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... funny thing is...

... then again, considering the source I really should not be surprised.

Today I received an angry e-mail from <drum roll, please> FF or "former fiance" - [the intelligent and sexy alcoholic who wouldn't admit his problem, tried AA, lied about attending, and decided it was easier to hide drinking a fifth, quart or whatever-it-is of Jim Beam in his room at home rather than face the bullshit and get a handle on his problem.  (I say that because he confessed to "only having had a drinking problem during and after my marriage of four years..."  I met him a couple years post-marriage/divorce and his "only" problem was that he was - still - a drinker.]

Against ALL my internal signals I tied the blinders on very snug and dated this man for several years, even weakly accepted a marriage-cum-sobriety proposal one Valentine's Day weekend about three years ago....  At 40-something I knew better.  When his lying became unbearable I finally had enough and Break-Up Attempt #1 happened. 

As of last summer I think I was up to about eight FAILED attempts.  Eight.  Simple math - make that, what? - about two or three times a year?  Sweet Jesus.  Who has the addiction here??

Unfortunately, I'm what  some people call "too nice."  Others call it "stupid."   Still others call it, "indifferent and ambivalent"... if only they knew. <sigh>  If I had a therapist s/he'd say I was co-dependent.   Because of this character flaw  the break-up process (if you can call it an actual process) took longer than the actual good/fun part of the relationship (which was in the very beginning).  As of last summer we were at five years.   The first six months was a mix of great attraction and passion with a healthy panic on my part as I tried internally to work out the details of his closet drinking (which I hated, and instead of learning how to deal with it - which would have been to break with him completely ) but I donned the old blinders and stayed.  The second and third year we did things together - a few family dinners, a holiday dinner (my mother made that into a disaster and, sadly, I reacted the way I always have... poorly); we went on a group camping trip with his long-time friends; a couple get away weekends to a charming fishing shack in Napeague Bay.  We had fun when I wasn't worrying in the back of my mind, about whether or not he was being honest.... 

What made things worse for me was that being alone together was fine.  We cooked, drew or read together or separately, took walks, sat in front of the fireplace; sometimes we read to each other.  I loved those times - they were safe and sober and peaceful.  They were what I'd hoped to have from the start. 

Inside I knew:  The unspoken truth has always been that the ultimate source of our demise would be his issue(s) and how he shat on my trust.  (Which is partially my fault for staying after it happened a second, third, fourth time....)  And the fact that I am at my core not able (which is not "can't" or "don't want to" or "won't") to be any closer. 

No amount of love, sex, food preparation, offers to do laundry, or offers to 'just trust' him were enough.  Nor was there anything I could do, say, be, act-as-if, pray for, draw-the-line about that would miraculously brign back my ability to trust.  He wants more time and affection than I am willing to give.  And I don't like being pushed or told how I should be scheduling my free time; or that I should be going to therapy (in order to find a way to be with him), or being told if I'd 'just listen' or 'just spend more time' or 'just do what I suggested'.   

I am not an addict.  I'm pretty bad at hiding stuff.  I keep a blog and had a '365' project, and a page on StumbleUpon... not hiding.  And he might agree with one exception.  I have vanished slowly rather than pull the band-aid that holds literally nothing in place.  I do care for and love him;  but he is not the right man for me.

It's not a match no matter how many times he proclaims love or a need to be needed, or that we can just sleep together whenever I'm missing him... No.  I cannot drag us through anymore, no matter how I did it before - through the "maybe this time" of experience.

This, after alternately writing how much he understood my need to separate, have my space, cultivate my hobbies and friendships, be independent,  But he doesn't understand.  He doesn't like what I have to say because it leaves him with nothing but his addiction, feelings of abandonment (which are crippling for many people), and the plain truth (in place long before we met). 

I'd hoped my feelings would change on their own.

And I am no longer able  to do it anymore.  Again.