Tena

I had a good day yesterday with Jean. We went to Tena on Tuesday and came back yesterday. It was a smart idea. Her idea. The place wasn't comfortable. I am not a fan of the amazon. It reminds me of Panama, which is fine but was never my thing. Bugs, jungle, no air conditioning. Not my thing. Not her thing either, apparently. But, it's better. I need 2 days to unwind here. Get some stuff done and be helpful to her. She's been so good to me. We still got to see 3 volunteers and we still enjoyed the drive, She eats like me too, a little. 

From Tena:

I talked to Jean today about George, and the details of moments. I remember how anxious and frustrated and helpless I felt. I was losing myself. It was so clear. So clear when I was talking to her. So logical. But. I still had feelings. I still have feelings. Which isn’t enough. But, why do I still have feelings if I was treated that way? Why did I still love papi even though I was treated that way? Because I learned to tolerate it. Because George reminded me of papi. Because George needed me. He really did to be ok. I was his savior, both emotionally and literally. I was his meal ticket and he needed me. I wanted to be needed. But, I don’t want a man that depends on me like that. He was controlling in his own way, maybe not even knowing it. But I don’t feel sorry for him, I can’t. I should feel sorry for me. I suffered too. I lost my period. I lost hope of what could be, of what he promised me at first. I lost $3,000 dollars. I gave too much, and he took it. I let him use my car when I walked and took Ubers. I felt guilty for asking for space and terrified to ask for it. I felt scared about how he would react when I said hello and goodbye. I was losing myself. I lost myself. I suffered with him and without him. I am the one to feel sorry for. Me. I lost in this. A lot. And It wasn’t like this at first. I was led on to believe that He had a farm. That he was stable. That he loved me for me. That he was secure, and that we would be together. I wanted that. I dreamt that. And it wasn’t that. I am grieving my imagination of what it could have been. Not what it was. I know what it was. It was unhealthy. And I won’t take it anymore. Not from him or anyone else.e I can have feelings and I can feel guilty for things I should feel guilty about. But, I don’t want to feel guilty for asking for what I want. No more. I want a man who gets me and I get him. A man who loves me slowly and deeply. A man who makes me feel so secure and safe. Not scared to make him upset. I deserve home. 

Jean wants to go home today, which I am ok with. I could use another day at home before I leave for DC. It was good to talk about George last night. To remember how I felt. I looked at photos yesterday, and then deleted them. But, I looked at photos and missed him again. Those eyes. So vulnerable. But, I think it’s my wounds. I think I want to take care of him. I want him to be safe. I want him to feel comforted. I want to please him. That’s what that is. So interesting how life works. I just want him to be ok. And I made him ok. So, when I saw his picture I thought, poor thing is so vulnerable. He’s not a villain. He was suffering inside. He was losing his business. But, I can’t save him. And I can’t make him go to therapy. And I can’t heal him. I can only take care of myself. And that’s what I did. I left. Simple as that. It hurt to leave him, abandon him I sweat I thought. Maybe that was the real grieving. Abandoning him. He needed me and I left him. I’m sorry George, but I had to do it. I had to take care of myself. I hope he understands that one day. That I did love him, and I wanted it to work. But that he has wounds too that wouldn’t let me be me. I hope he understands that one day. I hope he sees it. Maybe Coty will show it to him. 

I'm grateful for...

- Jean

- Life and getting to live

- Lorena