I'm a liar....

Maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration.  Maybe...delusional? Or self-serving? Perhaps just, creating part of an alternate reality, not necessarily an ENTIRE alternate reality (like STBX).... but insomuch as I have reread the last few blogs and by God I MEANT them at the time. . . . I probably still mean them, at the core.  I still believe it is okay to have a band-aid. Physical wounds require bandaids, and I believe emotional wounds require them just as well. I guess where I failed was "he started as a band-aid and somewhere along the way amid laughing, talking, cuddling and orgasms, I lost control of the situation only to wake up one day and realize somehow, we'd passed the band-aid stage altogether and i had no idea..." Yeah, well...apparently I let the laughing, talking, cuddling and orgasms cloud my inner sense of self....Because here i sit, in too deep, pretending, as i JUST said in a recent blog, to plug along and deal with bridges as they appear.  Cut to : Bridge.  i got a text today telling me that a job he'd been trying to get since October might actually be coming through. If so, he'll be moving about 2 1/2 hours away.  I got that text. My heart sank. And then.... my mind went reeling.... I've already, in my mind, got his apartment in Alabama, we don't talk anymore and he's sleeping with someone else. .. . in my mind.  I'm thinking about the lack of band-aid that he does still supply, when needed, such as my upcoming court date with STBX.  He (New Boyfriend) forces some sort of emotion out of me.  When i get home, and he's there, I force myself to deal with whatever it is before I have to see him.  And if I don't, he makes me talk about it. 

That's good. It really is. But I'm off on a tangent again.  I'm trying to explain that I have gotten in too deep and now he may be leaving and I doubt we are strong enough to sustain a long distance relationship. . . and i damn well will not be moving with him. I'm just...sick about it. And I have enough to be sick about.  He's supposed to be the good thing in my life. And yes, I know I'm being selfish and unsupportive within myself. But I've managed to maintain an outward supportive appearance.  When the time comes, if it ever does, I can show my ass.  I guess I should take my own advice, and I quote:   The day you realize you might need a bandaid to fix your bandaid is the day you need to grab a cigarette, a brownie or two, maybe even an entire bottle of wine and head onto the back porch to relax for a while. Bandaids only work temporarily. When they start becoming a permanent fixture, you better take inventory and be sure you're ready for the long haul. Otherwise, rip that motherfucker off and toss it in the trash..." 

But I don't want to. I'm not ready to. Doesn't it at least mean something that I REALIZE what i'm doing. I REALIZE that if I keep on I'm just going to end up needing an entire goddamned box of bandaids, one after the other? And if I REALIZE it...then when it happens, when i get my heart completely broken, AGAIN, which I KNEW was going to happen, I can't really bitch about it, can i? Well....I can, but you all do not have to read it. . . So my new advice:  When applying a band-aid, don't fucking listen to me. . . . .