Queer As Folk this week ...

(For the Canadians and Americans - we are only now in season 4 here in Aust.)

Tonights heart-pull was the Mel and Lindsay scene. It was about Lindsay having strayed (with a man no less!) but that she still chose Mel, Gus and ? (Mel is preggers). Mel says she isn't sure whether she still chooses Lindsay.

I know the joy of being chosen (he was going to stay) following a period in which I thought I quite likely would not be (chosen). No, joy is not the right word, ummm errr elation, awe, able to breathe again .. hmm no, words don't really describe it.

I wonder how he felt, having come to that decision.

I know the hell-hole too, of not being chosen (he was going), a mere 4 or 5 days after having been told I was 'chosen' (strangely enough, NOT, after a visit to her during which he told her we had had sex - mind you he only confessed to one time when it was actually more than that. I'm not 'spilling beans' here to stir her up, she knows this now).



There are times that I wish I'd had the strength to say to him that it was too bad if he chose me, cos I wasn't choosing him. But there was no way that I could have done that, not then. Times I wish that when he said those words "I'm going", that I had told him to get out right there and then, even though he had no idea where he was going to go to. Hell, he had given me enough curve balls by then, he certainly deserved to get some thrown his way. But that's not my way.

But I couldn't do that, not to him (stupid me, he had just done it to me!, but that's just not how I am), not to his son (who was at my house that weekend). Sometimes I wonder though whether it was just me being weak, not wanting to put myself through that.

Those two words killed me. I died there on the bed that night as we talked and cried (both of us - and yelled a bit too) and went over (not for the first time) why it wouldn't work for him and her. My soul, who I am (was) died that night. I think his did a little too.

That may sound as though I'm co-dependant (or whatever that term is), but I don't think so. It was my belief that given the opportunity, that he would make the 'right' choice, that was killed that night. He didn't make the right choice - this was proven many many times in the two years that have followed. What was so frustrating is that both of us knew it from the start, we had discussed it on quite a few occassions. And the things that we had discussed came to pass. And we continued to discuss it after he left here, but he continued to make that same choice, over and over and the same things kept on happening that we had discussed.

Through writing my journal (elsewhere as well as here) I've also come to realise that it was my faith in myself that died that night.

I've written before that we had an open relationship, and I know there are some who would say that was the problem, or that I simply chose the wrong person to do it with (or that perhaps I was the wrong person to be doing it - I had returned to being monogamous, yes, but emotionally - not in the usual meaning of monogamous. That looks bad when I read it back, but those who know me/us may know what I mean. He was always my 'home', bah I give up trying to put it into words).

But what it tells me is that I am no good at chosing the right person to 'let in'. I cannot trust my own judgement. This is what he killed that night, my trust in myself. This is why I do not seek another partner, will not let anyone in. Because I cannot allow myself to be put back into that place again.

My beliefs and values were wrong, and were what allowed me to be taken to that place. Tolerance, flexibility, acceptance, patience, trying to adapt myself to new situations to allow another to do what they wanted to do, truth and honesty. He probably thinks I wasn't showing much of those traits, but if I hadn't he would have been out that door long before I finally said that I didn't think he should live here anymore (because it was too painful, too disruptive - for both of us).

No, my beliefs and values simply allowed me to be walked all over like a doormat, fucked-over again and again by the person who was supposed to be my rock and my support.


I still haven't found a way to make that inner core of who I am/what kind of person I am go away. I often wish I had cos then I wouldn't have let him come in November (I really should have learned by then *sighs at stupid self*), wouldn't have replied to the emails and SMS's that Christmas.

I don't know how to be a different me, but being who I am just makes me vulnerable. This is why I live my 'sad/silly little life'. But I'm doing the responsible things, being a good mum, being a good employee, being financially responsible, being a semi-decent 'daughter'. There's just not a lot in it for me. Is that such a sad/silly life?