Not over it

I have forgiven Jimmie about what happened. But I can’t seem to get over it.
I have a residual hurt, one that was manifesting as actual chest pain - after praying to Aine it went away. But then when I try to go to sleep at night... this happens.

I’m still so confused as to why it happened. Why did he caress my leg? To make me relax before he practically threw me away from him? I still don’t know how I didn’t hit that side table corner. I honestly think someone (SG, one of my fair friends, one of my gods... SOMEONE) pulled me just enough so that I missed it. I owe them a thank you.

And then there was what he said.

I know. I know. He was drunk.

 But I honestly think that some of the things we say when we are drunk and critically looking at our own situation and the situation of others... we become brutally honest. And he said he didn’t love me.

He says he does. D swears that people say things they don’t mean when drunk. But he didn’t say it to me... he wasn’t trying to hurt me. He was making a sad observation. And when I closed my eyes to sleep tonight I can see him.

Siting there in the living room. Looking distantly over the board of catan. Sad. And I can hear him say those words. “I don’t love her... I don’t love my girlfriend.”

The image is so clear in my brain.

I honestly think that’s the part I can’t get over. When I’m with him and he says he loves me, I feel happy... but I don’t trust it. I think that he THINKS he loves me. And he does. But I don’t think he is in love with me anymore. I almost wonder if he ever was. I know that like me, he hates to be left alone. But that’s no reason to date someone.

And he has a habit of just telling people what they want to hear. The afternoon after the incident he told me that he wouldn’t drink anymore (I didn’t make him say that... he volunteered it himself) and it honestly made me feel proud of him and a bit safer, like he really cared to prevent even the slightest possibility of it happening again.

He had a glass of wine after a bad day at work the other night. Granted it was one glass and he was by no means drunk. But he still told me he wouldn’t drink at all until he got help.

He is full of the best intentions but it seems it’s just pretty words to smooth over any discomfort... I want to believe him when he says he loves me.  A part of me does believe it.

A part of me doesn’t.