Every keystroke is painful tonight.

Weekend activities overshadowed in the wake of an unexpected, albeit inevitable, event that took place less than 24 hours ago.


It was a dirty martini kind of evening. We were celebrating new, organic friendships, grown with mutual respect and untainted admiration. The company was welcomed. I haven’t felt the desire to explore new relationships in a while. Risking heart ache or stress to adventure into new situations hasn’t taken priority in my life lately.  It’s safer to stay within the confines of the known. This is why I haven’t been dating. This is why I’ve known the majority of my friends for multiple  years. Self-preservation was my goal, until this weekend.

While enjoying the company and discussing opportunities and ambitions, I was struck by an idea that involved someone from my past. I needed to call James.

Long story short?

While attempting to explain my motives, some information was provided that led him to the same site you’re staring at now. In less than an hour, James blew through every entry tagged to ‘his’ category on my blog.


I’ve kept this a secret since July. He knew I was writing but never asked for specifics. I didn’t hint at or wish for him to find it. This has been my safe haven. I dish every ounce of bitterness, every piece of heartbreak or frustration, and do so with no fear. At the end of his smile, or between his words and deafening absences, I come here to get it off my chest. Now, he’s privy to see it too.

He found me. He found my secrets. Today, I sit at home feeling as if I’m somewhere else, standing in front of him, naked, asking him to make some judgment. Yet instead of a response, critique, or judgment, I’ve been given apathy. Tell me that doesn’t hurt so I can tell you that you’ve never actually had someone who you care about act indifferent.

I can see him now. Sitting at home, reading this from his phone, rolling his eyes at the dramatic language I’m using.

Are you there, James? It’s me, Fina, telling you that I do truly hate the hold you have over me. I’ve tried to let it go. I’ve tried to move forward. And I’m going to keep going. But you rocked my world today when you told me that my words had already vanished from your memory and you weren’t mad that I’d written what I had. Maybe you should have told me I was crazy, or stupid, or dishonest. Maybe you could have told me that you thought my perspective was biased. I would have loved to hear your thoughts on my “I Win” post and questions, or been given a piece of your mind about what it’s like to be the guy who claims the piece of ass he’s been after for two years, only to walk away because you conquered me.

I want to shout these things. But I know it’s not worth it.

I’m not sure that he’ll ever return to my blog. And if he does, in all honesty, I don’t want to know what the fuck he thinks anymore. His inability to connect on any level today royally screwed up any later conversations we might have. I’m defensive. I’m pissed. And I want to scream that he’s a complete and total fuck. I want my lungs to hurt. Not my heart.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I know him well enough to know that he’s not going to come out and tell me everything he’s thinking. Shit, his thoughts are probably ever-changing. But at the same time, that sort of “oh well” mentality irks me more than anything. He probably had a few thoughts he didn’t share. And that’s fine…because I did too. But I also didn’t act like this didn’t bother me. Because that would be a lie.

Rewind to the part where I said that I was standing in front of him naked. I would rather him turn up his nose and tell me that I’m fat or gross or that he hates the tattoo on my lower back than say nothing at all. And that’s what I got. I don’t have to turn him on. I just want to turn him in some direction.

The kicker? My words, he said, had the same effect on him that they would if I told him that I threw away his bubble gum.

I’m chewed up, spit out, and left to wallow in the garbage that such a comment stirred in my soul.

This anger has been owned today. And I’ll abandon it tomorrow. But right now I’m pissed and hurt. And James is to blame. I knew, eventually, he would find out about my corner of the Internet. I just expected a reaction.

Part of me wonders if I’m writing this now to get him to react. But we all know that this is how I deal. I don’t shy away from pain or truth. A new pair of eyes being here isn’t going to change that. Ever.

How’s that for bold?

Oh yeah, he said he loved reading the comments after each post. Show him what’s up, friends. I’m sure you have thoughts you would like to share too.


39 thoughts on “Chewed

  1. Ouch. No response is pretty awful. You’ve written out some strong emotions here, and I would expect something other than apathy.

    Not sure what to say other than I hope tomorrow is better.

  2. Oh, lovely. Our men are one in the same. Don’t you think he knows you want a reaction? Don’t you think he knows it’s the one thing he can control? Silly, girl. You have all the power here. Be mad today and let it go tomorrow. The point is: You feel, and so you’ll move on from this place. He’s stuck here forever.

    • Beck,

      I agree. But doesn’t it, sometimes, hurt you to realize that someone you care about is ‘stuck’? Perhaps that’s why I stayed with Ike so long. Maybe I need a mental overhaul. I can’t fix or change his reaction. But at least I feel something.


      • Well, yes. And that’s what draws us to these types. We think we can “fix” or “help.” But you can’t. And the sooner you admit that to yourself, the happier you’ll be. Honest.
        And he is an ass.

      • I’ve seen ass: it’s the guy who slammed my head into a concrete wall and left me in the basement to ‘fix’ myself up before putting his daughter to bed. Perhaps he’s a different kind of ass, but it’s hard for me to call him that when I’ve dealt with much worse. Perhaps it’s time to reevaluate what I’ll accept. It’s my fault that I allow someone to treat me that way, isn’t it?

        Does that make him an ass or does that make me an idiot? I’m not sure how to answer that. Either way, something has to change.

  3. Okay, maybe not an ass. I don’t know him. But seriously – no reaction? That’s unlikely. He either doesn’t care about you at all or he’s trying to push your buttons by not reacting. That’s what I’m seeing from the outside, which, obviously, is a very limited viewpoint.

  4. *Sigh* Oh Fina. *Hugs*
    This reminds me of when I finally told a man (a very special man) that I was in love with him and he said “I know” and with those two little words.. all my feelings and emotions towards him didn’t matter to him.. and I realized we would never be what I wanted us to be. Hell.. We weren’t even a “we”.

    I am so very sorry for his response. Silence is worse than words because silence makes your mind make up things. The WORST of things.

    He doesn’t deserve you.. He didn’t deserve to read your feelings.. And he deserves no more attention from you.

    Right now he feels he’s won because he read your beautiful words and realized how much he meant to you and how much control he had. Well.. Eff you James. Eff you. I don’t like you and what you did to my amazing friend. She is out of YOUR league and you will never ever find someone as amazing as her.

    Love you Fina. Stay strong.. beautiful.. and true.

    • I think everyone deserves honesty, lovebird. While he might not deserve the treatment he’s been awarded (because his treatment is not equal), I refuse to act as if I should treat him poorly. Nobody deserves that.

      One day at a time. Thanks for swinging by today. I love you, dear friend.


  5. I feel the sadness tonight… The Adele track is very fitting, every time I hear it my thoughts will turn to you. Soldier on dear Fina.

  6. many of us that have written under pseudonym have had similar experiences.

    you could have had many reactions, but you wrote.

    and you’ll keep writing…therefore…you’ll always “win.” for yourself.


  7. He who reacts less has the most power.

    Fina, you deserve a reaction. Maybe not from him…

    Love to you, darling. You are beautiful.

    No, really. Don’t be smug about it. You are _beautiful_.

  8. It is hard to play nice when we all know what a wonderful person and friend he is missing out on. This is a powerful and painful realization, that not only is he now in your world here on the internet, but now you are forced back into his. I am sorry that happened. It may have all been inevitable but it doesn’t take the sting out. I can scream “your loss James” from the top of every mountain, and it still would not matter. It is true though, his loss… and the best part is, he knows it too. Sadly, all this is just another wall to his ego and another reason why he won’t give in. He is not yet ready to grow up.

    Here is your solace… and in this realm, you are always good enough. You are deeply loved. ♥

  9. I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean he didn’t deserve honesty.. It was more like he didn’t really deserve to see the vulnerability in your words about him. For him to give no reaction is almost like your words meant nothing to him. They meant something very strong for me and that’s why I get defensive about you.
    I don’t have a Twitter anymore but I will always read for however long you allow me to. You are my friend and I’d like to keep in touch.
    Stay strong bug.. I’ll always be here rooting you on! Your too amazing to not have some loyal fans!

    • I’m sad you left Twitter but happy we can still talk. I love our friendship too, muffin. You’re welcome ANY time you want to swing by my site. Don’t be a stranger. I’ll miss you too much. 😉

  10. I love what you wrote! You always capture me with your honesty, I love you my friend! Oh and lets do more face to face if we can.

  11. I’m late to the party… fashionably so?

    Love dims when it cannot flow. Love does not bloom in absence of reciprocation.

    I’m as fallible as you but I have to say, stop. Stop parading your heart. Stop grasping. For him.

    He isn’t and won’t. Ever. Until you have moved on and he realizes that you aren’t spending any more of your precious energy on him. Until he notices the silence. Then he may come scratching at your door. Anyway, this is not about him.

    Love is so much about timing and balance of passion. A love forced is not authentic. Love fails as an agenda. The harder you look for it, the more elusive it becomes.

    Love is giving bits of your heart, slowly, and finding his sprinkled in your hair. You know this. Wait for it.

    Don’t hate. Don’t fret. Just. Move. On.

    Never trade that gorgeous smile for a frown. Not for him.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s