of antidepressants, so far it seems to be doing the trick.
I've got a lot more motivation for domestic work,
and I'm less sleepy. Since Thursday, I've been more
over L.O. than I ever expected. Life's looking good,
and not just because of the fake high of 'falling in love'.
back in April/May/early June 2010, the whole world shone.
It was a time of great optimism and confidence that things
were going to go well. I hope I can enjoy this Spring and
Summer MORE - and GENUINELY.
He's done with, it was false. I know that the Fantasy Man
and the victim of stalkery were not the same person.
If my mood's lifted by MOAR PILLZ, I have a better chance
of sorting out my real-life problems.
Maybe L.O. did think he was helping...
but by being my only source of Joy at the time, and...
Oh bugger this, I'm going to do something useful.
He can keep his games and stick them.
He knows what he did, and if he doesn't remember, bollocks to him.
If he does remember, bigger bollocks to him.
If he was as screwed up as I was, I'm sorry.
It's done - he's no part of my life now. I just wish Fantasy Man
would be somebody else... I'm mentally haunted by a fake.
He's just a tar-baby.
Yet, in conflict with my wish above,
- I don't want to wish for another fantasy - death and danger
live in those realms... I feel like the mental construct protects
me from getting limerency for others, but... it's a risk that L.O.
can easily fuck me up again if that's his desire -
my psychological firewalls are unfortunately set to allow
his passage, barring others.
me from getting limerency for others, but... it's a risk that L.O.
can easily fuck me up again if that's his desire -
my psychological firewalls are unfortunately set to allow
his passage, barring others.
He's not coming, not even 'pinging' my systems.
He's being kind by leaving me alone to leave him alone.
Kind to himself, too.
I can't understand how he thought the game was worth the price -
I imagined that his kindliness in the face of peer pressure and
spousal complaints demonstrated the strength and reality of our
luuuurve connection. What a crock of shit! I was so, so deluded,
and he repeatedly said I wasn't. Ha.
spousal complaints demonstrated the strength and reality of our
luuuurve connection. What a crock of shit! I was so, so deluded,
and he repeatedly said I wasn't. Ha.
Facing reality is hard, and I am the fixer. Not husband,
not L.O., not friends - ME - I must do what I can.
Dreaming of chocolate eyes smiling just wastes my time.
I wonder if he has a new favourite yet?
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