#NerdsUnite: Confessions of an Unwed Bride (Never go through a man's phone because you will find what you are looking for)
<editorsnote> Nerds, meet by buddy Julie! She's my roomie, we met on Craiglist, and she is 1,000 flavors of everything awesome sauce. The reason why she had a room in her apartment however is a mighty long story. See, Julie was dating a duderino for 8 years. Yep, they were engaged to be wed and all that snazzy jazzy stuff. Now the engagement is off and Julie is attempting to heal from her loss; these series of posts are her best attempt. HIT IT JULIE! </editorsnote>
#TalkNerdyToMeLover's @ItsMeJoolie
@ Angel's Knoll, downtown LACatch up on the story: read my reservations about writing out this story and here's Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V and Part VI of our ending.
I do not want to write this. Every piece of my soul does not want to revisit this right now. There are so many details that I've left out of this story. Heartbreaking details, little shitty things that he did to me or even good moments, like when I got home from Florida he came by the apartment unannounced, listening to the Cowboy Bebop soundtrack because he just had to see me. Some of these things I've pushed down and haven't thought about in some time. But uuuuuuuuuugh, here we go.
Mid January 2011
With my brother gone it was such an adjustment, being alone in my apartment. I can't even remember this time period, like at all. I do know that no matter how fucked up things were, the dude and I missed each other. How could we not? We'd been together for 7 years and lived together for most of those years.
We decided to go out on a date.
My ex had totally succumbed to Los Angeles btw. This was evident months and months ago but he was still very seduced by it. The money, the excitement, the fancy and the idea that he could finally afford a bit of it. That said, he took me out to a fancy pants place for dinner. He picked me up and I'm almost positive he didn't really care for my outfit. Poo, and I had tried, but winter dressing was still super hard for this Florida girl. I couldn't figure out how to look sexy in the winter time. Now, I get it, you just have to suffer and be cold. Anyhow, we go out to dinner and it's a fucking disaster. This was totally my fault. I couldn't NOT talk about our situation the whole entire time. I don't know what else I was supposed to discuss, I was a wreck.
Afterwards, it was so freaking weird. We went back to our friend's house where he was staying (her roommate had just moved out). He was sleeping on a blow up mattress. I spent the night there and it felt so good to have sex and to sleep next to him.
But then, I just couldn't help myself. Of course I couldn't. I was full on pycho at this point in the game, having been dicked around and lied to so much. He left the room to use the bathroom and without even the slightest hesitation, I picked up his phone. Oddly, I didn't go to the text messages between him and her but to the ones between him and a dear, mutual friend from college. BAM. On December 22 he texted him:
Sealed the deal.
That was the day after he had been at the SLS. So there it is. They finally did have sex. He actually hadn't been lying about that time when he accidentally got so drunk that he crashed at her house back in November. He waited until we were technically broken up. Uh, thanks? I guess. But it super hurt because the 21st was just two days after I left for Florida, when we'd had that great weekend together, when he had held my face in his hands and told me, "I think we are going to be okay."
He walked back into the room and I confronted him. I honestly do not remember whatever bullshit he said to me. But instead let's flash forward to when he finally admits what happened between them. We're in our living room and he's on the couch. He looks beyond uncomfortable, so uncomfortable that I know he is about to break my heart. I can tell he doesn't want to anymore, but he will. I grill him about that night. He tells me that she picked him up and she came inside. I flipped out here, "how can you even let her into our apartment?!". He said they split the dinner bill and that their intention for gong to dinner was to talk about how they could continue to work together and just be friends. "Bullshit! Who goes to The Bazaar at the fucking SLS hotel to talk about friendship?!?!"
Side note: I'm super pissed that the SLS is where all of this went down. They worked up in the Valley and they usually hung out there. But for this epic occasion they came down to my ex and I's hood. I yelled at him for the fact that I have to drive by that hotel all the fucking time (like every time I pick someone up from the airport). I used to cry when I would drive past it. Now I just look at it and think about how far I have come.
We get to the meat of the conversation. What happened afterwards. He claims they came back here and parked her car in our carport -and that in her car they went down on each other. He looked so upset. I stopped crying. Now I knew he was full of shit. Sure, that can happen. Two people could just go down on each other, buuuuut no. I look at him and tell him that. Finally, the truth comes out. I go back to balling. He swears up and down that they had sex in her car. To this fucking day he will NOT tell me where they had sex, really. Because we allllll fucking know that it was in my bed. ::shudders:: And we allllll fucking know that that hairclip was hers. Hence, my letter to her and all women.
Okay, so for a lot of you, the story would end here. You would be done, right? Fuck that guy, fuck this shit, kick him to the curb. But goddamnit, I was not about to let this stupid bitch steal my man from me, ruin my life and all that we had together. People will fuck up. You will fuck up. If you really love someone, fucking fight for them. Remind them that you love them. Now of course, there is a point when you do have to recognize if it's a losing battle, if they do not care, you have to weigh if it's worth saving. I was going to say I do and I don't take that lightly. Even with how torn his heart was, he didn't want to throw in the towel and have regrets either.
We both feel like we have to try and make it work. Try before we let go. 7 years together is a long time. Longer than most of you reading this can understand. It's not something you toss away, because relationships take work. And until you've been in one over 5 years you don't even know what that really means.
January 14-17
We decide that he will stay the weekend since we have Martin Luther King, Jr. day off. Some time together to see if we want to get back together and try to make it work. I was so nervous about this weekend and sooo looking forward to it. Haha, and of course, he got sick, so it wasn't as great as it could have been. One of his favorites movies off all time is 500 Days of Summer and he was watching it very often during this period. I thought that going on the 500 Days of Summer downtown LA tour would be a great way to spend some time together. Oh, it was. It was so nice. We had a really good time.
That was Monday. On Thursday, he moves back in.
Up next: I fight for my fiance, my life; go crazy fighting and lose anyways.
#nerdsunite
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