Third Rate Romance

 Entry 1     2:21 p.m.

I had to go to my first in-person meeting at work today since COVID-19. It was not  a big deal, but I did not like it. I felt uncomfortable, even with a mask on. I left feeling no less alienated than before I went in. No one did anything untoward, in fact they are all quite lovely, but I am in a funk and in a job that I find mind-numbing, and yet am stuck in for a while. I don't dare change jobs.  

Jenny decided to renege on her agreement not to talk to me last night, after I had asked for no contact. Despite her continued attempt to get me to engage, I just didn't respond.  The communications became more absurd over time, culminating in this missive:

It is hard to fathom how a person with three masters' degrees can unironically manage to sound like a mad nine-year old. This reminds me of the lyrics of a Police song, I think from Regatta De Blanc, called, "Can't Stand Losing You."  The relevant part:

I guess this is our last goodbye
But you don't care, so I won't cry
But you'll be sorry when I'm dead
And all of this guilt will be on your head
I guess you'd call it suicide
But I'm too full to swallow my pride

So, its more melodramatic than the song, is cruel in its assertion that I will be happy to get rid of her--it will be the greatest loss of my life should I outlive her. Of course she texted this morning as if nothing happened last night. Not to let me rest on my toes, she later sent a text in which she suggested she may need to go somewhere else tonight if I am going to yell and swear at her.  So, last night I did yell.  I did swear. But I didn't swear at her.  She can call me a name directly, an asshole, for instance, and justify it.  But, if I say something is bullshit, I am apparently traveling a bridge too far. 

Also, we were just in another meeting where a doctor is telling her that there is nothing they can do to change the course of the disease, where Jenny sobbed all the way to the car and was inconsolable. After her assurances, that I didn't ever believe but hoped were true in spite of myself, that he had decided he could no longer carry on with her and had decided to patch up his marriage. She and I have been spending so much time together and snuggling and I let my guard down. I allowed my attachment to grow, rather than atrophy into simply something I am morally obliged to do (in my moral universe).  I am still upset about it, but once I started to grey rock to her texts last night, I remembered the strength and resolve I had to see this through and to maintain my boundaries when I kept myself socially distant away from her. I am returning to my old practices. I will comfort her as needed, but no more sitting with her on the couch, snuggling at night bullshit. No more sitting with her in the morning and drinking coffee and talking about our day.  I am going back to a place its safe for me to be in for now. 

She is coming home today.  I told her--via text--the only time I lose it like last night and start swearing and talking in a loud angry voice is in counseling, which is almost 100% true. But its such an act, such a damsel in distress and shrinking violet behavior from her, when she gives as good as she gets when it suits her, for instance, when I told el pinché motherfucker's wife about the tawdry no tell/motel romance of theirs.  

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