A moment of weakness...
Although me and “this guy” worked together, I pretty thoroughly ignored him for the next three months. Shortly after I broke it off with him I found out from a mutual acquaintance that he did indeed have a baby on the way…in fact, he probably had 2 babies on the way. I found out just how pregnant the second girl was...did the math…and realized that this guy had definitely slept with this other girl while we were together. That damn asshole cheated on me. I was more angry than I had ever been in my entire life and it kind of took me by surprise a little bit. I didn’t know where to put all the anger. I avoided him because I had no idea what might actually come out of my mouth if I ever spoke to him. Although I was as close to hating him as I thought I could get, I still hoped for some sort of peace or reconciliation…sometime in the future and didn’t want to mess up my chances of that.
I worked on trying to get rid of the hate and the anger. And coincidentally, it was right around the time that I was feeling like I was ready to let it all go that I hear from a friend that “this guy” is talking about how he must have really hurt me and he wants to make it all better and make it up to me somehow. He confronts me at work and we have our first conversation since I broke it off with him. I confront him with what I’ve heard and he admits to most of it. Surprisingly this does not make me more angry, it has the opposite effect and actually softens me towards him a little…not enough for me to go running back in his arms though. I tell him that I can’t remember the good times, that I can’t trust anything I thought we had together…because he lied. He fights to get back in my good graces…to no avail…for awhile. I finally agree to meet him for dinner a couple times and we continue to talk things out and address the past. I feel a little bit of that reconciliation that I was hoping for…and then it happens.
It’s over winter break and I’m feeling really lonely…feeling really sad…feeling like I just wish somebody would hold me. In a moment of weakness (and idiocy) I call this dude and ask him if I can come over. Of course he says yes and I make my way over there, telling him I want him to “just hold me” - so, naturally we decide that the best thing to do is lay in bed watching a scary movie. All through the movie I jump and scream and he squeezes me tight. It’s pretty late once the movie is done and although we had agreed that we weren’t going to do anything else he starts to make his move and I’m too tired to put up a fight. I end up spending the night…lying to my mom about where I am (for the first time in my entire life) and thinking that I’m probably going to regret it in the morning…only I DON’T regret it at all. I actually feel a little liberated…which was probably due to the fact that my conscience had now officially left the building. In lieu of my loss of faith, pretty much anything was acceptable and I didn’t feel guilty at all about spending the night with my ex-boyfriend…a guy who had cheated on me…a guy who never really knew how to treat me right…a guy who I knew wasn’t a good guy and certainly did not deserve my time, my energy, or my affection. At the time, all I cared about was the fact that he knew my body and I knew his. He knew how to hold me right and make me feel good. Things with him were comfortable and at a time when I felt like I needed to be held, it wasn't scary at all to ask him to hold me. I convinced myself that my heart was not involved in these late night rendezvous and therefore nobody (especially not me) would get hurt...
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