The Heart Break Files, part 11

The days passed on and I couldn’t bring myself to write about the feelings I was having. I was completely destroyed by the “rebirth” of Jesse. The more I wrote about it, the more it lingered. I waited in hope for the Pumpkin Festival. I had invited him to attend before the final email and deep down, I knew it was a closed book if he chose not to attend. My relationship with Ruben stayed in limbo. Lexi’s 4th birthday came and went as I secretly held out hope for the third weekend in October. It was the Friday before, as we drove to Half Moon Bay, that I realized, I was doing the exact thing I wanted to avoid: I was pulling away from my husband as I was trying to pull away from my memories. My heart could be in love with two men or not at all but I was having a hard time clearing out the space for just one man to hold my heart.

Ruben and I never did have the conversation that needed to be had about where we stood. It seemed obvious that there was work to be done but we had to rebuild a trust in the relationship we had before we could work on the issues safely.

Saturday morning, after a visit to the local coffee shop, I got the kids into their costumes and braced myself for finality. I put in my mind that if Jesse came to the parade, then I had to face him and the emotions that would come with. If he was not, I had to let go. Let go of Jesse, let go of the memories, let go of the hope, let go of the heart break.

I never saw him at the festival. Not during the parade or the day after. If he was there, I would never know. But I do know that my heart didn’t let go the way I had promised myself I would let it.

I wanted to write to him and ask him why. I wanted to tell him how I felt. I wanted to break through the lack of communication.
I didn’t.

I let days and weeks pass and most of the time, the moments spent on memories would flutter past. I would catch myself reliving a moment, only to realize it was wasted time. I found myself looking at my husband with a softer look than ever before. He was the safe bet. He had always been there, always stood by, always put up with the highs and lows.

Over Thanksgiving, we travelled up to Ruben’s family in the east bay, and I thought of Jesse and possibly running into him – I couldn’t believe that I still held out hope that he was watching. I had to know that he didn’t care. And more importantly, I shouldn’t care.

Even now, months later, I find myself unable to say that the heart break is over but I do know that the journey with Jesse is over. There is no hope to be had.

My family went through hell and back with my emotional roller coaster and it was unfair for them. I pray that Ruben and I live a long happy life together because I would not wish another heart break like that on anyone, especially my children.

I guess the only thing left to say is:
Goodbye Jesse and good riddance.