So two things happened on Tuesday.
1. Seth and Cat got married.
Monday afternoon, as I was walking out of my appointment with Sid, I had a message from Seth telling me he and Cat were getting married.
Yay, congrats, I’m happy for you, blablablah.
Then he told me they were getting married the next day.
I’m sorry, WHAT?!?!?
You waited until the day before to tell me?!?!
What the actual fuck, you fuck?!?
After thinking about it for a few hours, I decided to tell him that it was rude to wait so long to tell me. Which was, of course, a mistake.
Why on Earth did I think that would yield any positive results?? Like, apparently I was hoping for an apology.
“This is about Cat and I.”
Well, no fucking shit, Sherlock. But I’ve been EXTREMELY accepting of your relationship and cohabitation with one of your former mistresses. Why couldn’t you have given me the courtesy of having more than 24 hours to process the fact that you were getting married?!?
Also? Who the fuck gets married on a Tuesday?? Which of course gets my head spinning on the fact that it must be some sort of significant date/anniversary for them… and how long ago was that? Because it must have been while we were married… and… and…
SHUT UP BRAIN.
Anyway. So I’m mostly annoyed that they waited so long to tell me. But at least they had a modicum of courtesy to tell me before, and not let me find out on Facebook.
Mostly annoyed. Yes. But I know there are some residual feels there. I can’t see their stupid fucking wedding pictures on Facebook without getting annoyed. (more on that later)
And MY daughter is of course in them.
Maybe part of it is because when Seth first told me, I imagined this big elaborate wedding, with Emma as a flower girl or bridesmaid or something, absolutely adorable.
Not like, at the courthouse, tomorrow.
I know it’s not my wedding, but it’s a lot of information to be hit with at once.
WE got married at the courthouse. Even if it was a different one (they’re like 2 blocks away). And in hindsight I was disappointed because I really wanted the big ass wedding. Which I got a year later, but still.
Overall my thoughts are: She can have him. But she can do better.
So. There’s THAT.
2. Paul and I broke up.
I mean. That’s the only word I have for it, despite the somewhat murky nature of our not-exactly-defined but exclusively-hooking-up “thing.”
It was about a month of having hot sex, talking about hot sexy things, plus having fun (not specifically sexy) times and talking about other things besides sex, too.
Saturday he met Emma.
It went well.
I was not prepared for how well it went.
GOD DAMN IT THE FEELS.
I was not prepared for how much more I’d like him after watching him adorably interact with my little girl.
Between that, and his recent disclosure that he has unresolved feelings for someone else, I kinda freaked out.
“What if I like him too much??” “Wait, with his friend, I’m not even going to get a reasonable chance for something substantial, am I?”
Sunday we both got semicolon tattoos. Mine a butterfly, his a pattern.
I still absolutely love the tattoo, so there’s that.
Monday we had our second sexy lunch date. Which is exactly what it sounds like–sex instead of lunch.
Damn, if I’d know it would’ve been the last time I would have… I dunno. But I think I would have done something. At least it ended on a high note?
So I guess I alluded to it in the car back from lunch, and we talked more about it online Monday night. Basically me freaking out all, “what’s going on here?” and “do I even have a chance of this being more than just fun?”
Which got him thinking, with a rough broken engagement, and everything else… what can he handle right now?
As we kept talking, I got the feeling he wanted to break things off. Then he says he wants to hash it out in person, tomorrow. I figured in person meant bad news, but I was trying to convince myself otherwise.
After a nice dinner, we finally had that conversation.
Of course he’s a good guy and did it in person. Of course he even paid for dinner.
He needs to deal with his shit before he can give “us” a fair chance. And with the way things were going, there’s no way it could stay just for fun.
So, he likes me. He likes me a lot. He likes doing sexy things with me.
All this still kind of baffles me. But anyway.
He’s got too much baggage and shit to take care of that he’s afraid would mess things up if we keep going now.
Ouch. It hurts. It’s a slightly different hurt, I guess, than the usual breakup.
It’s not like either one of us doesn’t want to be together, it’s just the timing is shitty for him.
Last time the timing was shitty for me.
He wants to try again later. So do I.
I don’t want to hold my breath waiting for that. But I don’t know how to stop thinking (and crying, apparently) about it.
I’m still gonna live my life, and we’re still friends and talking and stuff.
But it just hurts.
I’m sad. I’m disappointed.
And I can’t stop foolishly wishing he would change his mind, even though logic is screaming at me that’s a bad idea.
Oh, and then beating myself up for even having the thought.
So now instead of just sad and lonely, I’m sad, lonely, and hurting, wishing things were different.
I’m impressed by his openness and honesty. His self-awareness and emotional intelligence. His being a good guy and telling me in person. Most of all, he made the hard choice to opt for self care over something hot and intense.
All that just makes me like him more.
I hope we’ll get a chance to try again. I like to think we will. And if not, I like to think it’s because I’ve found something else.
But right now I’m just really sad, and trying to muddle through.
Like, disinterested in food sad. Crying in the shower sad.
But I’ll be ok. I know I will.
This just really hurts and really sucks. 😦
I also keep forgetting that this must have been hard for him, too.
Doing the right thing doesn’t mean doing the easy, or the fun thing.
Christ, I’m pretty sure he was shaking during that last hug.
But I guess the good news is that this has been a much bigger deal for me to process than Seth and Cat’s stupid courthouse wedding.
And I mean that’s good news, because it means I’ve moved on a bunch. I guess?
Ugh. Therapy next week feels so far away.