Kneeling before Him...

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Monday, May 09, 2005

Where do I start? That is always the hardest part you know, starting. Once it is started I can keep up the flow, I just have to work out how to start. I don't want to do this. I know that and that makes it even harder to know where to begin. I keep asking myself why I don't want to say this and the reason I guess is because this is a part of me I am not proud of. This is a part of me I don't want to be. I like to think that I am a good person, kind, giving, loving, even though at times I can be an awful bitch. I hate that awful bitch in me. I hate the spite I sometimes feel and I hate the fact that I can believe I have higher morals than others then I treat them the way that I do.

So I guess I have to start by admitting the truth. I hurt someone I loved and who probably loved me too. I did it maliciously, because I believed he had hurt me. I did it intentionally and I took great satisfaction in it at the time and later when I remembered it, I always could taint it with the fact that he had hurt me first and therefore he deserved it, didn't he?

Only, on the weekend I found out that he didn't hurt me. I had done it all myself. Mac found out through an old friend He bumped into in Bangkok airport that Nicholas had not been fucking around when he was fucking me. The old friend would know because she was the one he was supposed to be fucking. She said she had tried and tried and tried with Nicholas, but he was not as easy as he pretended to be. She had no reason to lie to Mac. She doesn't know Mac and I are together now, nor did she know that I had been sleeping with Nicholas. She admitted all the other men she had slept with, she was one of the worst offenders in the meat market. She would pounce on anything that had a penis and was breathing, but she was so needy that men would do a fuck and run from her.

So she told Mac that she had never fucked him and at the time when I accused Nicholas of sleeping with her, Nicholas had told me the same thing. I chose not to believe him. And although I then slept with him two more times, when it came time for my boyfriend to return, I told Nicholas I didn't care about him and wanted to be with my boyfriend. He accepted it without argument and then stayed right away from me and my group of friends for months. I thought he was hiding from us all because he had been found out. Perhaps he stayed away because I had not chosen to be with him.

And the stupid thing is that after all this time, after all this space between us, it hurts to know that he cared. I have spent the last couple of days first stunned, then lost in thoughts about what could have been. And it is silly, it is wrong because look at what I have, Mac, the house, the kittens, this wonderful fantastic life that I wouldn't change a single part of. I love Mac, completely and endlessly and I wouldn't trade that love for the world.

But I spent so long, years hating Nicholas for treating me the way that I believed he did. Mac told me time and time again that he believed that Nicholas cared for me and I always said that he couldn't have. You can't be fucking two people when you start a relationship with someone you care about. Maybe later you can, but not at the start. And I have held onto this anger at him for nothing. I was the one doing him wrong.

There is no way for me to make this right. I don't know where he is to apologise and even if I did, I am not sure it would do any good. Mac says he is probably over any hurt he felt and is probably able to smile about it by now. I have to believe he is right and let it go.

Mac told me about it because He thought it would help me tie up the lose ends on Nicholas. He thought knowing that Nicholas cared would help me heal over it because I was still carrying around an open wound. And I think that when I find it in my heart to forgive myself, I will be able to look back at the time I spent with Nicholas with the fondness the relationship probably deserves.

Right now, I guess I miss what could have been.


Posted by Sarah McBroden at 7:33 am




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