I’ve had this pain in my body. An earache. Stomach ache. Confusion in my head. What to do. Not to do.

Wondering what is the “real” Tommy- it is like he is mentally ill and gets possessed by a demon spirit that makes him say the most awful things. Or is this just the way entitled white privileged spoiled abused boys who are middle-aged act? Because the fucked up thing is- that sometimes, sometimes, he isn’t that. And he seems intelligent and kind and aware. I mean, he does Reiki healing?? How fucked up is that??

I saw my therapist and she reminded me that they both are real. That he is as beautiful and he is cruel. And the trick is to figure out how much “asshole” I am willing to live with. Because that part is as real as the other, and not going away anytime soon.



I ended it with Tommy today. We were arguing, again, about why I am not comfortable with my daughter being a part of our relationship right now and he just won’t let it go- so I reminded him about his inappropriate “joking” and he said that he had friends in Santa Barbara that were allowed to make fun of each other. So I told him he should go hang out with them and that it was over. There was some yelling, I believe.

I have not spoken to him but we did text and I emailed him that I could not let go of what happened and his mean sense of humor.

That I had to walk away.

He told me that this was true love. That he loves me more intensely than anyone before in his life.
It is hard for me to believe that if he loved me he could speak to me that way.

I am now watching 9 ½ Weeks.

Seems appropriate.

Maybe I’ll smoke a joint as well.


We spoke on the phone last night. Facetime. He was humble and ashamed of what he had done. He said he was sorry. He was learning. He knows he ruined it. He said a lot more. Everything I wish he had said weeks ago. There was a lot of crying. Both sides. We talked about what we appreciated from the relationship. And we said goodbye. It was a much longer conversation than that. But suffice to say- it ended on a good note.

And then today, he keeps telling me he loves me. And wants to speak on Sunday.

And I find myself watching the video of him playing his guitar and singing to me over and over again. And think to myself- just. One. More.time.

I told my married sane friends about what happened, that he said he wanted to hate fuck me and date rape me. They were horrified. RUN. They said. Watch Star 80, she said. So that is where I am at now.

Star 80.

Hopefully this movie can knock some sense into me.


The movie was useless. It made me like Tommy more, in fact.

I must be as sick as he is.

Which is a frightening thought.

Today was intense.

He texted me all throughout the day. No respite from the constant barrage of his leaky thoughts. Codependent dysfunction junction.

I cried throughout the day while trying to stay compassionate and caring. I don’t want him to suffer. I don’t want me to suffer.

I just wish he was not such a jerk. Most of the time. If we are to be realistic.

He’s a boy. Not a man. And a pot addict with crazy addict behavior that makes me insane and is totally crazy making.

Great sex.

Amazing sex.

A psychic emotional spiritual connection? I thought that once. I wonder about it now.

He ran the gamut of emotions until it seemed he finally realized I was not moving towards reconciliation- but holding my ground. Barely, I might add. By a fucking thread. For sure.

Then he acquiesced and seemed to come to this really beautiful place that had me breaking down on my bathroom floor, silently screaming and sobbing, so as not to scare my daughter outside in the living room.

Then he switched gears again- and said he was going into an abyss of suffering.

That was the last I heard of him.

We had a plan to speak at 9pm. It is now 9:45pm.

I have not heard anything and he did not read my last text. I looked at his facebook profile and it looks like he took down our photo from his timeline- which I did the same thing. I think he realized I did that and was really hurt by it. I honestly did not think he would notice. His status said single. That hurt. But accurate, I suppose. I don’t put my status on things like facebook. I don’t even really like putting my relationship on there. Feels messy.

I feel bad about that.

But then I remember all the times he made me feel so shitty, and maybe it’s not so bad after all.

I always feel much stronger after hanging out with my girlfriends. They give me strength and clarity.

Not one of them, not one, thinks being with him is at all, a good idea.


In fact, everyone is concerned about me. Very concerned. They don’t get it. How I could allow this moron to have such a hold on me. What am I getting out of this that I can’t seem to let go of? I KNOW I am better than this! It feels strangely reminiscent of my relationship to alcohol. I feel powerless.

Maybe I AM a sex and love addict.


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