Day 2-- Some kinds of backsliding are not as obvious as a pie in the face.

I cut Patte off on Facebook. I cut him off on blackberry messenger. I unsubscribed from all of his spotify lists, except one.

There was one very old list of songs in his original language which he made for me. I didn't unsubscribe from that list.

Last night, for the first time in a long time he added several songs to the list. And made a new list, which had enough of "our" songs for me to conclude the list was for me.

So naturally I drank lots of whiskey and made my own list in the hope he would see it too.

And I went to bed drunk. A drunk middle aged woman posting love songs to a married man is such an attractive thing, isn't it?

I unpublished it this morning, although I'll keep it to remind myself of my own foolishness.

Letter to my stupid self:

Listen, if he really loved you and wanted to be with you, he would not be posting playlists in the middle of the night while his wife sleeps in the other room. If he really loved you and wanted to be with you, he would first try to work things out with his wife while being honest with her about their problems. He would come to you when he was free.

You want to read smoke signals into his music choices. You want to hope he's going to choose you. Isn't that selfish? Isn't that stupid? It was one thing to want that when his wife was resolutely pushing him away. But if she isn't doing that anymore, isn't it better for him, his children, his wife if he can work it out? Leave it the fuck alone.

 Besides, it should be blindingly obvious that even these smoke signals are ambivalent. He's *not* about to choose you. Grow up.

Things to do:

• Look at the picture of them together from Christmas on her Facebook
• Imagine how I'm going to feel when he puts his wedding ring back on, because that gesture will come shortly.
• Rinse/Repeat
• Stop drinking whiskey.

(If I was really clever I would cut off the one remaining playlist. But I'm not ready to do that yet.)