TIL: I'm still angry at Jeff, but I'd like to let that go.
TIL: I can walk 8.5 miles at one go
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I saw Jeff riding his bicycle up from the valley this morning, while Athena and I were out walking. I'm not sure I'd have known it was him, except he waved as he rode by. That and he may be the only bicyclist out there who doesn't wear performance gear.
I like to switch up where we walk, so Athena and I don't go that way often. I wanted a long walk today, and that route is a favorite because so much of it is grass instead of concrete. I wasn't hoping or trying to see Jeff, but I knew it was possible. He used to ride the motorcycle down into the valley just for fun, and when we rode with Frank's cycling group that's the way we came home. He hadn't ridden either bicycle or motorcycle much in the last few years of our relationship though, so it was also possible I'd never see him.
I spent the rest of our walk thinking about him. I wondered if he would spend time thinking about me. I wondered if he would try to call. I recently blocked him on my phone, because knowing he couldn't call was the only way I could think of to stop obsessing and wondering every day if he would. I don't really believe he'll ever want to talk with me again, as based on our last conversation he doesn't think very highly of me. Still, he did say he'd been about to call me that one time I called him about a Red Cross case.
He loved to quote Homer Simposon: "It takes two to lie: one to lie and one to listen."
It makes me sad now to realize how often he lied, telling me what I wanted to hear. I believed him without question. He called it diplomacy. He didn't have to say anything that day I called about the Red Cross, but his knee jerk reaction was to lie. Maybe he felt guilty for not calling when he'd told me he wanted to be friends. Of course that was also a lie. He just doesn't want to be enemies.
There were so many lies. When I wanted to do something he didn't, he'd say "we'll talk about it." It took me YEARS to figure out that really meant No. When I pointed this out, he started saying "we'll see" instead. I understand why he doesn't like confrontation, and why it's so hard for him to tell someone No. He's a survivor of verbal, emotional, and physical abuse. He's a people pleaser.
I understand so much more now. I knew nothing about his drinking, his abandonment issues, his insecurities.
I realize now he didn't love me, as a person. He loved the way he felt because I loved him. Stress and depression reduced my capacity to show that love. At the same time, he hated himself for succumbing to his addiction. In his insecurity, he determined my love had died. He felt abandoned. Because he hated himself for drinking, he had no respect for my struggles with addiction. Because he was insecure and didn't love or respect me, he viewed my motives in the worst possible light.
I'm still disappointed, hurt, and angry with him. Even understanding his difficulties with confrontation, I thought him more mature than to end a 13+ year relationship with a text. At one time he showed far greater emotional maturity. We had long discussions about owning our mistakes and feelings. I also cannot forget the blame cannon he pointed at me after the breakup, mostly for things that were actually his own fault.
He was the first to speak my love language, our relationship the first time I truly felt loved. I told him this all the time. It was extremely disappointing to learn I wasn't loved after all. It makes me sad to think he may not be capable of more.
Even after he broke up with me, I always viewed his actions under the best possible light. I was disappointed to learn he viewed (and still views) mine under the worst. While seemingly accepting of the most base behavior in his friends, he exhibits no understanding or empathy for the emotional turmoil I was unsuccesfully dealing with, and has no forgiveness for my resulting actions.
I knew he'd tell a salesperson "we'll be back", or tell me "we'll talk about it" rather than admit he wasn't interested. I'm disappointed in myself for repeatedly asking if he'd consider giving us another chance, and believing him when he said yes. I didn't realize his true feelings until he expressed rancor even after a full year apart.
I do still love him. I also understand we never had a chance at happily ever after. I'm prone to depression, withdrawing into myself to either wither under or struggle against the voices in my head. He is prone to viewing withdrawal as abandonment. His survival instinct is then to push away and remove himself from the source of such pain. With no love, no patience or desire to understand why I withdrew, we were destined to fail.
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