MaryB and the City

March madness.

Closing in on week two of my road to enlightenment aka a locally based reality show version of ABC’s The Bachelorette “most dramatic rose ceremony ever” – the aftermath ride so far has literally felt like a rollercoaster. One moment I’m sad with stomach-flipping twists, and the next I’m literally laughing [out loud] at the ridiculousness as more and more information ebb and flows my way.

The Kübler-Ross model, aka 5 stages of grief, is something I’m becoming intimately familiar with.

I feel intense anger – rage in fact, against Mr. Ex when I visualize his skull’s silhouette. And then suddenly, I take a deep breath forcing myself to remain conscious in the present moment…inhaling peace, and exhaling pity. You see, when someone is so self-destructive that they manage to single-handedly sabotage the pure *goodness & love* in their life, a certified masochist is the only reasonable explanation to comprehend such absurd actions. It is one thing to hurt yourself, but when you start barreling over other people who care for you, that is where the line has to be drawn.

What I continue to struggle with is how cold-hearted a person can be. Do people like that, have an actual, audible beat coming from their chest?

Down to every single layer of my epidermis, I’m full of compassion…so to try and fathom being calculated and conniving to another human being or any living creature for that matter is simply inconceivable to me. The guy played me for a fool, lied to me behind my back, put my health at jeopardy by sleeping with multiple women, led me to believe I was “the one”, but he can’t even give me an ounce of respect.

The one and only thing I asked him to do during our concluding conversation was to please send me my set of professional pictures back. I’ve yet to receive anything in the mail. Is that supposed to hurt me? But more importantly, why after all the damage he personally caused, would he even want to hurt me?

If that isn’t bad enough, the guy joined Match.com. Here’s the thing – in conversation a few months ago he jokingly said, “If this doesn’t work out between us, maybe I’ll just join Match” – knowing that I have been an on & off member during our breakups over the years. To which I responded, “Hell. No. That is my turf. You don’t get to go on The Match.” My reasoning was a) That’s just creepy to both be on the same dating site b) Most women on that site are looking for real, meaningful relationships & clearly he is not so that would be misleading c) He can meet girls all over town, that part isn’t his issue – so just let me have this one digital spot to date freely without a hovering Ex.

But once again, he can’t respect that wish either.

When I came across his dating profile last night, my initial reaction was a little bit like oil & vinegar. Heavy coated on the heart, but ultimately overpowered by the acidity. Whether his intentions are to try and hurt me, or haunt me, neither will penetrate my sound mind, or vivid memory.

I will continue down my steadfast road to recovery. The first appointment to weekly healing starts on Wednesday. In the meantime, Mrs. Clinical Licensed Counselor Lady has asked me to read a book [you know I like her already], that frankly — am surprised it isn’t already part of my makeshift library: Men Who Hate Women and the Women Who Love Them.

Yowzahs.