I became increasingly frustrated with our relationship. We argued about everything it seemed. Although he tried to smooth things over by celebrating my birthday with me and buying me things, we always came back to the same sticking point, his selfishness. In one of our conversations he asked me, “What are YOU going to do to keep ME from cheating?” One would think that after all he had gone through in that short span of time, cheating would be the last thing on his mind.
After I stopped screaming in my head, I was able to calmly say, “I’m not going to do anything. Cheating is a choice. Of course, if you felt that what I was doing wasn’t enough, I would hope that you would tell me, upfront, that you wanted to be with someone else so that we could just end it there.”
That wasn’t the end of the conversation. We would come back to it in other arguments. In between, we tried to put on a good face in public when we went out to friends’ parties or if I was at his gigs. I’m not sure who we were trying to save face for, them or ourselves, but we put on quite the show. Not to say we were always unhappy, but the tension between us lay just beneath surface. It was only a matter of time before one of us snapped.
I attended his show the day before I had to drive to Miami for my sister’s funeral. A few nights before, he had come over and entertained my girls while I packed our bags. When he was on stage at his performance, we would catch each other’s eye every so often. On his breaks, he was very attentive and wanted to hold my hand and kiss. When I got ready to leave, he held me so long someone yelled that we needed to get a room. It reminded me of how we used to be at Zona’s when he performed there, before things got so crazy. The next day he called me every hour while I was driving those 10 hours to make sure I was ok. It felt good and I was able to relax a little until we discussed the night before and he told me he was so affectionate because his ex, my nemesis, was there and he was trying to make a past incident we all had right. I felt like once again he had pulled the rug out from under me and tainted something that actually felt good for me and could have been good for us.
I spent the week trying to figure out how to tell him it was over and each time I talked myself out of it. I had decided that it wasn’t a good time to make decisions. I was tired, stressed and emotional so I just needed to hold off on saying anything.
But I did say things out of anger or frustration. I would tell him that he was immature, selfish, lacking in emotional intelligence or as shallow as a cesspool. I told him I had a hard time picturing myself with someone who was lazy and spent most of his time watching TV, or on YouTube drinking every night. I needed someone with goals and a plan I could get behind and support.
We argued about him not using his skymiles to fly me to NYC for Valentine’s Day to be with him while he worked there that week. I could no longer afford to pay for my own ticket because I had to fly my son from school to Miami for the funeral. He didn’t want to use his miles because he thought it might jeopardize his precious gold status and his guitars would have to go in the undercarriage as opposed to the overhead bin. It was the same story, different year. So when we did celebrate Valentine’s Day the week after, the night was tense. I could tell he was upset, but he wasn’t really talking. When he did speak, it was to comment on the women walking through the door of the restaurant, or to make some comment about how I needed to be butt-naked the next time I came to his house. The references to me being naked or wearing heels and a t-shirt when I saw him were on my last nerve. After enduring the after dinner silent treatment, I asked him to take me home.
It took me being convicted by my own words from a previous blog post and a sermon at church to make me finally confront what I was avoiding. I recognized that I was not being fair to myself or to him, so I shared the blog with him. He questioned if I really thought such a man existed, and if he did why wasn’t I with him. I countered that I did think he was out there. I saw examples every day within my family and circle of friends, but I hadn’t met the guy or if I did I hadn’t noticed because I had been involved with him in some form or fashion for the last six years.
Days later I was at church and the sermon was about keeping it moving towards your destiny, remaining obedient, walking by faith and trusting God even when you don’t know the outcome. I knew right then I had to end this relationship. I wasn’t in it for the right reasons. I was in it because of ego, comfort and lack of faith. And I certainly wasn’t being obedient. I was acting in desperation.
After church I went to his house so we could talk, honestly talk, about what we knew to be true, but were afraid to admit. We were not working as a couple. He did not take too kindly to me showing up without calling. I knew he would just be getting up. I wasn't wrong. He thought I was trying to catch him with another woman; that wasn’t even a thought. I also knew that if I didn’t go right then, I would talk myself out of doing what I knew I should.
We went round for round, but I told him how I felt. I wasn’t happy and I just didn’t want to argue any more. I thought we needed to work on developing intimacy outside of the bedroom, but he wanted sex and his constant asking made me feel more like an object than like a person. He thought I should have been able to compartmentalize my hurt and feelings of betrayal and wear the heels and t-shirt or be naked so that he “could feel like a man again”. I took a deep sigh and gave up the argument.
He thanked me for telling him in person as opposed to text or email and held his fist out for a fist bump. I was outdone. I reiterated my feelings on his immaturity and lack of humility and left. What else could be said?
IX
