THE END. OF TOMMY. FINALLY.

I was driving home from running a very powerful and meaningful circle with students at a high school in Burbank and was thinking of how when Tommy respects my boundaries and does not contact me it feels like love. It is a very lovely feeling.

Then I got home, and he sent a text- asking how long the “no contact” was for. He knows. Then he said that with all due respect, (although he spelled due – do) he just missed my voice. I saw clearly that it was not respectful of him to completely ignore my boundary. All my happy feelings towards him faded. The hormonal haze is lifting. My feet are planted firmly on the ground again. I am connecting with Great Spirit every day and in every way. I went to a SLAA meeting yesterday that did not resonate. I just don’t buy the theory that “addiction is a disease” it is so clearly a strategy to avoid pain and to achieve connection. My brain is not diseased. My brain has created synapses that fire in a rut based on traumatic early childhood attachment or lack thereof and subsequent failures at finding secure, stable people. My ex-husband was cold. Tommy is abusive. They are both abusive in different ways. My ex and his ex. Jesus. I never allowed myself to fully grieve that. Well, I am now. I unfriended all his women the other day on FB. That felt amazing. To be honest. I want to distance myself as much as possible from my ex’s ex-girlfriend and his current one. I want my own life.

I need to publish the familial piece about being raped when I was 13. I need to write more. Make that a priority in my life. For my sanity. I gave a young girl the expressive writing challenge last night because she was so triggered from the ancestors council that when I asked them to tell a story about a time when one of the people they mentioned either saw them or didn’t, she did not stop crying and did not share a story or her writing. I checked in with her afterwards and helped her find a resource – being in her bed with her tootsie roll pillow. Then I emailed her the directions. Man. I hope it helps. We’ll see. I just don’t want to retraumatize her. That is the last thing she needs. And I reminded the group that she was struggling as I left. They are a tribe now, they need to look out for each other.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Tommy came over last night. I wanted to see him. I was craving his touch. I was incredibly attracted to him in my head all day, but when I drove up and saw him, I had nothing in the tank. It was a strange night. He couldn’t get it up or keep it up. Nothing is more disappointing than that. I made a plan to go up on Saturday. Now I am having anxiety attacks about it. I want to see him and I don’t want to see him. I want a vacation from LA and I want him to be a different person. Talking about it helps me. No one knows. I have not told anyone. I don’t want anyone’s opinions.

I am ashamed that I am still seeing him and I don’t know how to stop.

He called me the Friday before I was meant to go up and see his new place and said he had an issue with something I had “liked” on Facebook. It was a series of oil paintings my friend posted of famous actors giving cunilingus. All you saw was the POV of the woman and they were HYSTERICAL! I joked on my friend’s site that the one of Ryan Gossling got me all like… And the friend that posted this is my dear friend and meditation teacher. He called me not five minutes after I liked it- so that was eery and creepy- and he proceeded to tell me that he thinks my friend is “gross” because she talks about sex in an open way. I told him she is writing a book! And if he thinks she is gross, we are so clearly NOT compatible. He agreed. We hung up. I thought that was that. It was too ridiculous not to be.

Then came Saturday. He texted me that we owed it to each other to have a more intimate good-bye. A more personal one. A better one. Not on the phone. But in person.

I agreed.

I. AGREED.

I wanted to see his place, I told myself. I wanted to get out of LA. I told myself. I wanted sensations. Is what the truth is. I wanted to get high off of being wanted. So I drove to Santa Barbara around 5pm and we immediately went to sushi where the waiter spilled water all over us. Then this couple that he knew sat down WITH us just as we were about to get into a really lovely break-up conversation and proceeded to hijack our dinner telling us how they met thirty years ago in Germany, they had this indelible love affair, and now, are finally back together again and even had a layout photo of them side by side then and now- just like Tommy and I had. When they asked about us, we just told them we were the same. Neither of us had the energy to tell them we were having a break up dinenr that they just crashed.

When we got back to his house we had sex. First thing. It was okay. Same ole. And after about an hour, I felt this strong urge to leave. I just knew I had to get up and drive home, I feared that if I stayed the night, the cycle would just repeat itself over and over again. I had to do something different. So I left. He wept. On me. I wept. But I still left. I got home late. I went to bed.

The next day I felt pangs of regret for not staying. It was a rainy day and the thought of snuggling with him in the morning was overbearing. I have never felt so fucked up and confused in my whole life about a person.

I texted him that. He was angry with me. For sure.

I left it at that. I still wanted him. To want me. I think. I find it so hard to let that piece go. Of being wanted and desired by someone. A childhood of being forgotten, abandoned, and ignored. Of feeling invisible. Of being a burden. THIS is what that looks like as an adult working it through. THIS MUST CHANGE.

Monday night- Halloween- I went out trick-or-treating with my ex and our daughter. Tommy sure had an issue with that! Said he was tired of my threesome with my ex.

Why can’t I walk away from this asshole???? I am a smart and capable woman. What is happening?? I feel sick inside.

I called him when I got home around 8pm and he decided to drive down- sort of without my okay- but anyway- showed up at 11pm. We had sex. I could smell and taste the cigarettes and they grossed me out. He is having trouble maintaining an erection after the first time. It’s a HUGE bummer. Whoa. In the morning we had sex again and he stayed later than usual – we went to breakfast- at breakfast he told me how he thinks the Native Americans have a victim mentality with the pipeline thing. I talked to him about white male privilege. I left feeling dirty and gross.

I went to therapy. Realized I have all these sides of myself and I can’t ignore any of them. I need a council with myself.

Then I had lunch with a friend I met at the Aya ceremony – and she was like the voice of reason- she had been through a similar thing and told me in no uncertain terms that there was no good that was going to come out of this. I needed to end it and block him. Her intensity inspired me. I texted him later- as I was waning from our pipeline conversation- and told him it was not going to work. I had no intention of a long term future with him at this time and was addicted to his attention, affection, and drama and it needed to stop. I was sorry.

He didn’t like it but he allowed it to happen and his last text seemed sweet and thoughtful.

I have not heard from him since.

I found out my step-father, the lascivious abusive one that I have not spoken to or heard from in decades passed away from pancreatic cancer Halloween night. The last night I saw Tommy. Tommy, who reminds me of my step-father.

I took a big rock and painted their names on either side- Tommy/Bob. I took this giant rock and buried it in my backyard. Burying them both. Out of my life and into the earth. She knows how to handle these kinds of men better than me.

 

The next day I went out back where I buried the rock- a raccoon had dug it up- it was sitting on top of the dirt with the Tommy side up.

Creepy.

I buried it again.

Tommy showed up at my house last Wednesday night without warning. I was not here but my daughter was with her new babysitter who happens to be a male of about 26 years old.

I only know he was here because he left a plant on my front steps. A fucking OLIVE plant. Then he texted me and told me he did that. I thanked him. Dumb, I know.

I was scared the entire night that he would return. He sent me some long text telling me how he was not done with me but he knew he had to “allow” me to have other lovers. I was like, WTF is he talking about? Done with me? Allowing me?

Seriously fucked up.

Then he sent another text the next night telling me that he did indeed try to enter my house but saw my daughter playing with a man and realized it was not his place anymore. So he quietly shut the patio gate and left. He realized I had “moved on” and he wished me well.

I told him that was absolutely not okay and if he ever showed up like that here again I would call the police.

I felt scared. Vulnerable. With Trump and now this?

 

Tommy keeps texting. I feel numb. I am not responding. But I have not blocked him. Not yet.

 

 

 

He sent an email:

Dearest,

I have some things to say to you to get clear and clean.
This morning I was in a reiki healing meditation that helped to let go of what I was holding onto.

First of all, I feel in this moment that I have a debt with you to pay off, yet this debt does not involve saying sorry or apologizing for my behavior or even acknowledging what an ass I was to you at times and how I rejected your love and care, and repeated attempts to reach out to me during a time in which I was in full blown ego mode. It does not involve feeling guilty or shameful for my actions or the way I was, or apologizing for being spiritually arrogant. This debt, does however, involve my taking responsibility for my anger, resentment and inability to be within myself with you at a time when our relationship was sooo tender and raw and ripe to flower into a beautiful, flowing, lovely occurrence.

If I could do it over, or go back in time, I would have treated you in the exact same way; disrespectful, judgemental, condescending and cruel. I would not change any of that, for that was exactly where my consciousness was in that moment and time. I would not change the heartbreak, the failed hopes and dreams, the sorrow, the irritation. I would not, and could not change any of that, for I confess that in those moments I was, in no way, able to see your beauty, share your beauty and recognize your beauty. I would not change showing up at your house a flaming addict, getting high first thing in the morning on your porch, craving your cunt, your lips, your body next to mine, your mind, your womanhood. I would not change any of that. The space of regret, loss, foolishness I will not enter in this moment, so therefore I am not wishing for any of it to change or be different than it was. In that time period I was not conscious enough to find a supportive way with you and your situation. I was not clear, kind nor strong enough to use my rational words, underlying my deep emotion and passion.

So thus, the debt I have to pay off with you is letting you know that everything you went through with me, I meant it. I meant fully to mistreat you, put you down in front of pony, argue with you about co-dependence with Tim, and to control the way I saw you living your life. I meant every single moment of this. I had no choice but to treat you in this way because it was the reflection and the energy that I was giving off at that time. I meant completely to lift you up with visions of a beautiful future and travel and co- habitation and then turn right around, into a grinch, and put you down the next day. I meant to judge you for the way you spend your $ and time and I certainly meant to make you feel bad or poorly about that.

And, as previously mentioned, I would not change any of that. I’m not sitting on a pity pile of missed opportunities or should of, would of, could of thoughts giving myself and you more pain and confusion. So there is no way I can go back and change any of that nor do I want to. I’m responsible for all of that and I’m responsible for understanding that, in those moments I was acting from my highest self, horrible at times, and totally hellish, but highest indeed at that time. I was capable of only that in those moments. I don’t want your forgiveness, nor pardon, for that was the exact place where I was in that time and that was the exact energy that I was giving out. That was the data I had received and was only able to receive. There are no excuses and no reasons to share

from the past, although they are there. And it was a perfect match for your reception.

I am not in that place anymore and am in a different place, giving out a much different vibration. I am able to receive, now, that which I was not able to receive before. I am able to receive love and give it in return. That is my consciousness and in this moment the past has only a value to me as a continuation into this present moment. I’m done with beating up on myself for not knowing everything then what I know now. Thank you, thank you thank you for the expansion into a new place and the contrast which brought me here. I thank myself for the expansion and the contrast, too! We provided each other with this to grow and expand.

I am working and striving each moment of everyday to be conscious and grateful for this growth, because I want to see the beauty in you that I know was there that I could not see then, because of where I was. And I see it.

That is my debt I am paying off with you and myself.

In honesty and healing. Thomas.

Ps. I would love to be able to sit in silence with you on retreat. It would be honorous.

Sent from my iPhone

I blocked him after that.

Then last night he texted me (I had unblocked him, why?I know.)

He wanted to know if we would ever speak again. So I finally relented and sent this email:

The last email you sent me was so deeply upsetting and offensive that I have no desire left in me to be in contact with you. I don’t think I can be any clearer than that. I hope you get the help you need.  I am done. I’ve got nothing left. I have no need to see you or to clarify anything. I am clear. 

 

The best you can do for me at this point is to leave me alone. 

AND OF COURSE, HE RESPONDED:

I don’t want to leave in hurt.  Arrowyn. May you go in peace.  All your arrows and jabs at me are the same world you see.  

It does hurt not to be loving. You are correct. 

You are free…

My body is revolting. Years of “being loving” to men when I really needed to be clear and direct has contorted and twisted my insides and it’s all coming out. Literally. Hemmorhoids. Ear infections. Back pain. Exhaustion. Brain fog.

 

 

 

 

I am afraid that if I stop responding, he will finally go away, for good, and then I will be invisible, and then I will die.

But I am supposed to see me. Not be invisible to me.

I don’t know how to see me.

Can someone show me? How do you do that? How? Precisely.

American Honey.

Shia Lebouf.

I know his brand of crazy. Only too well. It is familiar. I fear the unfamiliar.

My life is good without him in it. Good enough. He was unkind and unattractive.

Maybe if he was still hot. But he’s not.

 

I wanted him to be kind. I wanted him to save me, like Lancelot on his great white horse, to be “the one,” to give me that incredible romantic love story for the ages.

And I am so grateful he was none of those things.

Because I need to save myself, I am the one I have been searching for, and falling in love with myself is the greatest love story of all.

 

 

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