another disappointment, not grand enough to be called great.

two months ago, as a last ditch effort to get over the douche-canoe ex, i went out with a guy who latched on to me really fast and before i knew it, i was in a relationship with a man who didn't really rock my socks, on or off. a few weeks in, i realized that we had some pretty major religious differences. as in, i am a Christian, and he is not. that's wouldn't really be such a big deal in the short term, except that he has set himself against the church, and feels that faith and reason are mutually exclusive. the only reason he actually gave me was basically "because george bush". needless to say, this was not a satisfactory explanation. especially considering that i, a Christian, do not like george bush. or the crusades. or racism. i am not a hatemonger, and i do not force my beliefs on anyone. i don't hesitate to talk about my faith, but i don't try to change anyone's opinion. he was constantly disrespectful of my faith, and often accused me of judging him, when i wasn't doing so at all. on the contrary, he judged me, and openly said that my faith was the one thing he would change about me. not only was he incapable of accepting me fully, he accused me of not being willing to accept him because of his lack of belief. the thing i could not accept was his derision of me and my faith. my issue was not his lack of belief, but his attitude about mine. i realized that if i broke up with him immediately because of this, he would blame the entire situation on "religion". foolish of him, but he is not a terribly insightful or self-aware person. by this time, i had lists and lists of reasons why i did not want to be with him. i was really busy with work, and honestly, i didn't have much time to worry about him because it was tax season and i was working 45+ hours a week and doing last minute tax returns on the side. among the items on the list were his manners: he makes terrible mouth noises, scrapes his teeth on eating utensil (even when using a spoon), holds his fork like a small child and shovels food into his mouth, and talks with his mouth full. he also overeats, which, since i'm trying to overcome compulsive eating disorder, is as dangerous for me as if i were a recovering alcoholic dating a heavy drinker. he is slow to speak, and slightly dull, but often hinted that i talk too much. he has a bad habit of pouting. he is nervous in crowds, which makes eating in a crowded restaurant not fun at all. he is hyper-sensitive in regards to other people and his perceptions of their opinions of him, but he was totally insensitive about my feelings. he is a bit racist, and his racism is most often directed toward indians. he complains about his job, and the "idiots" and "clowns" he works with, but does nothing to improve his situation or his attitude. i also have some bedroom complaints, but those are probably not appropriate to share, even here. toward the end of tax season, i was exhausted, stressed, and just struggling to get things done. i was working my regular job from 11am - 9pm during tax season, and in the last weeks, i had early morning appointments with tax clients. he worked a 3pm - 11pm shift. i told him that i needed to start getting in bed earlier, and that i couldn't talk on the phone for several hours every night, because well, i fucking need sleep. but he still called or texted every night, often waking me up. and if he didn't get to talk to me, b/c i didn't wake when he texted, or b/c i looked at the phone and said "fuck you" and didn't answer, he would pout and send texts that he missed me (after two or three days, seriously). this was, to say the least, exhausting. and i wasn't feeling well at all. my arm started swelling, which was odd. then i got overheated during a choral concert and almost passed out. he was there for the concert, and drove me home afterwards. i told myself i would wait until after tax season was over to really think about my exit strategy. i had two more days of tax season, and my schedule would change mid-week from 11am-9pm to 8am-5om. i went to my doctor the day after tax season was over, and they started running tests to see what was going on with my arm. on friday, after more tests, they determined it was a blood clot in the subclavian vein (under my collarbone) and i was hospitalized all weekend. the great danger was that it is close to the superior vena caeva. which goes through the heart and to the lungs. fortunately, the bloodclot is not IN the svc, which would have meant some very invasive surgery. i texted a couple of local friends, to let them know what was going on. my two best (local) girlfriends came to see me saturday afternoon, and eventually, the boyfriend dragged his butt over to see me ... he apparently did not feel any sense of urgency, because he did dishes and laundry and waited until 7:30pm to show up. oh and he didn't eat dinner, so he complained of being hungry. i really couldn't do anything about that, except offer him some of my contraband snacks and ask him why the hell he didn't bother to feed himself while he was dicking around all day. because really, i fully expected him to be there as soon as he could get there. because that's what you do when the person you think you're falling in love with is in the hospital. i got to come home on sunday, and i figured he would come over sunday night, but he didn't even suggest it. and really, i couldn't suggest it. i took monday through wednesday off work. i had to give myself shots, go back to the doctor, pick up medicines, and somehow try to wrap my head around what had happened to me. lots of people were calling, texting, emailing. i felt showered with love and attention, and it was sweet but overwhelming. i returned as many texts and calls as i could, but i didn't get everyone. i missed two texts from the bf on monday. the first because i was on the phone and had lots of texts, and the second came after i was asleep for the night. that night, he called me after 1am, angry and worried. i don't always wake up sweetly, and this time i woke up mad. i explained to him quite tartly that this is not about him. he doesn't get to call the shots right now, b/c i am sick, this is not ok, and he needs to get his head out of his ass and realize that this is really hard for me and it's all i can do to take care of myself, without worrying that he might be worried about me. i didn't mention how difficult it had been to go to sleep in the first place ... but let me tell you, it is fucking hard to sleep these days, and it's very likely that my bedtime that night had involved crying, praying, and more than a few minutes staring into the dark. needless to say, i was not pleased at being woken up, and i was not gentle about it. he asked if he could come over and bring me something, and i hesitantly said yes, and asked what time. he said noon. so, the next day, i woke up early enough to shower and get ready by noon, and though i was hungry, i figured i should wait because he was likely to bring lunch, seeing as how he was to come by at lunchtime, and surely he would be trying to take care of me. he finally came at 1:30pm, and he didn't bring lunch. he brought a few sad-looking flowers from his yard, in a drinking glass. now, i should make a side-note here that i am usually quite fond of home-grown flowers. they are beautiful and smell gorgeous. a lovely, full bouquet of flowers from someone's garden is actually my favorite type of floral gift. three small, almost spent roses and a branch off a flowering tree do not make for a full bouquet, and the thoughtfulness is diminished by knowing full well that they were hurriedly selected at the last minute before he came over, so as not to come empty handed.  and why only three roses? i know there are more than three blooms on that rosebush ... could he only bear to part with three? was the prospect of picking more just too exhausting or time-consuming? he claimed to have also gone by the supermarket to get better flowers, but that they didn't have anything pretty. whatever. i thanked him graciously and added water to them. since he hadn't brought lunch, i offered to make something, since i was hungry. he declined and said he would grab something on his way to work. so, being the southern hostess that i am, i couldn't eat when he wasn't eating. i waited. he basically sat and stared at me for a little over an hour, and seemed to be waiting for something from me. looking back, i think he was expecting me to apologize but i'm not sure why. he eventually left for work. i ate some lunch, finally, and slept most of the day. he didn't offer to come over the next day, and i went back to work thursday. he texted me while i was at work, and i guess i replied sporadically, but did not reply to the last text on thursday, because i didn't really feel it necessary, and because that night i had a resurgence of anxiety about my health situation. friday morning i went back to the doctor, because i needed reassurance and more information. this whole thing has been terrifying. still is, actually. i'm trying to be cool about it, because there's really not much i can do but follow my doctors' orders and take my meds the way i'm supposed to, and get my blood checked when they tell me to (right now that's twice a week). boyfriend texted and i responded because it was more or less convenient to do so. he asked if he could see me over the weekend, and i didn't respond because i needed to think about my answer. i decided that based on the past week alone, i had plenty of reason to break up with him. i figured we could have lunch on saturday and talk, and i'd let him down as gently and humanely as possible. i didn't want to hurt him at all, but i knew it was inevitable. so i called him friday night, intending to set up a lunch date. he didn't answer, but called back soon after. we exchanged pleasantries, asked after each others' health, and i told him how scared i had been the last couple of days, especially the night before. i said it was really humbling to realize how close a call i have had, and how grateful i am that i went on friday instead of waiting the weekend to follow up. he said somewhat casually, "yeah, because it could have been serious." well, that flew the fuck all over me. i retorted "no, it IS serious. it COULD have been fatal." i shit you not, he replied slowly "that's not good." really? really, you dumbass fuck? really, it's not good that your girlfriend could have fucking died, and even now she's still not completely healed of this thing and she's going to in treatment for 6 months? they don't put you in the hospital for a fucking papercut. this is a big damn deal and you are a selfish, self-absorbed, insensitive, ignorant redneck asshole ... but i kept that to myself. i just eloquently said "yeah. not good." and THEN. then. then he said, "well, you've kinda been ignoring me this week, but that's ok." i asked him to repeat that, and he did ... verbatim, keeping his tone the same. don't men know that when we ask them to repeat themselves we are giving them a chance to retract whatever idiot thing they just said, to save their sorry hides? so when he repeated himself, i asked "really? you really think i've been ignoring you?" and he said yes. omg. the fucking idiot really thought i was ignoring him, after what i had been through. i had no idea what to say, and what came out was "this is not working." his response was to angrily say that he'd come get his stuff on sunday. shocked at both of us, i told him that he really didn't need to feel like i was ignoring him, b/c again, NOT ABOUT HIM. but he didn't get it. so i had to say again that it wasn't working, and he made up something about losing signal soon (total lie), and couldn't get off the phone fast enough. i figure he had to go cry. i was so shocked and angry that he would have the balls to accuse ME of neglecting HIM ... i'm still shocked, actually. instead of waiting to see him on sunday, i packed up the few things of his that were at my apartment, and took them to his house on saturday while i was out running errands. he wasn't home, so i left them with his roommate and texted to tell him that they were there, that i wasn't trying to avoid him but i didn't know he would be out. and that brings me to this week. this week, ex-bf dumbass has been posting lots more anti-Christian things on his facebook (almost all his posts have been snide and anti-Christian ever since he and i had our discussion about faith, but it has escalated over the past few days). it should be noted that while i might post something about being Christian, i never say anything against atheists, agnostics, or any other belief system. anyway, today he sent me a text. it read: "You obviously were trying to avoid me and Im glad youre seeing a therapist to help resolve that ego. Take care." i got this text at work this morning. and tonight he posted a hateful comment on MY link on MY facebook wall. the only reason i don't remove and block him is that he seems to be on a vindictive streak and i need to be aware of any need for quality control. i feel like i am under attack, and despite the fact that i ended up dumping him for reasons totally separate from our religious differences, he is acting like that's what he thinks it was. i don't know what to do, or how to respond. i am hurt, but not heartbroken, because he never really touched my heart. more angry and annoyed than anything. i want to rise above the situation, and leave him squarely behind me, but i cannot allow him to sully my name or reputation. i'm afraid he will try. also, i feel a self-righteous indignation that he would even try to pin the blame for this on me. i want him to know exactly why i broke up with him (except for the bedroom part - that would be cruel). i want it to be finished, but really finished my way ... why can't my exes have the decency to fall off the face of the earth, or at least move to texas?