You

You changed the security settings on your facebook page and made it searchable again.  I stared at it for 20 minutes today knowing that with one click I could have your attention.  You've reached out a number of different times and ways the last few weeks.  I know it's eating at you that I haven't responded.  You're banking on that part of me that feels bad when other people are unhappy.  It's worked in the past quite effectively. 

I've had a rough weekend. The kind that would normally drive me to you seeking validation, safety and security.  I'd want to be wanted and lusted after and you would provide that in abundance. If I couldn't get your attention, or enough of your attention, I'd flaunt my sexuality to get what I wanted. It worked every time. I knew what to say and what not to say to get you aroused and wanting more. I'm sorry I used you in that way. Our mutual addiction issues fed on each other.  I'm sincerely sorry for my part in that. 

To bring me back to reality today, I searched for your wife's account too.  It wasn't hard to find.  Sometimes I find it hard to believe that you led me on for 7 years and never told me you were married. Sometimes I find it harder to believe that I never caught on.  For seven years you let me think the reason we couldn't be together was me. For seven years you twisted my actions and thoughts until I didn't trust what I was seeing or feeling anymore.  How did I let it get out of hand that far?  For seven years I loved you with every thing that I am and when things never quite worked out, I figured it must be me.  It never occurred to me that it could be you.

As I fought with my sister last night, the old internal dialog started.  "This has got to be you. Other people seem to be able to make this work and get along, so you must be the one in the wrong. If only you were a better person, stronger, more patient, more unselfish, more spiritual, more Christlike, you could handle this. Whenever anything goes wrong in my life, that is the internal dialog.  If you were a better person, he would love you. If you were more fun to be around, you would have friends. If you were prettier, men would be attracted to you. If you were more Christlike, you wouldn't get angry."

For my entire life, I have felt like the broken one. It never occurred to me that I was normal, and everyone else was broken. How could I have so many broken people in my life? How could so many of them end up in the same place?  I was the common denominator between everyone, so it must have been me. 

But something really, really amazing happened last night.  At the height of this terrible self-bashing session, I showed up at my friends house. I thought we were going to a movie, but in reality - she threw me a party.  A party celebrating me. A party celebrating my transition from dysfunction to healing.  I walked around the corner and saw this amazing party and lost it.  It took me 10 minutes to calm down enough to speak, I was crying so hard. These amazing women that I love and respect and admire, showed up to celebrate me. Me. ME! 

I am not broken. I am not crazy.  I am not selfish.  I am not wrong. I am not a mistake.

I am enough. Just me, who I am right now in this very moment, is enough. Can I be better -- sure.  Will I be better -- of course.  But being who I am, right now, does not make me unworthy. Being who I am right now, is something to celebrate.  Being who I am, right now, is amazing.

I will not allow myself to let you, or anyone else, make me feel that way ever again. 

The whole seven years, it was you and not me.