Well, this sucks. Just not me. Someone else.

I don’t even know where to start this… Oh, I know:

First of all, to the wretch of a little man who can’t find his own boyfriend: I have never been so insanely angry at one single person in my life. I truly want nothing better right now than to cause you great amounts of pain, and I don’t know that I am big enough to stop myself from trying if I were to see you out. I considered you a friend and would have never expected you to stab me in the back like this. Are you trying to get back at me because I wouldn’t sleep with you? If you had an ounce of decency in you, you would go and run out in front of a truck. Who sleeps with their friends’ boyfriends? What kind of person are you?

Okay. So arrive this morning after having stayed in all last night (Friday night, no less) trying to get my first memo written for class. Not fun stuff. But I knew that if I wanted to enjoy this weekend with Mitchell, I needed to get it completed. I woke up this morning at 6:30am, packed and got my ass in gear, all the while trying to figure out the best way to buy flowers for him along the way. (all the shops were closed, and the ones at the airport were ghetto… instead I bought him Starbucks). I make my way to Milwaukee, he picks me up, and I notice that his neck is all puffy and bruised… Wait. Those are hickies.

Turns out that I have to twenty-question him to find out that he slept with Al, a friend I had made over the summer. (I am less concerned because it was Al, but I am more pissed that Al would betray me like that). We take a VERY long route home, and try to talk through it. I am way way more pissed about the inconsiderate nature of having someone in the bed the night before I show up and leaving evidence on his body. What the Fuck? This trip meant SO much to me, and I went through great efforts that I would be able to focus on Mitchell during it. And he can’t resist someone the night before I come back to his home? At one point I very pointedly asked him if he had even changed the sheets. Jesus. Now I have to stare at his neck all weekend. I am not even sure that I can sleep with him. I just tried to take a nap with him, and ended up waking up with a heart-pounding rage that I cannot even remember ever having before, wanting to break Al’s legs. It doesn’t seem inappropriate to me at all. Even now, I am thinking about how easy it would be to have some of my MU buddies scare the shit out of him. Some of my old friends would rather enjoy doing that for me too.

I called Justine, then Meg (new law school friend) then Jeff. Thank God for Jeff, because he KNOWS this stuff. He is good at seeing the balance between love and sex, and recognizing what lies between and beneath all of these things. If I had gone to talk to Mitchell after hanging up with Justine, I probably would have broken up with him then and there. “You deserve somebody who will treat you with the consideration you have always had for others. This sort of selfish move is not acceptable.” Good thing Jeff evened my keel. Justine is not wrong. I do deserve those things. But I don’t know that this event indicates that I can’t get that from Mitchell. Maybe I am wrong, in which case I will look back on this day as a very sad omen. Although, I am not sure how else to look back upon it.

I have forgiven Mitchell’s end of it. We all screw up. He and I have a future together, and that is not altered by a night of indiscretion. He feels badly. He knows, and saw, how hurt this whole thing made me. I think his future extra-relationship dalliances will be a bit more discrete. Now I am just trying to wrap my head around trying to feel like normal with him again, like he isn’t used goods. I don’t think I can sleep in that bed this weekend. I just looked at its freshly made sheets, with the knowledge that Mitchell changes his sheets once in a blue moon, and had no choice but to acknowledge what had happened there the night before. Hell, just take one look at his neck and there is no way but to see that I, at least for last night, wasn’t the one Mitchell wanted to be with. Jeff says that 3 weeks is a long time to go without sex. I don’t even want to debate that. It isn’t about the sex. It’s about the amount of energy, time and money I dedicated into being with him this weekend, and such a selfish move on his part could have ruined it.

>>>edited for discretion, see file<<<