That Late Night Thing (Again)
2003-09-19 ~ 8:39 a.m.

I'm an idiot.

I've been burned in the past by an ex-fiancee. We had been having problems and when he went away on an 8-week course (he was military), he decided that he would cheat on me for 7 of the 8 weeks with some girl he had just met. At least he waited a week, eh?

Anyway, I found out the night he was returning from the course when said chickie called and demanded to know what I was doing in my own home. Apparently he told her that we had broken up a month before. So, he lied to her and to me - and he claimed that he fell in love with her. Nice way to show it, asshat.

Anyhoo, the kicker was that during this period of infidelity, he was on the phone with me every night telling me that he wanted to work things out and that he was committed to me. Then he would go out and bang her. Odd, what some men do. The predictable happened, I left and made him pay for an appartment full of furniture.

So, fast forward 7 years to last night. D. was out doing his Thursday night thing....golf. When I spoke to him around 830, he said he was on his way home. I settled in with some sattelite porn and prepared to give him a homecoming he'd never forget. After about an hour tho, I started to wonder where he was. Turns out it was this big thing about being locked in the club house and setting off an alarm and waiting for the police and shit. No biggie, right?

Except that it was. But for all the wrong reasons. I still think he should have called me and updated me on his situation, but that's not it. I don't know what it is about late at night, but when he's not home on time, or he's just out late, I get this niggling little voice in the back of my head going "who's he with, hmm? And what's he doing with her?"

*Sigh* I know. In the harsh light of day I know that I'm being an idiot. I have absolutely zero to worry about. D. doesn't sleep around - not even when he was single. I know that he loves and cherishes me and would never do anything stupid to screw up our great relationship. He values it too much to throw it away. And I feel the same way.

But.

Is it a result of being burned that I react this way in the late hours of the night? Is it simply that my imagination works overtime during those hours? (see previous entry about monsters) Or is it a woman's natural insecurity? I don't know. All I know is that I ended up snapping at him and saying bad things that I didn't mean, and then finished off by being a crying, whining mess. He totally forgave me, and though I explained it to him, I don't think he really understood.

It's been 7 years. Not all men are like the asshat. Why can't I let it go? At what point does the problem of insecurity leave the territory of strange and wander into the realm of the truly ridiculous?

Why can't I just surrender to it and trust D. with all my heart?

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