Say WHAT?

"We filled your head with wild ideas,
Our beliefs led you on.
We leave a trail that's always changed
To keep your hopes alive.
This surface may seem calm enough,
But underneath, underneath,
We made you feel the way you are is wrong."

-- Dream Thrum, James



Last night I was messing around with the links I very occasionally update for this thing that resembles a web site... and I came across a blog listed in another blogroll about internet dating. In Pittsburgh. It was pretty cute, had lots of anecdotes about different people's experiences. It went on a lot about Match.com: "Everyone is on it!" As if it were Facebook or MySpace. A whole lot curious, I checked it out.

It didn't take many keystrokes for me to figure out how it worked. And it didn't take me many more keystrokes to find this:


That's um.... my Tom.

It took me I-don't-know-how-long to figure out what I was actually looking at. But.... that's the guy who told me he wasn't ready for a relationship. The guy who still emails me and tells me he misses me and loves me so. Who tells me his kids aren't ready for him to date, but don't wait for him. The guy who wants to meet up at Chuck E Cheese and let the kids hang out.

On a dating web site. And photos he posted to it included ones he took for me while we were together.

So while I'm sitting around here for weeks living like a recluse, moping, mourning the loss of my precious relationship, thinking this guy and I love each other so much but we can't be together, I suddenly realize that he has been feeding me a fuckload of bullshit.

It was kind of natural for me, I think, upon learning this, to want to KICK THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF THE NEXT MAN WHO CROSSED MY PATH. I was feeling rather charged up.

So, I called him. He lied a little more, hedged, dodged, then finally said, "I'm so embarrassed. I didn't want to hurt you. But I never really loved you."

Why did he say it then? Why did he bathe my son and cuddle with my daughter? Why did he talk about which school district we'd live in? Why did he talk about rings and a wedding and let me bond with his family?

Either something's not adding up, or I'm way too livid to think straight. Either way, I wrote a nasty email and sat on it for a few hours. I called Aimee, who has always been a kind of I-am-woman-hear-me-roar kind of girl, told her my story, and she said, "Send the email. Who cares if he doesn't care, it will help you feel better."

I hit send. After I respectfully deleted the line about the crappy sex.

And now I am going to put this behind me, let it go, not speculate on how much of our relationship was a complete lie, say goodbye to The Best Boyfriend Ever and celebrate that I didn't waste any more time with The Man With Jelly For A Backbone.