Ted and I got divorced. It was finalized in May last year. I still miss him, especially when I forgot to take my meds and the world seems exceedingly dark and hopeless.
Frank decided to move in with his girlfriend and that monogamy wasn't for him (not that he shared the latter with his girlfriend, exactly). I swallowed my sadness and non-existent pride and started sleeping with him whenever he had a moment to spare.
I net someone on a dating service, after several failed attempts, and it seemed hopeful, but alas he has a girlfriend too. And it's not like I can walk away in a wounded huff. Being aware of ones flaws and hypocrisy can be such a tiresome trait. And Mike is sweet and attentive and interesting; what's one little detail to that?
Last night Frank and I repeated an old worn out conversation; why does he come up when I speak with other people? The implication is clear: my behaviour is threatening his life and how do I dare? Why does he come up in conversations with my therapist and my new lover?
Frank has gone to great lengths to separate me from his life: he doesn't want to friend me on Facebook, has even hidden his profile from the search, he doesn't say hello should we unexpectedly meet, doesn't want to follow me on Twitter on even in Google Reader, and has never introduced me to any of his friends. He has never accepted any of my invitations to meet my friends. He tells me that he does this with other people too, he has a solar system of friends and I am one of the outer planets. Like Pluto my definition is always in flux.
When my marriage broke down, Frank disavowed any responsibility. And I figured that that seemed fair. After all it was my actions that put me where I was, my decisions. But he is expecting me not only to keep circling at a distance but to do it quietly because I could (intentionally or not) disrupt his life.