Skeleton 7: Infatuation Online
This skeleton is painful for me. I won't lie. It affected me recently, and I need to just set it free. I thought I would just throw this skeleton in the closet and sit with it. I am starting to hate secrets more and more. The more recent it is, the more I want to just get rid of it and walk away. I debated whether or not to give this some time. Unfortunately, there is no good time to get rid of pain and secrets. I can't learn from my mistakes that way. This skeleton is simple. I seem to be having my share of "crashing and burning" recently. I think I was looking for the wrong thing and stumbled across something that was positive. I'm sick to think it's all over.

I actually met this guy on Twitter, and noticed he was struggling in his life. Call it intuition, but I can just see these things. I decided to see if he wanted to instant message me on Yahoo, and soon, a message popped up. After about a half hour of talking, I could just see this guy was testing me to see if he could trust me. I just cut through the crap and just told him what I saw about him. Pain and screaming loneliness. That along with some other points of insight seem to have surprised him. That's how it all started.
We talked a lot after that. I didn't exactly expect to have feelings for him. I tried desperately to ignore them, and concentrate on a friendship. I wanted to make sure I wasn't just starving for attention. He was my intellectual equal, accepted me for who I was, and actually liked me. I felt I didn't have to pretend or guard myself. I trusted him, completely.
That's how infatuation starts online. I knew that's what this was. He lived several states away from me, and I knew that a relationship would have to remain virtual as long as I was still married. He was convincing. I wanted it. He made me feel like a better person. I started to believe in myself. Started to grow as a person. I will never forget him because of that.
Without actually meeting a person in real life, realistically you can't say you love someone. That feeling of infatuation is so sneaky. It just starts invading your life and tricks you into thinking you may love someone. Rationally, I know this isn't true. It's rationality I didn't want to feel, but it nagged in the background as a warning. I was far from rational. That's what happens when you don't meet someone face to face. It's so addicting talking to someone, seeing the pictures of their smile or seeing them on webcam. It's the illusion of being close while still being safe. This also is a double-edged sword. You truly don't know if they're telling you the truth. It's whatever they can present to you as truth. Unfortunately, that's the risk. They could lie.
Finally, after noticing some distance, and a couple of "white lies" wrapped in an excuse, I confronted him. I hoped it was just my insecurity, but alas, it wasn't. My intuition was correct. The next day, I got the email everyone dreads. It's the "I love you, but" letter. Realization staring me in the face. He'd found someone new, closer to where he is. I was devastated.

The "I love you, but" letter hurt me so much. I thought I was in love with him. I trusted him. I was genuine with him. It didn't matter. He wasn't ever going to be available. He wasn't willing to wait for me. I didn't matter, and that's the most painful. He had needs that obviously I wasn't ever going to fulfill. Everything felt like a lie. It felt like all the happiness in my life died. What to believe and what not to believe? It doesn't matter. The result is the same. Devastation. Pain. Hurt. Sadness. I want to just rip my heart out of my chest so I don't have to feel this. My first true heartbreak after my marriage failed. I sense there's going to be many more of these in store for me. I just want to curl up and protect myself. Fall back into the pattern of holding people at arm's length so I don't get hurt. Shut down every possibility of happiness to prevent the other shoe from dropping. That's the safe Nicole, the pattern I learned and mastered. I don't want that pattern anymore. I'm going to throw it away and fight to not use it again. I just wish this didn't hurt so much.

I'm struggling with my foray into online infatuation. I feel like I lost a friend. I lost someone I felt good to talk with. Someone whom I thought cared about me. It hurts. But like much of the growth in my life, some of it requires risk. Not all of that risk means you succeed. There are some risks that end in pain. The difference is, I'm learning how to get up, just brush off my jeans, and go on. I realize that sometimes not everything is my fault. I can't be the one that's flawed. I'm not unlovable. I'm really a wonderfully caring, loving, and understanding person. Sadly, he's never going to know how much I was worth the wait.


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