My initial reflections on this week’s happenings were heavily geared toward self soothing sabotage. I was convinced the lesson was in letting go. I had come up with analogies, comparisons to change, and simply accepting the failure of my relationship with mr.ten as the expected and inevitable outcome of our last four dates. However, these brainstorms were simply a warm up for the deeper meaning which was yet to be revealed, as if by pure luck or chance. The true meaning of this weeks events, confronted how I deal with unpredictability in relationships. At first my self-talk was quite harsh. I stated that nothing ever goes as planned and I might as well just count on complete detachment as my only safe and viable option. I had succumbed to the fact that despite my best efforts to have a positive attitude, and ignore my internal predictions, I was hurting. However, it was unclear as to what exactly I was hurt about. I assured myself that if I were to continue on with mr.ten, I would surly be guaranteeing myself more heartache. So I kept repeating the falsely comforting message, “I refuse to chase” over and over in my head. It is clear to me now, that my feeble attempt to shut down all vulnerabilities, was not going to reach and resolve the origin of my discomfort.
Friday night we met up at 8:30 and went out for dinner, then went down to the Penny Creamery for ice cream to go. The evening progressed as usual but in hindsight I think the distance was apparent from the moment I walked in the door. I wonder if the shift in his demeanor was as a result of my sending him a copy of last weeks writing. Perhaps it was not as well relieved as I had anticipated. I guess there is a part of me that takes for granted my comfortableness with my feelings and their intensity. I understand that not everybody is as forgiving when it comes to their emotions or holding somebody else's for that matter. We returned to his apartment and I spent the night. The next morning I got up before he did and went to get us coffee, tea and a couple of muffins. I also brought up the small gift I got for him last week, from the new Stripe Men store that just opened downtown. I put it, still in the paper bag, on his night table. I crawled back into bed with him. He still felt noticeably different but he was tired so I assumed the shift from his previously enamored ways was just due to lack of sleep. Finally I brought it up. I told him he seemed different and a little distant. I asked him what he was feeling. He took a full minute to respond. When he was finally ready, he said, “I don’t want a commitment”. What happened between mr.ten and I, Saturday morning was very confusing. I wish I could describe all of the details of what happened, but honestly I don’t remember. The statement itself caught me off guard. I was pretty sure that we had already agreed that a commitment was off the table for the time being. I noticed that familiar feeling emerging in my body. My stomach began tensing and then a rush of insecurity pulsated through my limbs and my head started swimming. I became frozen. Here it was, the inevitable moment of where he pulls away. The odd thing was, I did say to him that I didn’t feel a commitment was a pressing objective at this time. But for some reason it felt like we were really talking about something else and that the subject of commitment was just the cover. Regardless of how and why he was saying it, he was saying it, and it hurt. I had all of the pyscho-somatic responses of a break up, even though I’m not sure that some assemblance of such, is what really even happened. It seemed as though he was preemptively telling me that someone was going to get hurt. But even as he was saying so, he was looking at me with a deep care in his eyes which obviously created more confusion in me. I started to wonder if I had been mistaking the provenance of his gaze from the beginning. I kept my cool. I went into my wordy, ego driven lecture on how I am not going to gravel at anyone’s feet and my annoyance at how many times I have participated in conversations with nauseating similarity. I explained, the only reason I believed a committed, loving relationship was even possible was as a result of this blog. I made it clear that I craved closeness with a partner, only as a result of what I had learned from the project thus far. I tried to ask good questions that would lead me to some sort of clarification, but I’m pretty sure most of his answers were “I don’t know”. I was trying to have an open heart and an open mind. But I could tell my anger was creeping up inside of me like a crouching tiger, hidden dragon. I told him I knew eventually I would get angry. And then I did. I began rushing around his apartment trying to gather my clothes and underwear. This entire conversation occurred shortly after having sex and I was still naked. I was trying to pay attention to my body. I was trying to listen to what I wanted to do to protect myself emotionally. My first instinct was to run, get my clothes on, and run. I was driven to get out of his house, get away from him and keep my integrity intact. I could feel a little sensitive part of me having trouble resisting the temptation to feel victimized and used. But as I began to put on my shoes another voice inside me said, “What you really need to do is feel heard, let him know that you feel sad. Go back. Talk to him. Don’t blame him. Just tell him how you feel. Complete the circle. Don’t just leave with unfinished business.” I came back to his bedroom where he was sitting on the edge of his bed. I was still upset. He was still looking at me kindly (I think), I said “You're not a jerk”, retracting a comment I had made earlier. “I just feel really sad”. I began to cry. I cried, not because I wanted pity from him, but because that was the path that my body and mind wanted to take. He was sitting on his bed and I was standing in between his legs and we hugged as I cried. Then I sat next to him on the bed and cried some more. I can’t remember how he was reacting except when I looked up, I swear he was still looking at me with some sort of admiration. We kissed. It was pretty clear that the only thing we both knew for sure was that we were both very confused. I think mid-kiss I said, “Are you willing to let it be messy?” “Yes” he replied, but I’m afraid you’re going to get hurt or I’m going to get hurt, or both”. I asked him how much time he spends in his relationships avoiding conflict? “All of it”, he said. With a small sigh of relief inside, I said this is what relationships are about, the mending of miscommunications and healing the hurts. No one is perfect, people are not black and white and avoidance is unfulfilling. Relationships are messy, they hurt but they are also so beautiful, satisfying, ecstatic, joyous and worth it. I told him I thought he was worth it. I got in his shower and got ready for work, as it was to late to go back to mine to do so. We kissed at the door. I told him he would have to call me because it was pretty clear that he needed his space.
I find it very difficult to work through conflict which I cannot predict. I have spent a lifetime believing that people were transparent, predictable and everyone fell into two categories; those who did what I wanted and those who didn’t. If you were a member of the latter group our time together was limited. I have very little practice or experience in maintaing relationships when I feel that I am not getting what I want. Even as I write this I have a hard time believing that such relationships are even possible. However the impact of acknowledging this incredible deficit in my human relations skills gives me a sense of immense hope. This discovery appears to be a possible key to a secret lock, that I have been trying to pick for as far back as I can remember. On my window sill are three picture frames each displaying pictures of me with people I am no longer on speaking terms with. I can’t help but notice how this is a visual representation of my relationship pattern. I have made strides in the last year pausing when I feel like abandoning friendships and talking to those friends about how I feel instead.
Last night I realized the joy and safety that emerges from honest and open communication is priceless. Villainization of people who do not comply with my demands only hurts me and I become isolated from everything that is most important to me at this time in my life, intimate connection. On my way to work I received a text message from him saying “if it’s to be messy then the soap is the most appropriate gift”
I admit I don’t know how to act. I don’t know where to go from here. So I guess I can just be honest and say. This is who I am like it or not, but at least you will be able to tell, if you keep paying attention.
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