A Little Introspection(Letter to Lori II)

It was pointed out that if I posted this, to make sure and have my facts straight. Otherwise it would just sound like I was venting. I'm writing this to Lori, because it's easier to write something that concerns her TO her. So these are the facts as I remember them.




It has been suggested to me, by more than one person, my mother included, that perhaps I need to examine the reason(s), that I feel the need to fuck around. Since this can have nothing but positive results for my growth as a person, I decided to take on this rather monumental project. But for the time being, I’m going to confine my reasons for why I felt the need to seek sex outside of OUR relationship. That’s because most of that is still fresh in my mind. I’m not trying to make excuses or justify anything I did, just understand what drove me to make bad decisions.
As I stated in our conversation last night, I just never felt that you gave our relationship the attention it deserved. There was always one thing or another drawing you in a different direction. Not only did I feel sometimes like a low priority, sometimes I felt like I wasn’t a priority at all. Keep in mind here, I’m not criticizing, just making observations and trying to understand some things about myself. It helps me to put it in writing. That way I can see it in front of me. Anyway, I digress. You told me yourself one time, early on, that you had built a wall, and you weren’t going to let me or anyone else in. What was I supposed to think of a comment like that? But, me, being the either blind or foolish man I am, just blew that comment off. I thought, and perhaps still do, that I had enough love in my heart for the both of us. I should have seen some things then I see very clearly now. You never were very big on public displays of affection. I’m a touchy person, and for some reason, it felt to me like that appalled you. Sometimes you even acted like I was more of a pain-in the -ass that you barely tolerated having around. And contrary to your statement last week about everything ALWAYS having to be about me, it has been brought to my attention, by people who know us, is that quite the opposite is true. I know you going to say “They’re not living my life” and that’s true! I don’t think any of them are being judgmental, just making observations. But the general consensus is that for the past 12 years I have let you roll all over me. I never looked at it that way, but perhaps I was too close to the situation.
When was the last time you told me I looked nice, or was handsome, or had done a good job on something? Was it that hard for you to say something nice about me? You have said for awhile that I wasn’t talking nicely to you! And you have also said that people tend to talk to you the way you talk to them. Ring any bells? Has it ever occurred to you that the reason I was snarky to you was because snarky is what I was getting from you? I’ll bet not. I don’t think you’ve complimented me more than a dozen times in the last 12 years. About anything. And doing a good job with something you asked me to do? Geez, would it have hurt once in awhile to say something I did was great?
I think the kicker in the whole thing, and there’s always a kicker, is that I felt like I was competing with everything and everyone else for your attention. It felt to me like it was pulling teeth to get you to spend some time with me. I’m not saying this because I need my little ego massaged, but because that’s the way I perceive it. Let’s review a second, I feel like a fifth wheel, unappreciated, and not wanted, just barely tolerated. Hmmmm. And this went on for a long time, and I just rolled, against my better judgment.
Enter Denise. To tell you the truth, before she came to my shift, I just thought she was a snooty bitch. Good looking and she knew it. So full of herself. That was my perception. The only time we interacted at all when she first got there was when a call went off, and similar work related stuff. We talked a little, but not a lot. She always said good morning, and was pleasant to talk to. My perceptions began to change. She wasn’t such a snooty bitch after all. Keep in mind, my mindset in regards to our relationship. I felt I was competing for your attention with EVERYTHING and EVERYONE! I barely got 5 minutes with you before there was some problem with a kid, which you’ve made yourself very clear on, or your mom, or Chad, which we’ve already discussed and will discuss more. I got more attention from her at work than I was getting from you at home. The thought of the sex thing hadn’t even entered my mind yet. I was just craving the attention , and was getting it from her, when I should have been getting it from you.
As you have so rightly pointed out, my perception of not getting any sex at home was wrong. Oh we were having a lot of sex, but it seemed to me that you were just going through the motions. I got the distinct impression that you were just doing it to get it out of the way. Even in that aspect of our relationship, it seemed like I wasn’t a really high priority. Oh you got off, but it seemed muted somehow. It’s always much more fun with a willing lover, who’s enjoying the experience, and who is getting into as much as I am. It just seemed to me like you thought we were just “fucking”. There was no fire or passion. The act itself felt somehow corrupted by your lack of enthusiasm. It rubbed off on me, too. And I ended up just going thru the motions as well. Without any fire or passion.
It was then I started thinking of Denise as someone I could have! It might help me bring the fire and passion back into me. Again, I’m not making excuses, just trying to examine my mind set at the time. In some warped way, I thought that if I could get some fire back into myself, I could help you get the fire back as well. Pretty twisted, I know. Our conversations took on a decidedly more sexual tone. I finally decided that I should just be blunt. What I thought was going to be a piece of cake proved difficult. She said that she was in a relationship at the time, and that I was “married”. That was the exact word she used. A conscience. I was shocked. So while I became less blunt, I still threw the subject out there once in awhile.
It was then I came up with a idea I thought for sure would get her in bed. I was fond of her, but what if I told her I loved her? From my own experience, some women need an emotional attachment before having sex. I threw that “line” at her one day, and to my surprise, she just said she understood and that these kind of things happen. Not the result I expected. So over the course of time, I got her some little cards, would sent her E-mails, on the off chance her resistance broke down.
Let me start here by saying that I DID NOT use this with you. I was in love with you from the beginning. That wasn’t and still isn’t an act just to get you in bed. If you recall, we waited 18 months before we had sex. It was difficult sometimes, but I was happy to wait, because I wanted you to be really involved, and not just doing it because I was pressuring you. I remember like yesterday the first time we made love. It was after the company Christmas party in December of ‘94. I bet you’d thought I’d forgotten.
Anyway, you know the rest, you found the E-mails, her Brad found the cards. The whole thing blew up in my face! What was supposed to be a simple piece of ass turned into a fucking nightmare. And just for the record, she has never budged from her position of not having sex. Zip, nada, zero, zilch! IS NOT going to happen. By now the damage has already been done. I am forced to live every day with the consequences of my own stupidity. Doing damage control when I should be with you. I don’t know if any of this makes any sense. But looking at this and finally putting it all together makes it all the more clearer how really idiotic I’ve been. Instead of coming to you, I went elsewhere. Maybe I’ve answered the question I started my blog with, am I an idiot! To me at this point in time, the answer is painfully obvious.