When people tell me I’m courageous to write the things I do, they mean disclosure. Admittance. I put myself out there, cellulite and all, to be judged. The back fat, the smell, the ugly of it all. I have never given a shite what people think about any of it. My parents read this, coworkers, ex boyfriends, lovers, friends, and strangers. I don’t see that as courage.
What’s more courageous is to face things, pick them up, turn em over and examine the shadows and undersides of things. It’s not easy.
I don’t want people to cheer me up or make me laugh. I need to stew in it, and work through it in pages, paragraphs, outlines and arcs. Sort through categories in my archives if you can’t stand it. Or stop reading my site. I don’t give a shite.
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Your post makes me think of how I've wanted to write about my own bad "evil ex" experiences but thought not to do it because it feels like giving him power over me again to write about it. The pain of the time, the emotions. A lot of my own "evil ex" stories are very similar to yours and so reading your pain makes me think about how hard it must be to write this stuff… I'm not surprised you're pissed again. Thanks for sharing, and I won't offer any sympathy or say you're brave. We already know that from other posts. :)
Congratulations!! The west is the place to be. As they say, there is room at the top even if they tell you there is not. I guess you are already there.
Love it patient. Love is kind…
Betrayal is pitiless. It is cruel. And the severity of the pain you feel by this "unkindest cut" is not determined by the person who betrayed you, but by the intensity of emotion, love, and trust you place in them.
Yes, the betrayer's fingerprints are on the knife… but you detemine how deep it goes, and whether it twists its way to its target.
The lengths you went for him. The ties; holding hands; the dinner still on the table the night you spoke to her… raise the stakes. Finding that letter is an even more harrowing reminder to YOU of how much you exposed yourself to the lunge of the knife–and in your own hand. And when viewed from after the fact, that is what brings your simmering "stew" to a full boil.
It takes one to commit a crime… yet, ruthlessly, TWO for that crime to become a betrayal.
And (I meant to say) that pain is palpable in your words. Strong stuff, Steph. Strong stuff.
i know exactly what you're going through. it's called ironbound.
Snaps to you, that's all I have to say. That and when is the book coming out?:)
This latest posting has really moved me. It is very brave so share so much.
I have never posted a comment here before but have been reading since you were featured in the independent in the UK but this time I had to comment.
Goddamn prettyboy. I hate him
I've gone through something similar during the past few weeks. I cleaned out my disasterous closet and found old pictures of Him. All this shit that He gave me. I didn't want it anymore.
So I took my fiancee to our backyard, and we burned it all!
that was so sad,
sometimes you gotta let that dignity and loss thing go steph,gotta kick a butt or two before you kick out the jams.
Aah!!!,how the west was won the day you headed out
there.
you will be happy,t'is clear to see, my red headed maiden, for you carry all that is good and strong in you.
weep no more
matt haywood
I wonder what about his cheating made you throw it all away? There are women who've decided to handle things differently. In my own case I discovered email addressed to another woman. We talked about it I cried for about a month. I'd wake up crying and go to bed crying. We became closer. I didn't feel I had any other choice but to hang on. We had to struggle for YEARS before we could be together physically so for me discovering the cheating whether it was real or cyber I just couldn't throw everything away.
I hope you can get past this and stop thinking about it. He sounds like an ASS that you're better off without. Who knows if there are any men out there who have the ability not to cheat.