It’s 4:37am, and I haven’t been to bed yet tonight.
I hadn’t planned to write this post tonight, much less as this rediculously late/early hour, but circumstances are such that it felt like the right time. I’m once again feeling that sense of what I call literary bulemia- if I don’t write it out, it’s going to suffocate me.
Maybe it’s only fitting that the last post in this series has come full circle to the first- to Paul.
I want to tell you about the joy, and the frustration, and the just-getting-by-ness of the last few months, but right now my head is spinning and I feel quite ill.
This story doesn’t have a happy ending, at least not this story up till now. It is with a heavy heart I tell you that Paul and I are no more.
Maybe honesty is too much to expect when two people are as far apart as we are. We both had things that we weren’t completely open about. But I never expected to find out the things I have tonight. I made my mistake by opening Pandora’s Box when I was warned it should have stayed firmly shut. The past should stay in the past. However when these were questions posed directly, and were firmly rooted in the topics of trust and faithfulness, I felt like I needed to know the answer. We were having so many problems with trust as it was, I needed the whole truth, and that was not forthcoming, so I forced the issue.
There is some irony in that this relationship started with one affair, and ended with another. One in the past, but the lies surrounding it in the present were not something I could deal with. I have no moral high horse to sit on where cheating is concerned, but I do take issue with lying. Strong issue, because when we had over 4000 miles between us, trust was really all we had to go on.
This was despite what I’ve previously been told, not the first rodeo.
The way I found out was less than noble. He gave me the password to one of his accounts for a project we were starting together, and due to some inconsistancies that were nagging at me over and over, I decided to try the password on another account. It worked. I found things, I confronted him about them, I’d thought we worked things out. Then I found other things, and more things. Things that didn’t add up. I emailed someone and flat out asked what had happened. Wrong? Yes. Do I regret it? The answer that came back hurt like hell because of what it verified, but I am far better off knowing than not.
Paul changed my life. It was because of him that I came out of my shell, and started to see my own self-worth. It was because of his love and support that I got through some of the harder times of the past year. He was there for me, and he believed in me. He taught me how to look at life as an adventure and not just something to be endured.
I wish him much happiness in his journey, and I’m sorry we couldn’t do that together.