to message her because I shouldn’t.  It really sucks when you know you should stop, but you just can’t.  So, of course, the first few nights I didn’t stop.  I tried, tried both to stop, and then to see if there was anything still there.  Too little to late, though, and I got nothing.  There was once a small glimmer, a glimmer I didn’t quite understand, but it turned out to be a funny reflection.  She’s still online and it makes me wonder who she’s talking to now, who has her pretty, amazing attention.  She’s probably reading this, in which case, don’t get freaked out, but it had to be said.  I guess it’s time for another medium recovery now.  It’s a real pity.  Really.  But I’m ready, and I will be fine.  Bring on the stables…

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