Old dogs and new tricks . . . .

There is a perception among many that two things happen when you get older.  The first is you're supposed to have learned enough not to make mistakes.  The down side is the other one, that you are so stuck in your ways that you can't change.

I avow both are false.

Here's the thing; anyone who's read my regular postings on MySpace and Facebook knows I've been on something of a depressive rant for the last month.  I have toyed with the idea of posting the whole sordid affair for the world to see (and perhaps for some random person to acquaint the object of my ire with the fact I've "outed" her for the world to see she's a lying cheating . . . choose whatever noun works for you; I'm trying not to offend.)  And of course, to vent.

The short of it: a young lady with whom I had a relationship for the better part of a year lied to me.  Hardly a unique experience for any guy whose dated more than a couple of ladies after the age of twelve.  You kind of expect that stuff when you're young.

Young?  Yes she was.  Embarrassingly younger and unapologetic about it, I might add.  Every time I cautioned this difference might prove critical, she would dismiss those concerns with the cliché "age is just a number."

OK, so I started off thinking this was going to be a "fun thing," but she kept coming at me about how she was really into me more than I was into her.  Flattering.  A little unbelievable, but she just never broke character.  Every friend who met her said, "Wow!  She's really nuts about you."  The first time I said, "I love you," she shot back with "I love you more."

So, I got worked like a rented mule.  She is what my 92 year old mother would call a gold digger.   Or as I said, a lying cheating . . . fill in the blank.

OK, so what have we learned?

First, betrayal is a great source of rage.  It wasn't that she changed her mind and decided she wasn't in love with me any more.  With someone that much younger, I figured that was a pretty likely outcome.  No, it was the fact that she worked her pretty little ass off for seven months to get me to fall for her.  Suddenly there was this emotional presence in my life and it was taken from me.

So, immediately I had to deal with was the knowledge the object of my affections did not exist in the real world.  I was in love with a masterful con job, a stage performance that should have gotten her a Tony.  She worked it up to and including "I have to meet your kids; they have to like me."  You don't mess with the kids. And it was all lies.  She was a brilliant actress.  One friend of mine who's an ex-stripper of fifteen years experience and has an excellent BS detector, actually complimented me on finding a "good girl for a change."  Another former dancer (I know a lot of dancers) said, "Dude, she's going to get you to give her a ring."

Second, you are overwhelmed with the anger.  For a month I want to hunt her down and use her as a piñata and I'm not a guy who's prone to violence.  Not that I would in the real world, obviously, but that's how I felt.  It was a profound, unrelenting rage that just would not stop coming in waves the second week, after the hurt faded (once I finally got she was a lying, cheating . . . whatever).

Third, the anger lingers.  It just would not fade after a month.  So today I ask myself why is it so hard to lose?  Yes, the betrayal was the worst in any relationship, and she messed with my kids, but there had to be more.

Then it occurred to me that one of the problems was that I cut off all contact as soon as the betrayal had been relieved.  I refused to talk to her.  I sent her a message telling her were were done and no discussion was going to take place.  (It's a little tough to sell me that sleeping with another guy for a couple of months, then a second guy part time for another month was an "accident.")  And a lie is a lie is a lie.  Nothing to discuss.

Lastly, what that left me with was a total lack of first hand unpleasant memories.  Because she was always performing we only had about sixty seconds of a bad vibe, once, which quickly got put paid to and was over.  Otherwise, she was prefect.  She was loving, affectionate, funny, sexy, adoring, and just about everything else that any of us want.  When my wife divorced me, after twelve years, I had an apple collection of unhappy memories to point to, to lessen the shock and make me feel as  if this might not be the worst thing that could happen.  But when the little liar left, every though of her was one that would have made me smile before I learned of the betrayal. I have an illusion with no sensory, emotional rebuttal.  It's all knowledge, not feeling.

So, now that I understand this, perhaps I can begin a new course of approaching the question and maybe now I'll start to lose the anger (makes it tough to write the funny or romantic scenes when you're chewing off your cheek from the inside).

So, ya, even at my age you can learn.  What you have to do is stop making excuses for wallowing and start looking for things that give you insight into why things happened, what you can do to keep them from happening again, and put the past behind you.

All it does is take time.  And a lot of work.  A quick contrast before I quit.  There's a wonderful young lady (who actually has an account over on MySpace where I found her, and no I'm not telling) with whom I had a relationship some years ago.  She chose to vanish out of my life without so much as a goodbye, and hurt me very deeply.  Again, YOUNG.  But while my feelings had nothing to do with her decision, she at least never once lied to me (that I know of) and didn't put any effort into manipulating my feelings.  I sent her a message not too long ago telling her that I wish her nothing but good things.  Because that's how I feel.

How do I feel about the lying, cheating . . . oh, hell, little whore?  I hope the karmic crap she's going to get from this (and it's already cost her a job--don't ask, it's not pretty) teacher her.  See, if she could learn to be the person she pretended to be, that would be a swell thing, because the person she pretended to be was someone worth loving.  The one she turned out to be in real life, not so much--you don't mess with my kids.

So, I'll get over this, and I hope it's sooner rather than later, and one of these days this will be just one of those things from which I learned and grew. (Though I still want to punch her out if I see her--I'll get over that)