February 27, 2013
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wide awake…
D sends the odd text. Checking in. He sent an iPod and music discs to me after…AFTER….we broke up. I had spent a couple hundred dollars on his Christmas, which he insisted on opening in my presence. He was delighted but had not spent so much on my gift – an iPod Nano. He insisted on upgrading it.
I caught him in a spectacular lie, an unnecessary lie. He had told an elaborate tale about spending New Years with the neighbors, but had spent it with the fair weathers. I wouldn’t have cared who he spent it with, but the lie spooked me. I found the wherewithal to break it off for good. Devil me applauded. D grumbled and made accusations, tossing projections of his own sins on me. A wiser and wide awake me took command of my heart and my head, countering his accusations. He wanted me back, but I was unwilling to return. I told him gently, firmly that it was not necessary for him to buy me a gift. I didn’t expect one. But he insisted.
I hauled the package to work, nervous and afraid. Dr K stood by my side when I opened it, “It’s the ‘real deal’, and it’s new,” he looked concerned, “Are you sure you want to break it off with this guy? That’s a nice present.” I looked at him with sad eyes, “He lies….always. I can’t trust him. Besides, I told him not to feel obligated to give me such a nice gift.” Dr K sighed and shook his head, “I think that someone would have to love you a lot to spend so much….” I touch his arm, “No…he doesn’t.”
He doesn’t.
I talk weeks to set it up.
D emails like clockwork. Asking if I had it set up….asking if I wanted more music. My responses are short, polite and subdued. He probes deeper. I log off.
Devil me hugs me from behind, “It bothers you to talk to him, doesn’t it?” I nod, “I think about the night that he made all those outlandish accusations. Then I realize that he was projecting his sins on me. That makes it easy to stay away. He’s one sick mother fucker. I don’t need that shit. I don’t even want to be his friend.”
Angel me is shocked, “Does he know that?” I shake my head, “I’m working on closing my page and opening a new one. Or new ones…. He won’t be on my contact list.”
I shrug. When I walk away, I walk away for good.
