Dear little Sist-ah: thank you oh so much for picking me up at three forty-five in the morning on Saturday. It baffles my mind that you even made the comment “you didn’t seem that drunk” when I barely remember the ride home/making my way out to the couch in my underwears. Dear Energizer Bunny: you literally just keep going and going and going. Typically when one has been out drinking and dancing all night, they like to rest up for the following night with at least eight hours of sleep. You so kindly had me up within five, tossing and turning like a kid on Christmas morning. Dear Eryka: I like pickles. You know, the ones I really like I love.
Warning: this will be brutal. And I’m about to name names.
I sat here stewing in this chair for about twenty-four hours wondering how I was going to go about sharing this tidbit of my life. And I guess instead of sharing the entire story that unfolded yesterday, August ninth at about nine-thirty in the morning at my desk, I’ll just come out and say it: Joe, my boyfriend of about ten years, has been cheating on me since April. And by cheating I mean calling, texting, writing love notes, hanging out at camp, going to the movies and lastly FUCKING this girl; in which I will call Frienemy 641 for later reference. And by fucking, I mean unprotected. I mean in his bedroom where I’ve been spending the night recently. And by recently, I mean at least once a week.
This news came as a shock to some people in my life because A.) they had no idea that Joe and I have been communicating and B.) I swore on my life that he would never, ever, ever do this to me. I have been forgiving for a lot of the crap and lies that he has done to me over the past eight months, but this my friends and followers is unforgivable.
It’s difficult looking back to April and thinking, “how the hell did I miss this?” How did I not know that he was falling for another girl? How did my intuition not think to question this? And the answer is: because over the past ten years, I never had a reason to. To say that I’m shocked is an understatement. I’m devastated. I’m hurt. I’m very angry. And I’m disgusted that he didn’t have the courtesy to use protection; to not think about the consequences that this action may have on my health. It’s humiliating having to call my doctor requesting an STD test when months ago for my annual I admitted so happily that I’m still with this partner faithfully. Yes, technically we didn’t have the title of being boyfriend and girlfriend while working through our troubles, and I’m regretting the decision to assume that because we were still intimate, that we were still monogamous.
What disgusts me more is that people in his life, people that know me and our situation, knew what was happening and didn’t speak up. Regardless of how well I know you or the fact that things might be “screwed” up, I’m going to tell you if your spouse is cheating. I’m going to tell you if they are purposefully hiding you from others because of obvious reasons of you finding out. That’s where I’ve been– in hideout. Not allowed to see him on certain days/nights; only allowed to see him at my apartment or his house when no one’s around. People saw this and let me get played. All but one person. Frienemy 641.
Not who you would have thought, right? The girl who he was fucking got played herself, and realized this even more so yesterday when she accidentally friend requested me on the oh-so-popular media site. Things clicked for her when she saw photographs of the two of us together, the house of our dreams (that he brought her to), the balloon I had brought to him at the airport still floating in his bedroom. The facebook statuses, the song lyrics– she knew at that moment exactly what I had feared. And instead of keeping quiet, she told me. Everything. Some of it was disturbing to hear but exactly what I needed to fuel my courage to walk away… and never regret my decision to do so.
It’s sad to admit that this thought crossed my mind: I wish he had died. I only wish this because it would be so much easier to walk away from knowing that I gave it my all- now it’s I gave it my all, he took it, and threw it back in my face. Failed relationship: one. Jona: zero. I will continue to say that I am 100% in love with this guy. He was my high school sweetheart, my college partner and my first for many. I will continue to love him each and every day of my life, but I will not be able to express this to him on a daily basis. I will look back and continue to tell myself that I gave him all of me and if he wasn’t willing or wanting to accept that, I cannot blame myself for his actions. I will not blame myself for his actions. But I will be far more cautious in the future. I can’t help but be a skeptic- the one person I trusted with my life, let me fall when I made that leap of faith.
So where am I today? I’m a mess. I’m crying at my desk. I’m crying in my apartment. I’m sleeping in the bathtub wondering how the heck do I start over. I’m thankful that I do have the friends who are in my life who have made the effort to see me at the drop of a hat and just let me be me. I’m thankful that I don’t live in the Amsterdam area– gives me time to think about what I’m going to say to those who ignored me and the situation at hand. Nick who was up at camp and out at the Sandbar sharing drinks on wing night, Ryan who went on the cruise sharing stories about Joe’s recent hook-ups, Dave who went out for a few drinks at the Recovery Room. Why didn’t anyone ever alert me that Joe was bringing Frienemy 641 out instead of me? Did they ever ask him where I was? Did they ever joke about how much of a bitch I was to them? Because I was a bitch for obvious reasons now known- my intution was right about them from the moment I first met them. They aren’t friends at all- they are only looking for a good time. A friend would have stepped in to point out that woah, this decision you’re making is f*ed up.
I think I’ll leave ya’ll with a few photographs of us that were taken recently while in hiding and a quote I saw posted on a friend’s wall:
— Sex & The City
Joe knows I meant well.