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.

A video from the Husband to Me and the Pizza Delivery Boyfriend: "Scars/To The New Boyfriend" by Rudy Francisco

If the video doesn't work, click here.

Another Letter from the Pizza Delivery Boyfriend: "The Fukmygirlfriend Disaster"

Click for soundtrack.

Here I go at 3:15.  I read more of course... and my stomach hurt of course.  Just bored and going a bit nuts I guess.  Jealous of your ability to find sex partners in part and disgusted in part, but mostly a feeling of obsoleteness and a kind of peace that maybe a terminally ill person could get knowing they must have HIV or some terrible exposure from the 'Fukishima Disaster' or the 'Fukmygirlfriend Disaster'. 

Knowing more and more what kind of men excite you I start to understand myself as just a filler, a step stone kind of like Bruce but a step up in the sack.  You are the best liar and flatterer I've known besides maybe my father (thank our lord and savior he's in Baltimore or you might have slept with him too... he's a man's man kind of type... just a bit old... and a nasty case of herpes). I think I learned a lot about what I need to change to have a woman to keep... to have and to hold and to bear my children... one with a suitable sex drive that won't fatten up so I have to divorce her anyway.

I need a job that doesn't require promotion for increased reward because men see me like you do as an unfortunate perma-boy toy not fit for responsibility.  Too old now for promotion anyway.  My God the most humiliating thing in your diatribes and ruminations is I'm barely mentioned except for as a side note... with all the time I spent with you while we were together.  That is how I am seen in the workforce.  You only had childcare duty for me while out looking for a more equipped tool.  Some instinct inside you must have known I was trustworthy and competent enough for the grunt work while you went out looking for real men who have important-big-dick activities to do like manage people instead of watching toddlers.  I need to own a place a bit off the grid so my special girl won't be socializing with other men while I'm off working to support her ass... no apartment complexes.  She doesn't laugh like a whore at other men's jokes... hopefully she works at a job with mostly other women and queers so she isn't being constantly chipped away by real men with more money and bigger cocks.  Maybe she works with kids and she definitely doesn't belong to groups with all kinds of fucked up narcissistic horny loud men that coach each other on how not to die from drinking... or other groups that I'm not a part of and never will be.   How about a book club or a guild instead of brainwashing factories and cheap therapy.    In fact she shouldn't be socializing with any men that earn more... (that's everyone) or have bigger biceps, stronger backs and of course fatter, harder hogs (just about everyone). 

I don't think you would have married Jesus before 30... Skinny.  Good talker and listener.  Compassionate. Probably a tender kisser because he's a bit feminine and delicate with artists hands.  A bit of a know-it-all and a philosopher (he is the son of God).  Witty and slender... stern and convicted.  A simple man.  A carpenter.  A rambler.  Average dick that he does his best with only when he's in love.  Loves his "Virgin" mother.  Not reaching his potential or ambitions until late in life... So boring that they don't even talk about him until he walks out of the wilderness at age 30 having conquered temptations of flesh and power, and yet still so easy to be around.  Laid back and forgiving.  Nearly free of ego.  Scared to death to leave his nepotism and face an unforgiving world only armed with truth and no unconditional love to fall back on... just love worn raw.  None of those things seem to match any of the men you write about.  Obsess about.  Men like me that are more Christ-like than the ones you get wet to.  You definitely would have at least tried to sleep with him when he started getting notorious, but he probably would have turned you down or not been as good a lay as the last guy you screwed who was the center of attention.  Oh-well maybe if you try them all you'll find the right one.  Anyway that's off track and a bit low for someone as Christ-like as myself.  I'm sure God will present me with a path to that reality before I melt away into dust... just do one thing and let me know if you caught anything nasty from these sexy men who spread their seed with such perfection.  Knowing what diseases I might carry from you makes my path more clear in a morbid sense.  And you certainly owe me that courtesy.

Okay so maybe I'm too petty to be Christ-like, but I definitely am more so than the 28 you've Loved.  At least Jesus [?] before age 30.  Even my hair and beard are becoming more Christ-like... I masturbate and watch porn less and less because its cold and all those sluts just remind me of you and the guys they fuck are just like the ones you forget me for.  Thank you for helping me quell that nasty habit before I developed arthritis in my painting hand.  Less attachment to worldly things unfortunately makes us less interested in being in this world... I think I always had you beat in that department, but it certainly can lead to destruction like it did Christ.  You're too materialistic to destroy yourself fully.  There's always a better human being around the corner to love you down or maybe you can fix others who don't know how badly you've hurt lesser people.  Like a meat market.  Just don't wind up a money-changer in his Church... He REALLY doesn't like that.  Christ is merely a man for whom truth became more important than life.  Simply know thyself and to thyself be true.   People saw that and sent shock waves throughout history.  It left a perfect scar in all of us so even the non-believers can't help but revere his sacrifice. 

If you test positive for anything let me know.  I'm too cowardly to check myself.

I'll be trying not to fantasize about you coming out in those shorts while I was shadow boxing with your son.  Fuck my brain.

A Letter from My Higher Power

After Margaret killed herself and I endured the most excruciating pain in my life, I thought that, suddenly, I had become empathic. Suddenly I cared about people. It only lasted a week.

A week after she died, a guy asked me for my number, we went on a date, had sex, and all of a sudden I forgot what pain felt like.

I'm in a strange limbo, now. Do I want the pain back, or not? I've noticed that I've lost all empathy for my fellows. I sent an ex-boyfriend a link to my blog in response to his entreating, because, for some reason, I thought he should "know the truth." I thought that would be easier than just turning him down again. Well, easier for me, sure...but not for him.

He sent me a suicide email. I responded to that email with angry, high-and-mighty how-dare-you-after-what-I've-just-been-through tirades, and he sent me a new suicide email with a 5-year expiration date this time. I sent him more how-dare-yous. He responded with his own how-dare-you, and I responded with, "Eh, I stopped at 'how dare you.' It's just not even worth it. Lates, homes."

Where did my caring go? Am I just that numb that my ex could kill himself, and I'd just be all, "Been there, done that...whatevs."?

I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do from here. I just told one of my best friends that I'd gotten a suicide email from my ex after I sent him a link to my blog, expecting her to be on my side. Big surprise. She had to hang up, she was so disgusted with me. I upset her, big time.

I thought, "Whoa, is that what I'm supposed to be like? Like...care?" (Somehow I saw myself as the victim in this suicide email scenario.)

I know that if I stop dating this guy (who is now willing to not have sex until marriage, so it's so hard to say "no" to him now...he wants to take me to a play in Coronado tomorrow night)...I'll be a better person. But right now...I'm in "relapse mode".

[Time lapse]

Okay, I just got off the phone with my sponsor. I did cry, real tears, so that's good. And I feel pain again. She recognized that I'm creating wreckage, so she gave me this assignment: "Adora, I want you to write, right now, a letter to you from your higher power. What would God say to you about Margo, about this guy you're dating, about your ex? Then I want you to call me back and read it to me." I love my sponsor. She always reminds me about the ol' HP.

So, here goes:

Dear Adora (that's not your real name, but I'll humor you here),

Stop. Look up. Listen.

I gave you Margo so you could heal. I placed her right in front of you when you needed someone most. When you started recovering, though, you left her behind. You stopped spending time with her. You stopped helping her. You weren't doing My Will. So I took her away so you could feel, so you could learn to be there for others. I wanted you to experience real pain and sadness, and come through the other side of it with the true capacity to love. I had other reasons for Margo and for others, but those ones are for you. But you took that growth and learning opportunity away from yourself by dating this new guy. It's like Margo died for nothing. You aren't getting what you were supposed to out of it. In one week you were over her death, thanks to this...distraction...of yours. One week. You are back to being comfortably numb and blithely unaware of the messages I am trying to send to you, and you are no longer on the path I set you on. You've blocked yourself from the Sunlight of the Spirit once again.

You are really good at convincing yourself that everything on Earth is from Me. You say that "everything that happens" is My Will. Well, Adora, I've got news for you. Sometimes, it's your will. Sometimes, it's a man's will. It's not always Mine.

I'll make situations work for Me, sure. If you insist on going a certain direction, away from Me, I'll find a way to turn you back around. But it's a lot harder down those roads than if you would just walk with Me from the beginning. Usually, the lesson I give you then is much more painful. Wouldn't you rather get the blessings that come from staying by My Side?

Don't you trust Me?

I don't want you to hurt any one. And I don't want any one to hurt you, but I can't stop them. I can only work through you, if you let Me. But you have to let Me in, and keep Me there. I know it hurts sometimes. Life is painful when you don't use people or other things to make yourself feel better. But I'll make you feel better, if you trust Me and stay with Me. You don't need to lash out in anger at your fellows. They don't have Me with them when they are hurting you. But if you keep Me with you, they can't hurt you at all. Be My Love, even in the face of wrath, and you'll feel My Love.

You don't know what I have in store for you. That's okay. You don't have to know. Do you know how crazy you'd be if you knew the future? And what then would be the point of living? There'd be no surprises.

It's time for you to be honest. You haven't been completely honest with "James" because you are trying to get things from him. You are being selfish, self-seeking, dishonest, and afraid. You haven't told him how terrible it makes you feel to date him, when you had given yourself the boundaries of no dating until you've completed your relationship inventory and no sex until marriage (and you broke both with him). You're just so focused on the end result that you envision for yourself. You want to be married to a successful, spiritual man who will treat you with respect...and save you. More news: "James" may not be as spiritual as you project. Does he pray morning and night, asking for knowledge of My Will and the power to carry it out? Does he carry the vision of My Will into all of his activities? Does he take his own moral inventory, and serve others, or does he do what he wants, when he wants, how he wants, for himself? You don't even know the answers to these questions. Worst of all, you are giving up going to meetings to date him. Please stop.

I know fantasy is more appealing than reality. But you got off the merry-go-round before, and you can do it again. I won't push you off -- but you're welcome to get off yourself, any time you'd like, when you're ready to come back to Me. Take the leap of faith. I'll hold your hand, and I won't let go -- if you won't.

Love,

GOD

"Feelings aren't Facts", and other Alternatives to Suicide

I'm a bit unnerved by what could potentially be a suicide note from an ex-boyfriend (see my last post). (Ironic how, in the post before that, I was actually wondering what someone's suicide note would look like.)

Hell, I'm a bit unnerved by a lot that's happening in my life, and that's why I'm writing a blog. I had intended to keep it secret, mostly (but leave it open for the general public, who don't know who I am). But because he had emailed me, hoping we could get back together, I figured I'd share my blog with him so he could know "the truth".

In truth, I'm not sure how closely you (or I) can get to "the truth" from reading my few blog posts, yet. The purpose of this "Relationship Inventory" is, for me, to finish it, and then find the patterns that lead to answers. Right now it's just scattered details. Facts. Feelings. It's only as true as I can get, at any given moment. And "good" or "bad" are irrelevant, for now. If I let myself feel too "bad" about these facts, I could feel like killing myself, too. But I happen to have some alternatives to suicide, and I'd like to share some such things to think about, to not feel so bad:



1) Feelings aren't facts.*

Facts are true; feelings are temporary. I don't need to kill myself because of how I feel, because the way I feel is going to change. I especially don't need to kill myself because of how someone else feels, because that person's feelings aren't facts, either, and are also going to change. Feelings are always in flux. I think relationships that last are not even based on feelings, but on facts. It's what we do that matters, in the long run - not how we feel.



2) Feelings are neither good nor bad, they just are.

Every one feels. It's part of the human experience. It's normal to feel emotions, because we all do: every one feels good sometimes, and every one feels bad sometimes. Both are gonna happen, should be expected, and are okay. No one likes to feel bad, duh. But when I feel bad, I can remember that I'm not the only one who's ever felt bad. I'm not unique in that regard.

True: some things, like loss, feel worse than others (downright physically painful, in fact). But other things feel pretty great, and there're plenty of great feelings to go around. If I feel bad, it's hard to imagine that I'll feel good again. But, because I know that feelings aren't facts, and they're temporary, I know that I will feel good again, eventually.



3) Facts are neither good nor bad, they just are.

If something "is"...why do I have to feel "bad" about it? If something "is", it just "is", period.

Sanity is, in part, I think, a state of not being overrun by one's feelings; it's being "okay" with facts. Einstein's definition of insanity is "doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results". I do the same thing over and over and expect different results when I'm propelled by feelings; I forget about facts, or, I don't want to look at the facts, because some facts can generate some pretty difficult and/or painful feelings, and I don't want to feel those terrible feelings, so, I turn away from the facts in order to avoid those feelings -- and then I'm caught by surprise when those same-type facts come around to hurt my feelings in the same way they have before.

So, feeling bad is good, to an extent, because it protects me from insanity. But I don't like feeling so bad that I want to kill myself. In those cases, I ought to become aware of facts and feelings, separately. Then I can look at the facts without feeling too terribly bad about them.



4) Feelings won't kill you.

Sometimes it feels like they will, but they won't. Sometimes the feelings do seem too much to bear -- they hurt physically, there's no relief in sight, and nothing is working to relieve the pain -- so, as for me, I scream and cry at the top of my lungs until I'm completely spent, and then, I turn to God. Whatever has happened that has caused me so much grief and pain (like my friend Margaret's suicide), I have to let myself feel first (there's no rationalizing grief away in the beginning of it), but, then, I, personally, choose to view whatever happened (the fact) as God's will. If it's God's will, it's not bad (even thought it feels bad)...and actually, because it's God's will, it's good. ("God is either everything, or else He is nothing.")

Here's how I found God: When I was down in my pit of alcoholic despair two years ago, the "Big Book" suggested I find a higher power to get me out of it. It was a matter of life and death for me, the book said. I didn't want to die, so I chose to believe in a God of my own understanding, as directed. I understand now that the purpose of believing in a God -- of my own understanding -- is to help me feel good. My God is kind, loving, forgiving, all powerful, has everything completely under control, and provides me with everything I could possibly need -- I don't have to worry about a thing, and it's that simple. ("Nothing - absolutely nothing - happens in God's world by mistake.") It's better than alcohol for an alcoholic, better than drugs for a drug addict, better than sex for a sex addict, better than love for a love addict, better than food for a food addict, better than shopping for a shopaholic, better than gambling for a gambling addict, and better than being pissed off and hurt for the loved ones of these sickos.



5) Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.

Not being able to accept things that "are" is one reason alcoholics etc. drink etc, and certainly the reason people kill themselves. So...



6) Acceptance is the answer to all your problems.

Some people call it "letting go and letting God" (which works for me, as I mentioned, in addition to #1-5). But say you don't want to believe in a God (I used to be of your ilk for many, many years, if this is the case, so I understand): you don't like blind faith, or men, or religion, or history, or being told what to do, or for whatever your reasons you just don't (or can't) believe. Well, since feelings "are" and facts "are", accepting them as they are doesn't require any extraordinary leap of faith. You're just accepting what "is". You can't change facts (but you can create new ones) and we all feel (although you can learn detachment as discussed in #3, and, feelings change). Facts aren't bad, feelings aren't bad -- they just are -- so, acceptance is the answer.

Again -- feelings aren't facts, and feelings won't kill you -- but you can certainly kill yourself, if you feel like it. If you do, you'll leave that fact for people to feel (the ones who have feelings for you), and they'll feel much worse than you do now. But eventually, they'll accept the fact that you couldn't accept facts or feelings, and their feelings of pain will subside, and they'll feel better. And you will, too, if only you don't use that permanent "solution" to your temporary problem.

And remember...



7) This too shall pass.



*Here I am discussing emotional feelings, not bodily feelings whereby the brain is registering pain from a physical ailment.

Copyright note: 6 can be found on page 417 of the "Big Book", 4th edition. Other sayings in quotation marks are also found in the "Big Book" but often repeated by word-of-mouth at 12-step meetings.