30 Days of Truth: Day Three - Let it Go

Day 03 → Something you have to forgive yourself for.

Oh, this should be easy. I am my own worst critic. Marya Hornbacher outlined it best when she said, "Anything you can do to me, chances are I do it to myself already, and I hit harder than you ever could." And she was right, because I routinely cut myself up over stupid bullshit all the time.

So. What do I need to forgive myself for? There was something I'd been carrying for over a decade, but I handled that a couple of months ago. There are many things for which I feel guilty, but I'll go with the most recent and the most troublesome, and leave it at that.

Almost a year ago, when I first started talking to Troy is a serious way, his team was in a really big race in town. I had a plan. He was a small part of that plan, at the time. Basically, I was just trying to sleep with him and move on. I had a groove to rediscover. 

He invited me to come out to the race both days, gave me a free pass, but I didn't make it down there until Saturday night. The race was already over for the day. They'd broken the car and were staying up all night to fix the overheating issue, which turned out to be a blown head gasket and a bad radiator. It warped the head, too, so they were a little busy, to say the least.

I hung out for awhile, watched, ate dinner with them, shamelessly flirted with Troy, and handed people wrenches. But eventually I got tired and it continued to get colder and although I had delusions of him asking me to stay in his camper with him that night, I figured it probably wasn't going to happen (he was in serious race mode), so I decided to leave.

He walked me to my car - only because all his guy friends told him to - and they stood there staring, anxiously awaiting the passionate kissing that didn't happen. We did, however, talk for almost 45 minutes about anything and everything. He asked me to come out to see the end of the race Sunday. I told him I'd have to see, as I was supposed to have plans. As I was getting in my truck, I heard his friends fuck with him about the plain good bye which, admittedly, I was glad they did. I wanted anything I could get from him and was disappointed that he hadn't wanted to.

The next day, my ex-boyfriend, Scott, from a long, long time ago came down. He let me drive his Vette and the whole purpose of his visit was for him to " try to win me back." Kind of a long story. Anyway, he insisted on driving me down to Kemah and we had lunch at a little seafood place. As we drove down the highway, I remember wondering what was going on with Troy and his team.

He called while I was eating and I let it go to voicemail. I didn't know what to say to him. I wanted to hang out, but I also wanted to get something out of Scott and I felt like I deserved it, after everything he'd put me through. There was a really big part of me that wanted him to go the extra distance to try to win me back, just so I could crush him a little. So I didn't talk to Troy - mostly because I didn't want to have to lie to him about why I wasn't coming out.

After lunch, after the drive, after the rather annoying sex, after Scott left, and after the few Internet searches I did on him and figured out he'd been lying to me again, Troy called a second time. I answered. His car and his team won the highest award given by that particular racing circuit. He was so proud, so excited, and he couldn't wait to email the pics. 

Immediately I felt bad. I should have been with him at the race, supporting someone I knew was a good guy, rather than indulging in promiscuous, egocentric bullshit.

As a little bit of time went on (like, a week and a half, or so) and Troy and I spent more time together, I began to realize just how important that race was and how important it was that they won. And how much of a bitch I was for not going, and lying about where I was and why I couldn't be there with him. He deserved my support. This realization made my stomach feel like it had a hole in the bottom of it.

Come to find out, the girl he'd kinda been seeing before me had flaked out on him Thursday and Friday and so he was excited to get me out there because he knew I cared about racing and that I was anxious to spend time with him. When I came out Saturday, he knew I was the better woman. Once he told me that, I felt so sick over it that it literally gave me a lump in my throat.

He told me not to worry about it, that we weren't that serious yet and all of that. He told me he understood why I didn't stay and that it was perfectly okay. 

He may think that, but I know the truth. I still can't forgive myself for not being there at a time when he really wanted the support of friends, rather than just the racing community. Knowing what I really was doing at that time, rather than being where I should have been...it still makes me feel a little nauseated and I can still feel that lump. 

I should have been there.

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