So anyone who's read this thing at all realizes that it's more about me and my most recent lost love than about the voice in my head. And it's not funny either. Neither of these is what I intended, but in some ways, it's working for me. 

I had another epiphany about him this week. For some reason I have been thinking about him more than usual lately, and in the midst of one daydream where he's thrown her over and come back to me on his knees, I realized something: I couldn't take him back. No matter what he said or did, I couldn't do it.

I mean, on some level, I desperately want him back. I want what we had. But that's just it. I want what we HAD, not what we could have. I can't trust him anymore. I don't know him as I thought I did. I love him- I'll always love him, but if I can't trust him, how could I possibly ever have him back?

I guess this means my real problem is that my love is the enemy of my self-respect. 

Or maybe it means I've finally turned a corner and can begin to get over him. Because, I have to say, I'm not over him at all. I'm sitting here with fresh tears on my face. I had to leave the computer earlier this evening because the urge to message him when I saw that he was online just got to be too strong. 

I think I'll always mourn for what would have been. But that's what it is now- what would have been, not what can be. Because he broke his promises to me, and he pushed me out of his life, and I can never let him back into mine in that way. 

It doesn't matter that the sex was fantastic, or that he understood me so well, or that I could tell when his arm hurt from 50 miles away without talking to him. What matters is that he chose someone else over me, and he let her push me out of his life. He did this against my protestations, my predictions that it would happen, and he did this in the most insulting way possible- by comparing me to his abusive, schizophrenic ex-wife. 

I think the first step in my recovery, in moving him from the "love of my life" category to the "love lost" category, is admitting that he was in fact the one who made those decisions. Yes, she was bad. Yes, she probably manipulated him and told him lies about me. But ultimately, he made his own decisions. And he decided that he'd be better off without me. 

No matter how much it hurts, I've got to at least make the decision that I am okay without him. 

Easier said than done.