So yesterday I wrote about how incredibly happy I am with my life with L.  And I have been for quite some time now.  Right from the beginning everything felt so right.  But I don’t mean to cast a shadow over the not so perfect times.  Mostly my own doing.  When The Crazy comes out.

The first time the crazy came out was St. Patrick’s Day weekend last year.  L and I had only been dating for about a month.  On our way back from a Chairman of the Board concert, my former roommate, LM, made the drunken exclamation that she wanted to have sex on the ladder of her then-boyfriend’s fire truck.  (He and L were friends that’s how LM and him met)  L, mostly sober, said “do it on the hose bed, it’s way more comfortable than the ladder.”

I was the driver that night.  I did not like this comment.  Mostly because I now knew that he had had sex with his ex-girlfriend on the hosebed of a fire truck at some point in his life.  And I know who it was because he’s only been with one other person.  I kind of shut down for the night.  Didn’t want to talk about anything.

Obviously he has a past.  Every one does.  And I need to get past that.  And I’m working on it.  But I think part of my problem.  Actually, a large part of my problem is that I don’t have a past like he does.  I never dated anyone seriously before him.  I had some flings in college, but it was mostly me just getting used.  I started a long distance relationship the fall before I met L, which only last about a month and a half, and didn’t end in the best way.  And by ‘didn’t end in the best way,’ I really mean he said “ok, I’ll call you tommorrow.”  A year and a half later, I still haven’t gotten that call.

So needless to say, I obviously have some insecurities.  L’s situation was different.  He dated this girl for 6 1/2 years.  They lived together for the last year and a half.  They talked about getting married and she got mad when he decided to buy a new truck rather than buying her a ring.  They broke up because he caught her in a bunch of lies.  Turns out, she had been cheating on him.  He and I met at the end of January.  They had broken up right before Thanksgiving.  She had moved out, but her stuff was still there until right after Christmas.

The Crazy came out again a couple months later.  One night when I was over his house, he went out on a call with the volunteers.  I took this opportunity to snoop.  I know I shouldn’t have.  But I did.  At the back of a top, mostly empty save for a few pairs of socks, dresser drawer, I found a small pile of photos turned upside down.  They were of her and him.  We’d been dating for a few months at this point.  I know that they were together for a long time and that he and I hadn’t been dating for that long, but why were they so accessible.  I obviously couldn’t say anything because I found them while I was snooping.  I could feel the heat growing in my face and a knot forming in my stomach.  When he got back from the call I was laying on the couch watching TV.  It was hard for me to talk.  I was so upset.  He knew something was wrong, but I wouldn’t tell him what.

 I tried to talk myself out of it.  Maybe he just forgot they were there.

A few weeks later we were laying in bed before we went to sleep and he was telling me a story.  He reached into his nightstand drawer to pull out a picture to show me about what he was talking about.  As he was looking for it.  He said outloud, but to himself, ‘oh, I need to get rid of these.’  I assumed they were more pictures.

The next morning he was going to work too.  That meant he left before me and I staye to get ready before I had to go to work.  As soon as he left, I went to the drawer to see what it was.  Sure enough.  Pictures of him and her.

A few days after this, I looked in the nightstand drawer to see if they were gone.  They were.  Then I thought, ‘oh maybe he remembered the other ones and got rid of those too.’  I opened the drawer where I found the original pictures.  They were still there.  Along with the pictures from the nightstand.  My face grew hot again.  I wanted to cry.  But I still couldn’t say anything.

I can sort of understand keeping them.  But box them up and put them on a shelf.  Don’t keep them in your dresser drawer.

A while after this a bunch of us were at a concert.  LM’s then-bf saw his ex-gf.  She was sitting right near us and he was all pissed off at us.  We had been tailgating and drinking.  L said to me, ‘don’t worry, we may see his ex-girlfriend, but we’ll never see mine.’

I then, with the help of my good friend Bud Lite, decided it was an appropriate time to bring up the pictures.  I was very tipsy and I knew L was quite drunk.  I asked him about it and he said he got rid of them.  I called him out on his lie and he said he forgot about some of the pictures and just moved them.  He told me he kept them because that was a large portion of his life.  This was over the span of ten minutes or so, not the 2 seconds it took to write that sentence.  I was in tears.  L was going to throw up (from the alcohol, not me.  Ha).  I walked him to the car.  Where we spent the remainder of the concert until I had sobered up a few hours later and could drive home.

The next morning I was so afraid he was not going to be in my bed when I woke up.

Even in my hungover state, I awoke at 7am.  L was still there, but I couldn’t lay there so I got up to take a shower.  When I got out and was drying off there was a knock on the door.  I opened it, my eyes still red and puffy from crying so much the night before.  Before I saw him, I was sure he was going to have his things in his hands and be leaving.  But what I saw was this tall boy with squinty eyes and a sad face. 

“I’ll understand if you want me to leave and not come back,” he said to me. 

I told him that that’s the last thing I wanted.  He pulled me into a hug and we stayed like that until he had to go lay down because he was hungover as hell and had the spins.

The pictures were supposedly going to be thrown away.  When I went to his house next, I looked for them, but didn’t find them.  I figured he just hid them better.  I looked everywhere.

This would happen on and off.  I would freak out about something.  How I wasn’t good enough.  Or his family didn’t like me.  It normally happens at night.  When we’re going to sleep.  I sob uncontrollably and he holds me and tells me that whatever I am saying is not true.  That he loves me more than words can describe.  That he would be lost without me.  That that part of his life isn’t important to him anymore and that he’s glad that it ended because otherwise he wouldn’t have met me.

It keeps kept happens.  I found other stuff that was hers in the house.  In the bedside table on my side of the bed.  There was a box that had some items that looked like they had been made in a ceramics class in high school.  In the coat closet in the foyer there was a large garbage bag.  I never opened it, but from feeling it, I could tell that it was probably filled with formal dresses.  A girl knows tulle. 🙂  There were some notebooks from highschool and a magazine. 

The magazine that had her last name.

Which I then googled.

And facebooked.

And myspaced.

I’m not crazy.  I swear.

During one of the crazy moments, the stuff in the closet and night stand came up.  The closet was stuff she left and never came back for.  I told him to give it back.  Bring it to goodwill.  Throw it away.  But for it not to be there.  That I was being haunted by this.  That I felt like she was still there.  He said he would take care of it.  But he said he wanted to keep the decorative stuff in the night stand.  He wanted to put it out in the house because he didn’t have any decorations.  I told him that I couldn’t look at it.  That I couldn’t see it every time I came over.  That it would constantly remind me of her.  And that if it reminded me of her, then surely it would remind him of her.  I told him I would buy him new stuff to decorate. 

He said he would get rid of it.  And he did.  But I didn’t believe him.  I searched for it.  High and low.  In other moments of Crazy I told him I didn’t believe that he got rid of all of the pictures and stuff.  That he put it somewhere that I wouldn’t find.  Or brought it to his parents house.  Or something.  He assured me it was gone.  That the pictures had been gone.  In the trash.  For a long time.  That they weren’t somewhere I wouldn’t find them.  That nothing was at his parent’s house.

He promised me he hadn’t lied to me about anything since then and apologized over and over and over again for lying to me about the pictures.  And I believe him.  But in the backof my mind, it makes it hard for me to get past.

I think I just have a lot of insecurities.  And that whenever I thought things would be going right, I would get screwed over.  And that that will happen again.  I try to tell him this and he asks me if he’s ever treated me like any of those people.  When I tell him no, he says he never will either.

He is the sweetest person in the whole world.  And he truly cares about me.  And I love him so much.  And inbetween all these Crazy spells, things are so magical.

I know it’s not an act.  A lot of the time it happens when we’re drinking.  Probably because I have no filter on my mouth then.  We were at the beach one time.  We were talking about a New Year’s Eve in the past and one of his friends who was always cheating on his now-wife.  And that L had kissed this girl once.  He’s told me this story before.  I thought it was the NYE right before I met him.  When he was no longer dating her and this guy and girl were engaged.  I told him how I thought it was wrong.  They were engaged.  He said they weren’t, that they were just dating.  It had happened when he was still dating her. 

This sent me spiraling down.  Almost defending her.  How could he be so mad at her for cheating if he did the same thing?  He told me he would never do that to me.  I said she probably never thought you’d do that to her either. 

We eventually went back to our condo, still crying.  When he starts crying.  Sobbing.  Asking God not to take me away from him because he loves me so much.  And on and on and on.

He is very aware that to me, one kiss is cheating.  And that I will not stand for that.  And I know he wouldn’t do that to me.

Because I know that what we have is so much better than what he had with her.  He’s told me that.  And I believe him.

It happened again on NYE this year.  I started crying for absolutely no reason.  He took me home when we should have actually stayed at our friend’s house.  I left the bed during all of it and went to sleep on the couch.  He grabbed me by the arm in the hallway trying stop me.  We spent the next hour sitting on the floor of the hall.

I told him I didn’t care if his parents didn’t like me.  That if we got married, I am not compromising my religion because his parents don’t like it.  Among so many other things.  So many other things that have been regurgitated (sp?) a million times before.

When it’s over, we’re always OK.  I know we’re meant to be together and that he loves me as much as he says he does because there is no way he could or would put up with all of this if he didn’t love me that much.

Things were getting better.  We got our puppies.  I was starting to get over things.  I told myself that he had a past and to just get over it.

Then when we first got our puppies he called Dixie “Daisey.”  Daisey was the name of one of the cats he had with her.  Ok, they sort of sound the same.  I didn’t like it, but didn’t make a huge deal about it.  Until it happened a few more times sporadically (FYI, the word sporadic will always remind me of the movie “Clueless”).  I expressed my discontent. 

Why was he doing this?  Does he still think about her?  Are our dogs not as good?  Is that why you wanted two puppies, so it would be like the two cats?  Am I just here to fill a space?  To be someone to stand at the other sink?  To sleep on the other side of the bed?  To be someone to call your girlfriend?

I was spiralling.  He told me he didn’t know why it happened.  None of the above was the case.  He wanted two puppies so they could play with each other while we’re not home.  He promised it wouldn’t happen again.

Then one morning I was getting ready for work.  He had taken the dogs out and gave them breakfast.  He came into the bathroom.  “You’re never going to believe what Dash did.”

Dash was the other cat.

Dash and Shep sound nothing alike.  Nothing.  I was pissed.  So mad.  I rolled his eyes and went to go back to sleep.  He didn’t understand why this made me so angry.  But I wasn’t going to let it go.  We got into it.  I tried to explain what it made me feel when I heard that.  That he kept making that part of his life part of our life every time he did it.  And that’s not what I wanted.  There was more crying.  I told him I couldn’t do this anymore if he kept saying things like that.  That he had to promise never to do it again.  And he did promise. 

And I was 45 minutes late to work.

Things were so much better.  When we went out for my birthday, everything went away that night.  I was cool with it all.  There was no burden hanging over my head.  I didn’t wonder about different things from time to time.

Then 5 days later we were going to meet downtown to go see Stomp.  He called me shortly before I was going to leave the office.  “Your Daisey-dog has been bad.”

I hung up.

He called back.  I didn’t answer.  He called back again.  I picked up the receiver and put it back down.  He kept calling and I finally answered.  “I’m sorry” he said.  In a tone that didn’t necessarily sound sincere to me,  but rather bothered.  I told him again how hurt I was that this kept happening.  That if it happened again, I was leaving and I meant it.  That I, nor the puppies, deserve that.  He told me it slipped because he’s so concerned about saying the wrong name and upsetting me.

I was pretty quiet during dinner and the show.  It kind of ruined my evening.

It turned into more at home.  It shouldn’t be an issue to call them the right name.  And if he’s so concerned about calling them the right name, does he have to make sure he doesn’t call me the wrong name?

Things have been better since then though.  But it the freeing feeling that felt after my birthday celebration was gone.  I’m trying to get past it again.  But it’s hard.  I’m doing much better this week than before though.

But then he says all these wonderful things.  You’re the love of my life.  I love you more than anything in this world.  I want to spend the rest of my life with you.  You are  my everything.

And I wonder how many times he said that to her.  He tells me that he never told her she was the love of his life.  But you still discussed marriage with her.  Not like you and I have discussed it though.  This happened Sunday night.  It wasn’t the usual sob fest though.  Just a short conversation.

When his alarm went off Monday morning he grabbed me and told me how much he loved me.  But that more than anything he wanted me to be happy.  To not worry about all of this.  That he wanted it to go away.  For my sake.

I texted him yesterday at lunch.  “Have you ever asked anyone else (meaning her) to send you pictures of sparkly things (meaning engagement rings) like you asked me to send you the other day?”

His respsonse:  You are the only one I’ve asked that.  You are teh only one I’ve looked for sparklies online and in the store for

Me: Really?

Him: Absolutely!  I swear to God on the Holy Bible.

He was working yesterday, so I didn’t see him, but I had another question.  I didn’t want to ask when I wasn’t with him, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to wait until tonight.

We were talking before we both went to bed and he told me he love me more than anything in this world.  I told him I loved him so much too, but that I had one question.

“If you knew how much it sucked to be lied to, and how much it sucked to catch someone in a lie, then why did you lie to me?”

He didn’t know.  But he has never done it since then.  And will never ever do it again.  It was such a horrible mistake he made.  And he never wanted to hurt me like that.

I feel even better today.  And I’ve felt so happy in the past.  I think it’s just the way I’ve been treated before him that makes me question these things.

I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with this boy.  I adore him and he is my best friend.

There have been more incidents than the ones I described.  I’ve also changed my birth control to see if that would help.  I think it has a little, so we’ll see.  It’s only been a month.

But I do know that I can’t wait to go home and see him tonight.  I do know that I miss him so much when I’m not with him.  I do know that I am so glad that I chose to move in with him when he asked.

I do know that I never thought I could love anyone the way I love him.

Also, I really wrote this for me.  To get it out.  And if you’ve actually read this far – you need a gold star!  Thanks for listening to me babble.  I know this wasn’t very well written either.

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