The Final Twist…

I get off on the psychology of people. I find real people far more entertaining than any movie, program, play or fictional story. Real people are complex, interesting to dissect, and can instill deeper raw emotion than much else in existence.

Anyone who knows me well knows this about me. When I read, I read non-fiction, the movies I enjoy most are based on true-stories, and when I’m interacting with people I’m looking a little deeper than the surface.

I took yesterday off work to sort out the issues I was facing. I realized the mistake I made by entering the real ‘twists’ the “Happy Hooker” preceded. For a moment, I forgot the majority of the readers to this blog are UAE based, which in my honest opinion, generally means the audience here is far more judgmental and far less understanding than elsewhere.

I think I need to state this again. This Blog, is mainly for the sake of my entertainment. Not one of you readers should claim to have missed this, at the header:

TAINTED
LOST IN THE UNITED ARAB EMIRATES; LOST IN MY MIND; LOST IN THOUGHTS OF YOU AND HIM; I’M A TAINTED FEMALE, AND SO WILL BE MY BLOG. TRUTHS TAINTED WITH LIES; REALITY TAINTED WITH DREAMS; YOU WILL BE TAINTED BY ME.

If by chance you did miss that, I should hope you saw this in my profile:

My mind plays tricks on me, and I enjoy them; most of the time. I have a dirty mouth, and even dirtier thoughts. I’m a living contradiction. And finally, I’m genuinely bored.

One of the most basic statements is that, I’m pretty much just bored. The significance of that is relevant to the intentional context of this blog. Satisfying that boredom is the response I get from anon, and non-anon commenters. Whether you know it or not; each and every one of you gives me something to think about, something to ponder, regardless of the intention of your words.

Posts like the ones detailing what’s happening in my life, how I’m confused, hurt, shocked, or emotionally distraught over such a certain situation are normally placed in another, more personal Blog, that I maintain on an American based site. It is quite possible it was the defense I gave my ex-fiancée to bloggers that inspired the entry about him admitting to sleeping with them. The truth I was expressing in his defense suddenly became a lie, so I attempted to correct that. Finally, the realization that I had pretty much done the same thing hit me; and the fact that I was acting no more than a hypocrite sunk in. How could I possibly allow readers to think he was trash, and I could do better, when it turns out, we’re pretty much one in the same? It would eat me up inside; allowing anyone to judge him over me in this case; without allowing them all the facts.

That’s how it all spiraled out. Now, I feel obliged to finish telling the story as it played out, since Saturday. I feel obliged to fill in the detail gaps as well. With any luck, this will be the last of such personal stories I post here; thus, I might as well tell it in whole and explain it right.

I have been with the ex-fiancée on and off for almost two years now. About the time I started this blog, I decided it was time to let go of this relationship once and for all. He and I had been apart for more than a month, when he showed up at my door last week.

He came to ask for me back. He came to tell me we could make it work this time. He came because he decided he didn’t want to live his life without me. I had spent the month in separation making new plans for my future that didn’t involve him. I honestly believed I didn’t love him anymore. But that night, emotions I failed to understand took over; and left me confused beyond reason. I didn’t know whether I was willing to take him back or not; and thus the reason I didn’t tell him about the other guy. He was visibly distraught; and I figured there was no sense in making the man suffer more than he was already, if I wasn’t willing to stand by him and help comfort his pain in the long run.

For the record, I’m still not sure what I’m going to do, or what I feel about all of this. And that’s because there’s one more twist to the story that I’ve not yet shared.

When I left the office, he had stopped messaging; his last message a threat to hurt himself. After bearing with his silence for a long while I sent him a message, confessing. He didn’t respond. I sent his bother a message asking him to check on him. His brother replied, saying he was sound asleep. An hour later, he started messaging and calling like mad. Only, there was no reaction to my confession. He kept telling me he loved me, and couldn’t live without me. He kept begging me to speak to him; at least once so he can clear everything up before I decided to walk away for certain.

When I got home, he insisted I let him in to talk. Eventually, I agreed. He sat down, looked at me, and said, “I really fucked up this time.” He put his head in his hands and continued, “I lied about sleeping with them. I swear to God, I did not touch either of them. I just wanted to know if you had been with someone else.”

I don’t know if I believed him, or if I do now, even. At the time, I told him it’s the same bullshit. We’re no good for one another. He responded with, “You showed no jealousy what-so-ever about the other girls who were calling. I needed to see you cared.”

I screamed until the early morning hours. I told him either way, he was still a fucking liar, and that he knew I’d have told him about the other person if I decided we should go ahead and give this relationship another attempt. The last thing I remember before passing out, was telling him no matter how much I hated him at that moment, I was not letting him drive home drunk. I hid the house keys, and told him, “When you wake up in the morning, you leave. I never want to see you again.”

We drank; a lot. It was his first time, ever getting drunk. His biggest concern when he woke was what the Mulla in Saudi was going to scream at him, when he confessed to get an answer on how to repent; and whether or not he was allowed to continue praying.

I woke in my bed, without remembering how I got there. His arms were wrapped around me tightly. I let myself loose, he apologized again, and I couldn’t help but smile.

We spent yesterday together. He promised me he’d never drink again. He still swears up and down he didn’t touch either woman; I’m leaning towards believing that’s the truth, while part of me is inclined to call myself a naive little girl. He seems to regret the massive head-game he played. He claims to have learned something bigger from this charade about him, and I, and us, than he’d ever learned in the past.

I made it clear I am still confused. I made it clear I don’t know whether or not I want to welcome him in my life or my plans for the future, again. He’s decided to be patient while I figure it out, and not allow too much pressure.

That’s the end of this story as far as this Blog is concerned; that’s also where it all stands just now.