The Dark Side of A Projected Gemini Influence

It's a work day!  And I'm sitting on the porch, sun glaring off the screen, making it multi-functional.  I can see how my hair looks against it.  I took the day off since I knew I would be home late last night from my wonderful event in the city.  

I'm wondering if there was some sort of Gemini something in the astrological dice yesterday.  A duality.  I had what was a great time and one of the absolute worst times lately.  

The book I had ordered from the Strand had not yet arrived and the author event was upon me! So I called them and come to find out, they just hand me the book when I get there.  Whoo hoo!  I didn't know this well enough in advance so I had emailed Flip.  I remembered that I saw one of my books there, Door Wide Open by Joyce Johnson, still on a shelf.  I emailed him a simple email to ask if it was there and if he would please put it in his mailbox for me to pick up.  Did I use the word simple?  Yes, for me it was.  He couldn't answer simply.  He had to say that I had a few books there still and would I need a hazmat bag so that I don't catch his cooties.  We are 42, folks. Both of us.  Just saying.

I replied without any notice to the cooties.  Asked if he could put them in a bag and put them at the end of the driveway and that I had 2 small books of his that I could put in the mailbox or in the spot where he leaves my books.  He couldn't just give me a nice answer.  Instead he emailed with the same basic speech he's been sending me for over a month I think.  He's been going off every single day, whether I address it or not.  I've told him that I'm not doing this anymore.  What is he gaining by emailing me this stuff day after day?  It's more that he is forcing his perspective on me constantly, as if one day I'll say, "Huh.  You were right.  I do see it that way now.  I so DID 'fuck and chuck' you, just as you said I did!  Amazing!  Gee, I'm sorry."  

The back-story on that being that yes we had a physical reunion about a month ago, maybe longer, at my suggestion.  I've written about it.  His ex who appears only when I'm gone calling while I was on the phone with him and he trying to brush it under the rug, then telling me when I called him on it that they call each other in hard times.  Meanwhile, during my relationship with him, had I discussed our relationship with my exes, he would have flipped out and figured out a way to make me feel like I'd done wrong.  Three years of conditioning by him and he rewrites every rule he's inflicted on me.  If I were to rewrite it, I'd be effed.  If he does it, I'm still effed.  So whatever. 

So instead of doing this nice and easy, I receive emails that I am a pig.  That I don't deserve respect.  Are you tired of this? Do you think you've heard this before if you normally follow this blog?  Well you have.  Pretty much all the time.  Because he keeps going.  The batteries do not die with this one.

I'll be honest...I'm not with anyone.  I don't have a boyfriend, I'm not priming anyone to be my boyfriend and I'm not speaking with any dudes who could turn into one.  I don't even feel that I'd be ready to inflict myself on another person.  I need a little time to be normal again.  I had emailed him numerous times asking him where my books would be.  I didn't tell him that I had an event, I just figured I could ask for my things and since he isn't put out by driving them anywhere, he could handle the task.  Oh Gods of Assumption, why do I pray to thee?  He sent back all of my emails at this point writing simply 'Unread'.  So I put in the subject line, "books, end of driveway please".  I know even if he isn't opening them, he can't miss that.

I showed up...no books at the end of the driveway.  Sigh.  Drive down the long driveway and then I start beeping the horn. Eventually I get out to knock.  I can hear him before I can see him and hear the word 'obnoxious'.  Then he opens the door, his mouth already going, him telling me something like, "You look good.  Too bad....blah blah blah blah" (something along the lines of an insult) and I don't hear the rest.  I'm busy tossing his two neatly wrapped up books into his chest.  He is still going on.  It goes ugly.  FFFFFFuuuuuuugly.  And this time I am not proud that I've even stooped to looking the slightest bit annoyed.  I certainly acted it.  And it wasn't right. I was so fed up from all the accusatory emails, the name calling, the lack of respect and while I am still paying for his health insurance.  I am fed up for paying off his jeep, for paying for his trip to the wedding this summer, for running to his side if he needed me, while I was ignored much of the time.  Fed up for the years of repression, wild assumptions and mean things he has said to my daughter.  Fed up for every good intention being turned into a violation  or expectation.  I spit at him.  I did.  And I immediately hated myself for it.  Ugh. Why why why why. Why did I stoop to this?  I've been doing so good at not reacting to his crap.  He told me to get out and somehow all my books ended up on the ground.  I picked them up as he went inside. Somewhere in this he called me a whore.  Why, I am not sure.  Don't twelve year old boys do that when they aren't sure what it means, just that it's insulting?  Don't guys do that when you won't give them any?   Then I looked up to see him coming toward me and quickly put The Witching Hour out in front of me.  He came out to spit in my face.  But Anne Rice saved me with her big storybook.  He stormed back inside, leaving his dog bewildered and stuck outside alone.  I shouted twice that his dog was outside.  He didn't come out.  I left.  I saw him in my rear view mirror finally go out and get his dog.

I fumed all the way to my next stop.  I wished I had just chuckled his crap off.  But as I thought of how he needed to control the situation and make me go to his door for my books instead of having no contact as I'd asked for (it's easier and it sure would have avoided all of this).  I was mad at his need for control.  And my reaction to having to deal with it.  

I stopped at Starbucks on the way to my train and sat for a moment, composing.  I knew the right thing would be an apology - only for my behavior...no matter what HE did or said, I can only take care of things on my side of the fence.  By the Grace of God (because even God seems to have a limit as to how much energy can be used for this) I got his voicemail.  I spoke evenly, apologizing for my behavior but also saying why couldn't he have just put the things outside instead of needing to be controlling?  And that his mouth was going before he even opened the door.  And...that I don't even want to speak to him again.

I got a tall bold coffee with room, picked out some pomegranate vanilla cashews and a croissant and headed for the train. The rest of that story will be a different post.  I don't want to taint my trip with this nonsense.

He called my cell phone alone over 25 times.  He was calling it from 3pm until at least midnight. He figured out how to text from the computer and started texting me saying that I had major cleavage showing and making assumptions that I was seeing someone, even though I told him just yesterday morning that I wasn't.  Not that it was any of his business.  But he's the guy who will smear you all over creation and people will believe him.  His own therapist is duped in my opinion.  

Now somehow, he knew I wasn't home.  Nah, it's not that easy - I don't answer my phone or email him back when I AM home much of the time.  Something else was going on.  My hunch was that he was checking my driveway.  You have to go into my driveway to check it.  You can't necessarily see if I'm home by passing by.  He sounded so sure in his texts that he knew I wasn't home...that my daughter wasn't home on a school night.  He accused me of going out on a mother daughter date...of taking my daughter with me so I could go screw some guy (his words).  He claimed to have called the police on me and said that I could be arrested but that he chose not to press charges.  At one am, he attached a message to a statement about the insurance, saying not to cancel him just yet - he wanted to be tested for STDs now. The message attached to it saying that he could still have me arrested if he chose.  So he put an insurance statement in a sandwich with a possible arrest.  I have my own reasons for believing he didn't call the police and I won't divulge that here.  But it would be awfully surprising for him to want to be in touch with police.

STDs???  Can you get them from a toilet seat? The last person that I was with was him.  And unless he's taking home the trash, then he shouldn't have any worries.  He's just being insulting.

At one a.m., I heard a car pull into the driveway.  I had all my lights off thankfully, but for the Golden Girls.  Dorothy would kick ass, even dead I know she would.  I saw him view my car, turn around and leave.  He was stalking me, just as I knew he was.  Now how could he in the right frame of mind be doing this?  Over 25 cell phone calls to me?  How many went to my home number?  He called my mother three times while I was out.  She refuses to answer the phone for him.  We aren't even together and he is calling my mother late at night to harass her?

I emailed him right away and told him that if he ever stalks me again I will have him arrested.  

You have to realize, he has to blow into a breathalyzer to start his car.  His license is restricted.  I can probably have him arrested for violating his license privileges.  As well as stalking once I show phone records.  

This was someone that I cared about very much for so long.  Someone who is steadily declining.  I am trying desperately to get away from even speaking to him because we were not healthy together and something about him is provocative.  He provokes, goes on and on...accuses and takes out ads in the Superbowl with his fantastical assumptions.  I certainly don't hate him.  I need to get my own self healthy and not do it under the pressure of a split brain where one side is trying to reflect and heal while the other is shutting off ringers and deleting emails or defending my character.  The whole thing is really sad, embarrassing and at the same time very human.  I am hesitant to be this candid with my dirt but no one's life is perfect.  And this is my journey.  It's going uphill to steady from here.