I'm so hurt, don't htink I'll ever trust again.

Monday 7th June 2004

I have a question. I'm hoping you will have the answer Dear Diary. I'm
not sure exactly what the question is, but I'm damned bloody sure that
I don't sodding well understand it.

First of all, totally unrelated to the point of the entry? but. I
noticed something about myself yesterday. When I feel like a piece of
shit my language gets fucking awful. Only on here though, it's very
rare that I eff and buff in real life. Mind, Martha did try to get a
word in edgeways yesterday when I was ranting about fucking twatting
bastarding, arrogant, pissing, cruel, hurting, bastarding, twatting
fucking men. Then I had to breathe and she said, "Are you upset about
something, Sooz?"

I have been knocked unconscious and raped. I have been sexually abused
by three dirty old men, all pensioners, one totally unconnected to the
other two. From the age of six I had tablets of soap inserted into my
backside. I've had a man who could only ejaculate when he hit me. I've
been called ugly all my life by a constant string of men. I don't think
I've ever had a man who was totally true or faithful to me. I've been
used, to some degree, by every man I've ever spent romantic time with.
Every time someone does something horrible to me and makes me feel bad
about myself, I think, Well lass, it can't get any worse than
this."

The three men in my childhood get the gold medal for sexual abuse. My
first husband gets the silver for physical abuse. Tom gets the bronze
for treating me like a non-entity put on life only to make his better.
But Rick get's the extra bonus medal for the ultimate in psychological
warfare and mind fuck degradation. I don't think anyone has every been
so subtly cruel as he has. I've had all kinds of cruelty but nothing to
date as baffling as this. And baffling doesn't cover it but I'm at loss
for the right words to describe what he's done to me.

So here is the end of the Rick saga. This one is the ultimate end, the
end to follow the first, second and third end. I just hope he comes to
read this. The miserable, Weak, yes, you,' I think I'm so strong' Mr
fucking weakness. You insipid, watered down, pathetic excuse for a
human being. He doesn't like being called weak. And the sad thing is,
I'm not just saying it to hurt him. Though I hope he's hurting plenty.
A real man would never have treated another human being the way he
treated me yesterday.

Okay, so for the last week, surprisingly, or maybe not, it co-incided
with me seeing Alex (more about my second weekend with him later) Rick
has been contacting me more regularly. It started mainly with MSN. They
were short conversations with him running like a terrified child every
time the conversation got sticky for him. It progressed to phone calls.
"I love you, but I can't have you back. I want you. But I won't come to
you. Blah blah fucking bullshit. I'm saying what you want to hear and I
can fuck you over any time I choose to reel you in." I knew last week
that he was weakening. I knew it wasn't going to be a full six months
before I could see him again. I encouraged the contact.

Saturday night/Sunday the phone rang at three in the morning. We talked
until five. He asked me to drive through to him. There were two reasons
why I couldn't. One, I'd been drinking and two, I had my first call at
seven.

This is how deeply I was affected by Rick. I considered going anyway. I
never drink and drive and yet I was wondering if I could manage to
drive there safely. In the end it was only my responsibility to my
clients that stopped me from going to him. I asked him to come to me,
to arrive when I finished work at lunch time yesterday. I knew he
wouldn't.

SWITCH.

I had an email waiting for me when I got in from work. Basically, he
said that he was sorry he'd rung me. That he regretted it and that he'd
only weakened because he'd been drinking.

He came onto MSN. I fired off at him about his mood swings and blowing
hot and cold and he asked me to ring him. I told him all this was doing
my head in and that if he'd just left me alone after the night I went
to Forton, I'd be over him by now.

"Come and see me Sooz. I love you and I don't want to be without you
any longer."

I was so happy, this was what I'd been waiting for. BUT, I had
misgivings. I told him that if I went to him it had to be real. Back
together, no more messing about. I told him that if this was going to
be a one off meeting, then I'd rather wait until November as he'd
asked.

He said "Sooz, I want you. Nobody else compares, please just get
here."

In the past I've sometimes felt unwelcome at his home, so I told him I
wouldn't go where I wasn't wanted and couldn't he come to me.

I swear down this is what he said.

"Sooz. I've got so much to do. I'm really tired after talking to you
all night. It'll take me three hours (round trip) to drive to you, in
that time I can have my lawn mower fixed and start cutting the grass.
I've got to sort Billy's uniform out for tomorrow and get that ironed
and the house needs a bit of work. The kettle's on darling and we can
sit out in the sun and talk when you get here."

Yes, I was irritated, bloody ironing and lawns again, but in a way I
felt that if I wanted him, it illustrated perfectly that he wasn't
going to change and I had to take him, his ironing and his fucking
grass as a package."

I worked every day last week, I did a night shift on Thursday, I went
out both Friday and Saturday. I worked Sunday morning and my house
needed doing. I had to get Marty sorted for school today. I was tired
too.

I've neglected Marty this week. I've always said that our kids come
first. Yesterday, I put Rick well and above Marty. I've hardly seen my
son with one thing and another. He's quite happy, he's made a new mate
and they are inseparable, so when I do get one of them, the other is
always in tow. I made rapid arrangements for Marty to go to a
babysitter? again, promised to make it up to him. I felt guilty but it
didn't change anything.

Like a stupid bitch I trotted off.

In all, the pleasure of being treated like shit cost me over forty quid
yesterday. That's forty pounds that could have gone to our London trip.
I so begrudge that. I put twenty pound in petrol, had to buy credit for
my phone to keep in touch with Marty, I bought a packet of cigs that
Rick asked me to pick up for us on my way through and I had to buy
Marty a pizza and Kebab to bribe him when I got home.

The drive through to him was awful. I hit traffic jams on the motorway
and that was before getting to the Trough of Bowland. I've explained
before that it's a horrible country track up through the moors with
steep drops at either side. I hadn't had time to change or make any
effort with my appearance. I just chucked a clean top on and set
off.

When I got to his house he came round the corner and he looked
brilliant. He is tanned and had on the white shirt I'd bought him.
White suits him. Mind, I've got a thing about men in sandals. There's
just something about a man in sandals that makes them look right
plonkers. I think a barefoot man is sexy, but sandals don't do it for
me at all. He was beaming. His smile was enormous and he looked so
pleased to see me. His first words were.

"Oh Sooz, you look fantastic." Bullshitting bastard.

He came up and cuddled me, we kissed. He held me so tightly and I just
knew everything was going to be alright.

I couldn't speak to him. I couldn't smile, I couldn't look at him. I
was so close to tears and didn't want to make a fool of myself in front
of him and Billy. I waved to Bill, and Rick and I went into the house.
He made coffee. He made a point of using the two 'happy' mugs I bought
for him and Billy. I knew I was going to cry, just seeing that he'd
taken the trouble to use those mugs set me off. I asked if I could go
for a quick wash because I felt grubby. He kept holding me and kissing
me all the time. We went outside for a cig and to talk. I cried for an
hour and couldn't look at him. I said little while he talked. We sat in
one of my favourite places in his garden on a low wall at the front. He
cuddled me and kept holding my hand and telling me how much he loves me
and how much he's missed me. He said that he didn't know how he was
going to feel when he saw me but that when I stepped out of the car I
'blew him away'. He said that he felt so much love for me and had been
miserable without me. He said that seeing the tears on my face broke
his heart. That he'd never make me cry again.

He told me again that he loves me and can't stand the thought of losing
me. I asked him if that meant that we were back together.

SWITCH.

His eyes changed. He let go of my hand.

"I don't Sooz. I just don't know what to say. Everything so confused. I
want you so much "

"But."

Here we go there has to be a but.

"I got you here today to see you one last time."

So what the fuck was the point of that?

I told him I was leaving and he flung himself on the floor in front of
me.

SWITCH

"Sooz, you can't go. I want to try again. Please give me another
chance. I want it to work out."

"So what Are you saying Rick?"

SWITCH

"I don't know. I'm scared of messing it all up.

"Look Rick, I'm sick of all this blowing hot and cold, let's just call
it a day eh?"

SWITCH.

He cried, he cuddled me tightly, he begged me not to give up on him. He
said lots of things. He's going to make it up to me. He's going to be
the best boyfriend I've ever had, He wants a clean slate. He's going to
make time for me. We'll talk through any problems as soon as they
arise. I told him that if he'd decided that he truly wanted to give it
another go then that was it. We were going to be a couple, no going
back and no more pissing about. He said that he was very happy. He told
me that he knew he'd almost blown it and that he was sorry. He said so
much.

He said that he had something important to tell me. He told me that
he'd lied to me and that he had been seeing other women. He did go
straight back onto the site and met two more women from there and then
there's this Janice that has been ongoing throughout. He said he never
slept with any of them. Like a bloody fool I told him that it doesn't
matter. That nothing mattered except a fresh start with a clean slate.
I don't believe him about not sleeping with them.

We had a fantastic afternoon. He got a blanket and we went for a walk
down to the river. We kissed and cuddled and talked. Thank god we
didn't have sex. I'm so grateful to the walkers that periodically
passed along the top path. He asked me to stay the night. I had 'my'
Rick back and he was better than ever before. Everything was going to
be okay. We went back to his. I had a bath while he made dinner. He
understands my problems with eating and just gave me a tiny amount of
each item. Too much, but he tried.

He looked so happy. He was beaming, telling me he loved me. He said
that it was all going to be okay, that he'd missed me so much that he
didn't want to mess it up again. He said that I am his ideal
woman.

After tea we went for a walk in the garden. We were laughing and
joking, he was holding me tightly. We sat on a wall and ?.

SWITCH

Suddenly he pulled away from me.

"You can feel it can't you?"

"What's that then?"

"My mood changing. This is not what I want."

I couldn't believe it. What the fucking hell's wrong with the man? He'd
changed within thirty seconds from being so loved up and full on to
looking as though he was sitting next to a piece of dog shit. He looked
disgusted by me.

I told him not to say another word and that I was going to get my
stuff. I couldn't get out of there fast enough.

I got my stuff together, got in my car and drove away. I drove a
hundred and twenty miles to see him. It cost me forty quid that I can't
afford. He made me so many promises and broke them within two hours. I
have gone over and over every word. Everything we did. Anything that I
could have done to upset him. I can't come up with any answers. In the
five minutes before he changed, nothing altered. Did he object to me
stroking his cat and getting cat hairs on me? Did I insult him when I
suggested that his precious fucking wife's garden would benefit from
bench in a certain place? I was sitting in bare feet. Did he see my
deformed toe once too often and find it repulsive?

I don't know what I said or did to make things change.

WHY?

WHY?

WHY?

I don't understand.

I drove for a few miles, couldn't see where the hell I was going for
tears. I lost the lovely salad he made me about half a mile from his
house. I felt awful ashamed, humiliated, I was just glad that nobody
was driving past at the time. Since my op, I've only been sick twice,
once from one chip that was too fatty and once from a teaspoon full of
chicken Korma that was too rich. I've thrown up with getting too upset
three times now.

I rang him from the 'tower' and told him not to contact me again. I
don't want to see hear or know about the bastard. I won't be driving to
Forton on the 26th November and told him to take another woman there. I
couldn't give a shit. I hung up before he could start bleating out his
pathetic empty words and crying his meaningless tears. I have nothing
but contempt for the man. He disgusts me. I've deleted him from every
source on my computer. I cut his birthday card to me into little
pieces. It was preferable to cutting myself with a razor blade. His
teddy is in the bin. None of it meant anything.

Maybe he had genuine reasons for wanting one last afternoon together.
But? even that was so selfish. I told him I would only go to him if it
meant an end to the pissing about. How could he do that to someone who
cares about him? He said at one point, "Sooz, how could I hurt someone
I love so much, so badly."

I despise him.

And yet, if he turned up on my doorstep now with the right words, I'd
still have him back. He let me ring Marty and tell him that I was
staying the night and that we were back together. I hate him more for
that, than for any other thing. Marty sobbed last night and said, "I
hate him mum. I want to stab him." Must admit, that made me grin, my
little sociopath in the making.

I despise myself more than I despise him for being such a bloody fool.
I wish I knew what went wrong. I know I was too much for him. I told
him I'd try very hard to change that. He said he didn't want me to
change a thing and that he loved me in spite of it and maybe because of
it.

Do you know what happened Dear Diary, because I'm buggered if I
do.

I want him back so much it stings.