Mischief
has disappeared again, which is completely expected because he's at home and
not travelling.
The
whatsapp chat lays empty (because he's a psychopath obsessed by confidentiality
and has set the option that deleted messages older than 7 days). I am trying
(and succeeding so far you may say) not to reach out. But what do I get from my
succeeding in not reaching out?
Not much
honestly
Do I
think less about him? I probably do, like 5% less. Not materially lee I would
say. Meaning I still think about him a lot.
I am not
proud of this and I do not think this is smart. To quote Evanescence, "but
who can decide what they dream, and dream I do".
I think
part of the problem is I now feel again I have "a right to win".
Again, I'm not proud of myself, but let me explain.
Over the
past few years I never felt beautiful or sexy or anything and would never have
imagined a man to be interested in me. Men simply did not see me, and it's
funny how sometimes the bigger you become, the more invisible you get.
However,
I should probably mention that at some point in my late teenage years, I
realized I could (at the time) step in any room and if I decided I wanted a
specific man, there was a 95% probability I could have him. (Not something I am
proud of, unsurprisingly, but this is the honest truth, based on statistical
evidence). Unsurprisingly that revelation changed my life because I previously
had been invisible (ugly duckling anyone?).
Now let's
not dwell on my young years, but the reality is that now men see me again. I'm
not claiming I could have anyone I wanted (I also do not want anyone really!)
but now men SEE me again. I get a lot of compliments both from people I see
daily and from people who do not know me, and I have found again self
confidence, which in turns generates attention. Which is funny really because
hey, I'm still the same person, I still dress every day in jeans, a button down
shirt (and a leather jacket now the Indian summer we've had is over) and
sneakers. Every single day.
And the
part of myself I despise most keeps telling me that things would be different
if I had had the current looks back in Mountain View and in San Francisco.
Which is
probably not true because in the (according to the rationale part of me) the
reason Mischief does not want to meet me is he is a good man who has a family
and does not want to cheat on his wife. But the voices in my head say that no,
I was ugly and fat, I'm still ugly and fat, and they would only be sedated by
him drooling on me I guess. At least they would be sedated for five minutes.
The worst
thing in this messy thoughts is that on a lot of awkward situations I am able
to understand if my neurodivergence is spiking or if I'm reacting like a
"normal" person, but when it comes to anything that is sexual or
romantic I really don't know.
I just
know I should stop obsessing but I cannot seem to move forward. If I let the
communications die, I may just start idolizing him into someone that doesn't
even exist. Chasing a man is somewhat below my dignity.
Song for
this post: "Taking over me", Evanescence