I actually wanted to keep this blog, since quite some already1 drama free. But sometimes, one just can’t.
So there’s a post which upset me. Thoroughly upset me.
At first, I thought it was totally inappropriate to post that entry… especially to leave it open to the distant, unknowing and mainly only feedlurking relating blogging mob.
But there is more. There is a case of uncovered truth involved in this matter. And after months I was confronted with this case… again. Let me introduce you to the case by a part of my comment I left at Avi’s: I’m the young guy from England.
If you don’t like this, yes I plead guilty and admit I was an adulterer, but things sometimes happen. And they happen for a reason.
If a partner looks further, whether online or in real life, it means there’s something wrong. Something missing.
I will not quote here from a long email conversation I had with Mr. Roscoe some weeks ago, or maybe just slightly, but I will try to cover my, hopefully as objective as possible, story here. A timeline in which I neither want to hurt any of the parties. Not Mr. Roscoe, not my ex-fiance
And because I am going to share things here, more than I usually do, things I’ve only shared with fewest. People who I consider real friends, people whose hand I’ll shake someday, distance or not, I’ll also stick this entry in my mini-bio.
More after the jump. But before the jump… if you sense drama… be warned, comments are closed and if you don’t like that… fuck off. Now.
Last year around Christmas, the period in which every lonely person becomes a little lyrical, I started contact with a lovely woman. I had been reading her blog for months… and although no one could explain it, there was something. But more even, I was recovering from a constantly returning emotional train wreck. And work took the best of me.
Our contact soon evolved. Within only some days we had discovered we shared a lot, but also that we really wanted to discover each other as a person. You know… the usual shit.
But she was married. We both we’re aware of this, but luckily, around five thousand miles helped us, saved us from the temptations that might be.
Our contact intensified. Over chat, in IM. Soon she bought a webcam, a webcam for friends. Of course she needed an excuse, friends, to buy this webcam, but did I know how deep problems were. I’ll be honest with you: this woman who soon would change my life had, unconsciously, told me that she wasn’t satisfied in her marriage during our first chat already. I’m a good reader, listener even and never forgot that line.
And we came closer. The whole internet palette passed, we were in each other’s mind all day long, as soon as possible we tried to spend time together online and something grew. Over text message, over email, in IM, over Skype. You might have the wildest imaginations now, but go fuck yourself.
Obviously there was the moment of naughtiness, but it all wasn’t as wild as you would love to think it was.
I knew nothing then. Nothing else then that I was discovering a woman I found awesome and she would change my life. I knew nothing what was going on… nothing sensational in her life, except that she had loved to enjoy more cuddliness in her marriage. And somehow, this cuddliness was a thing which seemed to grow in our contact. Even if I was not dangerous. Even if I was around 5k away.
Then it happened. She and her husband had their birthday. He thought there was no reason to celebrate, especially not because they were trying to save for a not affordable house2. I pushed her to convince him to do something together, she at least wanted to go eat out together. It was a special day and although she wasn’t satisfied in her relationship, it meant a lot to her.
They went to eat out. I felt lonely. Until my cell phone rang and I received several pictures of her3. On their 14th. I won’t lie, obviously I felt flattered. More even, this was the moment I broke, I totally lost my heart.
Soon the unthinkable happened. We got engaged. It was unexplainable, but it happened. And we both wanted it.
It felt great, it was the best period of my life and everyone saw a total new Franky. Even at work. But this commitment meant a lot. Not only did we have to bridge distance, there was more: a marriage at her side and a horribly suffocating no-compete contract at my side. Plus the green card situation for me. But latter didn’t really bother me, because I had enough of contacts to arrange a new, not location based professional future for me. An online future. A new train wreck soon was born: Blogexplosion. And the sale of Blogexplosion. To me (and my partner).
Things moved on and we were really looking towards a future together. We had a blast. Again not as wild as many pervs might think, but mentally we became one every day more. And we would reach our future. A future together.
And then, the bang happened. He doubted things… and one day, totally based on suspicions, asked for a divorce. His suspicions were right.
By now I knew a little about him, but in both her and his honor, she always defended him and admitted she also made errors. Does this, her love for everything he had done, his suspicions, take away from the fact that he was a brownbeater?
Someone who could perfectly give her a guilt feeling about not spending enough time cleaning the house (and that although she’s a proud OCD’er?), more even that he used the family pressure some years ago after she had become the victim of domestical abuse, filed a complaint against him, only to drop this complaint under the pressure of his family.
Honestly… I didn’t care… about him. Only thing I saw was this wonderful woman I had discovered, had fallen in love with and was engaged to now.
Hell were about to break out now. I knew enough about him to realize he was going to be a psychological tormentor, using all the tricks of the trade to save his worthless future. Worthless because he was the minor earner in the family and worthless because every emotionally mature woman would quickly discover his character. She was aware of everything, but she really loved him.
Nevertheless she asked when I would be there. I needed two months to get out of my contract, find the financial possibilities to buy me out of my $200k no-compete contract and find a successor for me, which was a condition for me to be allowed to leave.
Within the following days, panic ruled. From my side, because we were alone. Her and me, and that was about it. She lived a closed life, with hardly any friends, except a husband who was physically very arrogant in those days, this resulting in tea accidentally falling on her before going to work and more even, him to show up at her work place4, bang on the desk when she didn’t notice him immediately, all followed by the obvious verbal abuse.
I received a text from her that he had taken away her computer and was going to have it analyzed by a friend, searched for evidence. We decided not to react on his provocation and await the result, because other things were more important.
I resigned, called my accountant and we made an emergency plan about how to buy me out. How could I financially allow paying exactly the same sum as my yearly fee was, except that sum was higher than 2 years of fees, because my fee was before taxes. But there were more important things: we had to find a way to give her support of people who cared about her, even if there was no one around, except for online friends.
This is where I have to admit something. I said I wouldn’t quote from the long, gentleman alike conversation I had with the wordly smart script writer. But some lines just are too great to skip.
Oddly enough, the computer issue in April was mostly a ruse. I found nothing because I didn’t really look. I had hoped I would get a truth from it in her fear, but she opted to gamble and it paid off for her as I ended up extremely apologetic for suspecting her of anything. Bought flowers, kissed her behind for weeks and weeks. That is the only reason our marriage appeared to be back on the right track.
A psychological warrior. Sweet.
But I must be honest, this is when I lost. This was when she wanted to give her relationship, her marriage, her love for Mr. Roscoe another chance. Because no man could ever come this close to her than he has and still does, but most of all, because she was open to his affections and finally… also because she was afraid to lose her son.
There is no doubt that the many years they both have lived together, shared both good and bad times, deep roots have grown. Roots which go deeper than anything and those years deserve to be respected. I was tormented. From one side, I saw someone I loved become happy again, find and enjoy those little moments in life again. Can someone want something more? From the other side, because I lost the woman I loved.
Our contact staid for some more, but both we started to distance from each other and all while this I made some errors. Allow me to give myself the bonus of being ‘the sad guy 5k away’. Sadly, not that long later our contact totally got sour and soon ended. I take all (most) blame for this, but it was an inevitable thing which would have happened anyway.
She felt for his ruses, flower, kisses from the back and a shortly acceptable, loving life.
But the good times didn’t last. Soon she was seeking contact with another person, who had supported her during the earlier shitstorm and some day the shit hit the fan again.
Again, there are stories from domestical abuse. Being smacked against the wall and being dragged through the room by the hair. And she has long, lovely, hair. That surely has hurt.
Obviously, as can be read at Avi’s entry, he ignores everything, everything relating to getting physical and she, having lived a yearlong life of mental oppression is still ready to give him a chance. Give him or is obliged to give him a chance? Remember, this is the guy who got physical more than once. There is no such thing as minor domestical abuse. This is the guy who oppresses this lovely and caring woman with his mental superiority. The guy who remembers everyone about all the good he has done for her 15 years ago. Things we have to respect him for, but life moves on and things can’t count emotionally in all day life for life. It’s like in sports: in many sports arts many teams were really succesful 30-40 years ago, England even became soccer World Champion in 1966, but where are those teams today? How are their performances? Do we care about the past 15 years later?
No, those are only memories. Memories from the past.
And so is love life. Things can be great for a while, but if they disappear, life goes on and love fades out.
I hate to admit it. I don’t care what happened after me. I don’t care that things went wrong either. I have sufficient of great, personal, memories. Moments I’ll never share with anyone else than I originally shared them with. But I’ll admit that I am a sucker and daily think of what could have been. Yes there are many questions, but I try to only take the great times with me. And those, I miss them now.
Ranted enough now. There are only two more things I want to say. One to her, one to Mr. Roscoe.
To him: you have made many errors and no things we don’t know, reasons you hide behind, cover your ass with, can excuse your abuse, both physically and mentally. You know you’re wrong, and if I’m correct 5 times now you have agreed on counseling. Only once you really went on with it, until one day you thought you didn’t need counseling. You know her, you know what she likes… and it’s a game you master. If that’s the only way you can prove yourself, you’re a sucker.
To her: if things have happened and repeated regularly, whether it was you looking somewhere else or you being the victim, this means something. Consider them and most of all, be honest with yourself. Get the fuck out there. NOW.
Things will only continue to repeat themselves and you’ll never break out, at least not before having been the victim and who knows how many more people will some day consider to send the local police to check upon you. I know I wasn’t the only one months ago. I know not that long ago several other people wanted to do this to. You have more places to go to than you accept yourself. You have more friends to rely on than you accept. And they are not just ‘virtual people’, I can think of many people who are ready to open their house for you. Break out without money? Screw that, money is no problem in life, it’s just an excuse. Many people would and will help you, even financially. Me in the first place. An iPod is nothing, freedom is everything.
But only you can make that step. And you better make it instead of pushing your close friends away. And trust me, after months of no contact, I don’t count myself a close friend, but friendship never dies. It’s your call, Heather.
Comments are off, this is my private journal. Hate it love it, I don’t care. People I care about know how to reach me. For no matter what. I also can be reached over Skype if things are REALLY important5. You got my info.
Go away now.