The disaster didn’t wait long. After a night of heavy partying my boyfriend and I had a bit too much to drink and the night turned into a nightmare. I’ll for-go the details. But even with a black-out the next morning, I remembered enough to know I had to move on quickly. By that time I was living with the guy so I needed a place to go.
My friends called their friends, their friends called my friends- and by the end of the day I was moved out. And moved back in to Jasons old apartment. Everyone gave me the big “get your shit together” lecture over and over until I almost wanted to rebel against rebelling. So confusing!
Sigh… what a messy time that was. What a mess I was. I’ve conveinently forgotten much of this time- memories are blurry and hard to summon up . Moments seem to fall into consciousness and then quickly fall away. As they go they get smaller and smaller. Some of them I don’t care to reflect on. This is a part of the healing process I’m trying to trudge thru. I know that I can’t expect anyone else to forgive me for the mistakes I’ve made if I can’t forgive myself. The problem is that these times are so ugly- I have a hard time focusing long enough to conjure up the issues long enough to feel anything anymore. It’s like trudging thru mud, and much too disgusting to write. Is it really that bad? In my reality it is.
Eventually I gave in to the comfort Jason allowed me to have. It kinda felt like moving back in with my parents. I felt excited to have a new start- happy to be forgiven and loved unconditionally. But that feeling was mixed with a sense of failure and loss. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Jason so much then. He was making me believe that I could really truly trust someone not to leave me. To love me even when I’m at my most horrid. And to be happy doing it. What a switch that was! I needed him, and he needed me. We were opposites, and it worked well for us. We enjoyed each other and had fun together.
Jas and I rented an apartment at a brand new apartment complex in south Denver. It felt fancy and nice, and we fell right into our comfortable existence as if we’d never left it. I found a great job at a cell-phone company, and that was exciting and new. Jason worked away at the hotel. All was well. Which is not.. Comfortable for me, for some reason.
The guy I ran away from? Well, turns out he ran away too. And the place he ended up at was not too far from me. He decided to write me an apology letter, and I walked right into his trap. Fell for his talk hook, line, and sinker. Yeah, I’m smarter then that. Yeah, I knew better. Yeah, I shouldn’t have even bothered responding. But, I did. Damn! It was also about this time that I began to make friends with other young people at my new job. They went to happy hour. They stayed out all night. They played hard and had fun and they invited me along. Of course I went. Of course Jason didn’t. Of course I had to go f*ck everything up.
I spent weekends with people I shouldn’t have been speaking too. I lied to Jason about it. We fell apart. We lived together but worked separate shifts and rarely saw each other. If we did see each other, we didn’t talk or hang out much. Jason never questioned me on my stories of where I was going or who I was with. He never called to check on me or see what I was up to. That didn’t make it his fault, by any means, but it did make it easier for me to do. I began to feel numb about the lies and cheating. I thought if he really cared, he’d have asked. I didn’t go out of my way to hide anything and Jason didn’t go out of his way to find out. This went on for over a year. In December of 2001 I went to Nebraska to visit old friends. We drank ourselves dry and at the end of the night I was in a panic. Jason was the one I always drunk dialed whenever the drunk wasn’t a happy one. He never complained that it was late and I was acting stupid. He talked me thru it. He swore his love to me. I agreed. When I drove home, we were back and all was well in our world. I broke it off with anyone else I’d been spending time with, and went on my way.
Until January 1st 2002. When I discovered I was pregnant.
