Untangled 35: Two Steps back

My ex had been texting me while I was on the plane. The last text said, “I’m so sorry, please forgive me. I’ve been doing a lot of praying, and I now know you are my wife. I want to get married. Please, give me another chance.” I stared at my screen in disbelief. After that horrible weekend, I did want to forgive him, but how did he know? I wanted to start over! The dating pool is full of feces, urine, and mustard stains! Why couldn’t it all be so simple? I hated that we didn’t just try harder.

Unfortunately, a part of me knew I could not accept him back, no matter how much I needed to erase the last experience. I ignored the text and drove home, torn. Hobo Joe was so bad he made me miss my ex. I began to compare. My ex would not raise his voice at me; he would make sure I ate, he would go to whatever restaurant I suggested, he was clean, and he smelled good. I missed him, but I wouldn’t dare text him back or tell him. I needed to be by myself for a while.

When I got home, Hobo Joe called to complain about hospital food and how he wished we had more time together. I was instantly repulsed. I made a flimsy excuse and got off the phone. I would wait for him to be discharged to tell him I wanted nothing to do with him. My ex continued to text, and I ignored them.

The next day, after my last client left, I saw that my ex was sitting outside of my salon door. My heart sank with curiosity and fear. What did he want? Did he crash the Explorer? Was he angry I didn’t respond to any text? What was it now?

He walked in and closed the door behind him. I backed up a step and said, “What are you doing here? What do you want?” He said, “I wanted to know if you would please give me another chance.” He looked so miserable and sincere, and I still shook my head no. His eyes welled up with tears. He dropped his head and said, “I guess I messed up bad this time,” then turned and walked out.

I locked my salon door and finished preparing to leave. When I got to my car, I had another text from him asking about emissions for the Explorer (another route to me). I responded and left it at that. The following day, Hobo Joe called at 5 a.m. while he was driving to work and went into a whole conversation as if I belonged to him. The nerve! I told him I was asleep and would talk to him later, then hung up.

He called again at noon to ask if I could buy his plane ticket to come to Dallas; he would pay me back. That was it—this one was getting his audacity on the same clearance rack as my ex. I would rip the bandaid off in one pull and tell him. I said, “This isn’t gonna work; we are in different places in life, and I have no desire to live in the backwoods of Tennessee. You also seem to be going through a depression or something. Focus on getting whole, then date someone.”

He said, “WHAT do you mean?!” in a sort of menacing voice. I guess he forgot I was in another state and owed him nothing. I said, “Oh, you didn’t hear me… I said I don’t want to have a relationship with you on any level.” He said, “Why would you tell me this on my lunch break?! I’ll call you later,” and hung up. He then texted and said, “So I shouldn’t get a ticket to come there? And you’re never coming back here?” I said, “Uh, that’s correct.” He then texted, “Then WHY THE HELL DIDN’T YOU SAY THAT TO MY FACE?!” I ignored his text. It was then I remembered my thousand dollars.

He called me later and left a voicemail, rambling about how it wasn’t fair that I gave my ex all those chances but didn’t give him one. He demanded I give him at least a chance. I guess he didn’t realize that my ex had the good sense to love-bomb me first; this guy didn’t do a THING to endear me to him. Then he said, “Is this because my divorce isn’t final?” WHAT?! On top of being Oscar the Grouch, complete with trash can, he was also deceptive and dishonest. That ENRAGED me. Now I really didn’t feel bad about breaking things off. He deserved it.

I texted back and said, “What do you mean your divorce isn’t final yet?” He said, “It will be in two weeks, and you would be missing out.” I said, “How dare you put me in harm’s way! Have me running around town with a married man like some home-wrecker! Stop texting me!” I was fuming. I blame myself; all this happened because I was so ready to get over my ex the quickest way. I didn’t think to ask for a divorce decree—who thinks to ask for that? Even after all the lies I’ve heard, I still didn’t think anyone would lie like that. Hobo Joe tried to call back-to-back, but I ignored him. At the same time, my ex tried to call. I ignored him as well. I turned my phone off, took a hot bath, and went to sleep. Tomorrow was a new day. I wished I had never met either of these men.

The next day, my high-top table arrived. After getting back from Nashville, I had moved into a bigger space with a loft. I wanted to have space for my daughter to move in with me. The driver left the huge box at my front door. After I pushed the box inside, I sat and cried. The heaviness of the box pushed me over the edge. There was no way I could put this thing together alone. My life was in shambles yet again. The tears were a culmination of everything going on. Why was I so terrible at everything?

I cried and thought about how my ex would have at least brought the box in, assembled the table, and taken the trash to the dumpster. Right then, as if he knew, he texted to see if I needed anything. I waited about 40 minutes, then said, “Yes, I need help putting a table together.” He responded “yes” immediately and was at my door within the hour with food and tools.

We put the table together and talked about his health. I knew I had messed up by responding, but I didn’t care at the moment. At that moment, I needed him. That response opened the door to start over. I knew it, so I said, “We need to talk about what has happened,” and he nodded okay. I brought up all the recent lies and told him I couldn’t go back and didn’t want to go further unless he was really ready to be transparent. I said, “I will not be waiting years for a proposal and to start our life as a married couple. I will also not hear any more lies from you.” I showed him his text and said, “I’ll know in a year if these were words to manipulate me or if you’ve really had a change of heart.” He didn’t say anything. That familiar red flag was back.

He stayed for a few hours, and we continued catching up on the last few months apart. He felt the need to tell me he hadn’t dated anyone or been to see anyone. Right then, I realized he must’ve seen where I was through the MacBook. I said nothing. I didn’t owe him any explanation or assurance.

We went to dinner in Dallas the next day. Oh, that joker was saccharine sweet! He held my hand, opened doors, played smooth jazz while driving, smelled terrific, and complimented me like I was coming into an inheritance. At dinner, he even asked the waitress to take our picture. He had that old mask on nice and tight, just like when I first met him. I knew it was all a lie, but sometimes lies feel good.

Unfortunately, that was all very short-lived. About four days later, I noticed his old patterns resurfacing. I didn’t wait. I texted him that I made a mistake in a moment of weakness; he was the same, and I had no interest in rounding this same mountain. He immediately FaceTimed me while driving and begged. He pleaded for me not to do this. He said he couldn’t live without me and wasn’t willing to let me walk away anymore because of his pride. He said he was sorry, he’d been sick and stressed, and asked me to please give him another chance.

I heard him out and felt compassion that I had never heard from him before. I told him, “I appreciate your vulnerability; everything is fine, and I now understand you.” After hanging up, I was more confused than ever. His words were saying one thing, but his recent actions another.

The very next morning, I got a call from a sister in Christ while driving to work. She asked if I had a minute to talk, and I said sure. She told me she was on a prophetic call the Friday night before. My heart skipped a beat because I somehow knew what it was about. The prophet on the Zoom asked if there was a Kim on the call. Nobody said anything, then he asked if someone had a friend named Kim. She unmuted herself and said, “I do.” He said, “Tell her the relationship she’s in isn’t the one.” She didn’t know I was back with my ex or that I had just gotten back from Tennessee. I told myself it was about Hobo Joe, but deep down, I knew it wasn’t.