After a year and a half, I am writing the final chapter on Tristan. Yes, I know it probably should have been written years ago, and most of you think he’s not even worth the words I type. But we all walk our own path and come to our individual conclusions when we are ready to face them. This post is my final chapter on a very tortured relationship.
Jez once told me she read that it takes half the time you were involved with someone to get over them. So in my case Tristan and I were emotionally/sexually engaged for about 3.5 years, and the fact that it has taken 1.5 years to be ready to close the book completely means I’m actually running slightly ahead of schedule. Yay me!
I normally don’t look back too far in life. I would say I’m more of a “forward motion is everything” type of woman. Especially when there is absolutely nothing you can do about a situation. But love is my Achilles heel, and the one thing that has the power to cripple me completely. I’ll venture to guess that most of you already know what a hopeless romantic I am if you have been following my posts for the past several years. I try like hell to be more of a “thinking” type, but that feeling nature…man it dies hard, I tell ya!
I think it took me a very long time to see that the man I loved (please note the past tense usage of the word “love”) was not worthy of my adoration. Sadly, I think he realized this very early on in our relationship, which is where all the problems began. He once asked me: “Why do you love me? I’m a dirty old dog.” The very thought of him speaking about someone I loved in such a derogatory manner cut through my heart like a sharp arrow. I instantly tried to assuage his “fears” and massage his ego until I was satisfied that he felt deserving of my love. The problem is, I don’t believe a narcissist is ever really convinced of their worth. Of course that is just armchair psychology, and I’ve never actually verified that he is a narcissist. I only have my own history book to go by. Thankfully I also know how powerful a tool history is.
“The best predictor of future behavior is past behavior.” – Albert Ellis
If I could encapsulate our relationship and its’ disastrous demise into one paragraph, this is what it would be.
He wooed me until I fell. Hard. Harder than I’ve ever fallen for anyone in my entire life. Then just as quickly, he bolted. Except he kept coming back for more. More ego stroking, more cock sucking, more gaslighting. And then he would disappear again, leaving me heartbroken and confused. He would sometimes apologize when he came back, occasionally even shedding tears, telling me how special and amazing I am. It was in those heart-breaking and vulnerable moments that we made inches of progress towards one another. Progress such as him deciding he/we should seek therapy. But every time we took one step forward, we would take two (or maybe 10) steps back. Case in point; in our first counseling session on May 1st, 2013, he ended our relationship for good. On June 17, 2013 he cavalierly asked me for a blow job as I sat crying across the booth from him in the tiny diner we had agreed to meet in to talk.
As I skim the above paragraph, I feel nothing but sadness. Sadness firstly for all of the heartache he caused me, and secondly for the tortured human being he must be living inside of to be able to cause me such pain.
“If you truly loved yourself, you could never hurt another.” – Buddha
If Tristan called me, I would not answer. If he texted, I would not reply, if he showed up on my doorstep I would gently say goodbye and shut the door. Hell, now that I think about it, I might even slam the door in his face uttering an “OH HELL NO!” He was a man who profoundly hurt me. Repeatedly in fact. And even though he claims that was despite his best intentions, I no longer believe him. A man who doesn’t want to hurt a woman, won’t.
It’s that simple.
Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.