One More Letter from the Pizza Delivery Boyfriend: "The Dumpy Sad Ex-Boyfriend"

I'm going to write a post tonight or tomorrow about my ex-boyfriend, "Evan", who has been sending me sad emails. As a preview: he was hired as a delivery driver at Pizza Hut where I worked in 2011 as an assistant manager. Same age as me (at the time, 27-28). I left my husband of ten years (together ten years, but married at 7) to be with him in October. Told him I loved him two weeks later; he told me not to use those words. I broke up with him. He wanted me back. I cheated on him. He wanted me back. I broke up with him. He wanted me back. I cheated on him. He wanted me back. Ad infinitum, until December 2012 - I broke up with him and it didn't matter that he wanted me back. I didn't go back to him until July 2013 (in December I wanted to be alone and recover, but kept getting into relationships; finally I wanted him back because he was "better" than all the other guys I'd been with - I loved him more, and he was a better lover, I mean). Broke up with him again in August 2013 to be with someone else, again. Broke up with that guy and went back to Evan, who had planned a 3-month trip to Canada with his best friend/novelist John (Evan's an artist - he was gonna paint) while we were broken up the last time. I wanted him to stay; he wanted to go. He left. I realized it was for the best and I didn't want him any more and decided to be with someone else. That's all a bunch of crap but it catches you up.

That guy (#27: The Propane Truck Driver) had sex with me and told me he had herpes. I realized I didn't want to be with any one any more because I didn't like who/what I'd become, plus, I probably had herpes, for all I knew (have been tested lots since; don't have it). But I saw it as a gift from God (choirs of angels singing). Entered sex/love addiction recovery very seriously on October 16, 2013. Relapsed November 21 after the woman who brought me into recovery (Margaret) killed herself and a guy at a concert who'd scored a film he'd created about a guy committing suicide asked me for my number when I went up to talk to him about it. He asked me out on a date and we had sex even though I told him I didn't want to have sex until marriage after what I'd been through the last two years and that I might have herpes. I kept seeing him through December 9 even though I knew I needed to get back to recovery and being alone (me = selfish; he had a lot to offer).

Now it's December 11. I'm on Day 2 again of recovery (I had made it all the way to Day 42 the first time) after adding another name to the list (I'm sorry, "James"; I really am), and I'm going for no less than 90 this time. Ideally, I'd actually rather not date or get into a relationship until either my divorce is final (I filed two years ago now - waiting on him, though), or until I reconcile with my husband (not sure which will be the case - not even sure which one I want). (James didn't like the fact that I wasn't divorced, and it hit me - duh).

So right now, I'm just rooting for me - I get to recover now. Grow up. When most women are "bachelorettes" and "coming of age" between 18-24, I was with my husband. I never got that period of being alone and coming into my own Being. So now I am, at 30.

I'm also continuing on with my relationship inventory, which I'm posting here on this blog. It's part of my healing process. And I plan on using some of it, eventually, for a memoir that I'd like to publish in 2 to 5 years (probably closer to 5, so I can make it really, really good). For now, it's scattered, not continuous/congruous/cohesive/coherent (in many places). Leaving things out. Just gathering information, facts, thoughts, feelings. Focusing on relationships. Need to read more memoirs for examples (like Mary Karr's - I had stopped reading when Margaret died....time to get back on the horse).

I have posted a few of these emails from Evan as I prepare to write about him (he's #1: The Pizza Delivery Boyfriend). (I don't mean to dehumanize them with nick-names. Rather, one of the main points of this inventory is to see where I've hurt people. But their names - like Evan, James, Bruce, Ronnie - those are all made up any way, so the descriptors actually make it easier for me to remember who they were. Sad, I know.) So here's his latest email; he keeps reminding me how much I hurt him, and it's good, in a way (although after this one, I plan to block them, since I'm powerless not to respond and I keep making myself late for work, since he writes after 2:00 am I get them in the morning).

I had asked Evan to stop trying to suck me into his vortex - I'd heard that phrase somewhere and wanted to use it - so that's why he begins this way:

Sllllluuuuuurrrrrrrp!  I'm trying hard to be an un-vortex.  Part of me wants you to be happy, part of me wants to have you, and still another part wants you to feel the pain that I feel because you've shown what my love is worth.. and its embarrassing to have to realize it isn't much.  I wish I was a more lovable person and that I inspired loyalty, but I don't think I'm that kind of person and knowing thyself is part of transcendence.  I always wanted to have my own family to look after since I was young.  I thought loyalty and honesty were the things a family man had to have and I guess I just see that as silly now looking at ours and other past relationships.  I don't know who else to express these things too.  If they bring you down a little... good.  Filling your life with nothing but positive people and places is a fools errand.. not being affected by the negative I think is the secret. 

Anyhow I'm not always negative.  I don't think others would put up with me as long as they have if that were true.  I think because you've now lapped me in terms of dating that it puts me in a different class... Like I can't keep up.  I'm not good enough for you.  I know you say its the spiritual churchiness I lack and the income, but if I was a quiet churchgoer with a pad I still think you would think yourself in a different class because of how many men you've had at your fingertips over the past few years with no 500 pound gorilla in the room to scare them off.  We skinny boys can seduce a whole lot of women but its the strong scary ones that keep them more often than not.  I really think that is what rolls across your mind when you roll your eyes at my sad messages.  I'll stop bumming you out soon enough.  I don't keep too many friends, dove, and I keep the ones I have for a long time.  So when you just move on past me because I take off (for a damn good reason) I'm still wanting to talk about my problems with you... only YOU is the problem.

So anyway... I jut smoked a shit ton of weed and laughed with a couple Canucks for the past 5 hours... So I'm not getting great sex with someone utterly new and fascinating who is fascinated with me while working a dream job and hanging out with a cool kid... I still know how to have a good time.  If your dumpy sad ex-boyfriend sends you the occasional depressing email what's it to you.  Just don't respond or be a total asshole until I run off like in "White Fang" with Ethan Hawk and that wolf-dog.