Can I trust that the universe has my best interest in mind even though I can’t see it right now? What if I didn't base my entire concept of a relationship on text messages? Hmmm seems like an obvious way of living as I write it, and read the words. What if I based relationships on what happens in the time we spend together? That would probably lessen my anxiety by at least 50%. I could focus on what is in front of me like, being a mom, dealing with school and maintaining order in my house. I could stay in reality.
He came over they other night and our plan was to once again discuss where we were going. Originally, I thought our fling would be over by the third date at most. Neither one of us really expected to like each other so much, it didn’t really fall into our pre-conceived plan. He was just trying to get back out on the dating scene and have detached fun, and I was just adding another segment to my writing. I told him I wanted to get a little more clarity on where we were headed, since we had had sex and once again I was confused. My intention was not to back him into a corner but to listen to him and find out how he was feeling. I have a tendency to vomit my process and feelings all over other people and I wanted this to go differently. He was late a third time, by a half hour. I called Lylah and told her I was about ready to call it quits again. I felt like he didn't really want to see me since he was so late. Right as she was explaining how she is also struggles with being punctual and stated “their problem not mine”, advising me to not take it personally, he rode up on his bike in a bright pink t-shirt. He gave me a short kiss, one that wreaked of nerves. So I wasn’t too surprised when he said that he still didn’t know how he felt. I told him I would rather he think about it some more and take his time, rather than just saying something to fill the space. He came straight over from the beach and was covered in sand. I suggested he could take a shower, he said that was a good idea. He thought it might give him some time to gain insight into how he felt and what he wanted to say.
He got out of the shower and still was clammed up tight. I said I had an idea, but felt like he would think I was crazy for suggesting it. And I felt a little crazy for thinking it too. I swallowed my pride and told him to start leaning into me. We began to dance, it was clearly more disconnected than the first time we danced together. Eventually I told him it would only work if he stopped thinking. We carried on for a little while. It might have helped. I sat and held him, his back to mine, my hand on his chest, my back against the wall. We sat there in silence until, eventually he began to speak. He talked about her and there strange interactions. He asked me if it was ok for him to say what he was disclosing. I said yes, and surprisingly I meant it. He said he didn’t want to make me sad. I have had conversations like this before when the news was disappointing and I felt my heartbreaking as they spoke. This was different, for some reason I was just listening as a friend and I appreciated his honesty. If we were going to have a relationship of the caliber I wanted, it was essential that he tell me the truth and not be afraid of my reaction. When he was finished he asked me how I was feeling. I expressed my gratitude and shock for the change in my perception and behavior. I couldn’t believe that I was capable of being so open, and how thankful I was for being able to interact with him in a healthy manor.
I was enlightened by my interaction with mr.ten, not to mention that Lylah has remind me on numerous occasions, that I can be somewhat skittish in the face of conflict. I have acknowledged that what I had perviously labeled as being abandoned was actually my lack of willingness to communicate and stay engaged in the relationship. It has become my new variable. What would happen if I didn’t decide I never wanted to talk to him again, or felt badly about myself when when he doesn't return a text right away or when he is just being honest about some of the relations between him and his ex. After all, I could walk away if I didn’t feel like he was worth the friendship. I now know that people are special and valuable. It wasn't until recently that I could really care about another human being at all. When I interact with people sometimes I just feel so grateful to be witness to them and their existence. And some of those people really stand out to me. Now that I have been exposed to people who are loving and vulnerable, I am in awe and aspire to posses those qualities to. They are so radically different from my family of origin.
Growing up, there was no sign of selflessness to be found. I realized yesterday that I never had friends over as a kid. There was only one time someone came over to my house because her mom had set it up, and I didn’t particularly like the girl, she ate all the cherries and stole my candy from a special tin under my bed. Both of the other girls I would hang out with, both used me as outlets to perpetuate their sexual abuse. I grew up in a place that was not safe emotionally. I could not count on anyone for support, love or safety. I spent a lot of time hiding in my closet. My parents fought constantly. There was screaming name calling, pushing, violence and it was pretty obvious that they had no clue of how it was effecting my brother and I. A few years ago, when I first started to realize that I was consistently having problems with attachment and relationships due to my upbringing, I was pretty sure I was doomed. I felt like I was sentenced to a lifetime of dysfunctional relationships and loneliness. It seemed like no matter how hard I tried, I always reverted back to the same survival skills, automatically. A friend of mine told me that the defenses I had acquired were as a result of poor attachment to both of my parents. I had no idea how to over come such a deeply ingrained problem. But the pain of my loneliness and constant confusion concerning how other people had seemed to have figured it out, kept me searching for a solution. As I watch Lucy grow up the influence I have over her and that of her environment becomes so obvious. I wondered how on earth could I rewind the damage acquired during my childhood?
This is how. By trusting in the universe as a guide for me to do things differently. I have told date#16 some version of this. I am called to different behaviors than I was a few years ago. My willingness to tell him how I feel no matter what and staying even when I’m scared, is quite literally re-routing neuro pathways in my brain. I am keenly aware of what I want. I want connection and I want the feeling of giving and receiving love. Instinctually, telling him that he is not over his ex-girlfriend enough for me to connect with him, when I really feel drawn to him feels so wrong. To be honest the fact that I can even deduct this after believing the opposite for so long, pretty much blows my mind. My job is to stay engaged with him and pay attention to what happens in reality. I am working on finding a balance during the physical space between us. I often struggle the day after we hang out. I feel pangs of abandonment and fear he is spending time with me against his will. When this happens I just notice how I am feeling and sometimes I will send him a text just saying I had a good time or sending him a hug. It’s a way for me to counter act my impulse to withdrawal and hold back emotionally, which just intensifies the loneliness. I choose to love within myself, and to love within the mystery of not knowing how he will act. I would like to let go a little bit more so that I could let him contact me to make plans. My threshold for space is pretty low, so I am usually the first to contact him. But I realize that a healthy relationship is equal, which would require me to trust that he will respond. I must let him show me that he is interested and then, the hardest part, believe him. He has shown me in a variety of ways. But I think my favorite was when we were having a discussion about how I believed the only person who can make me happy is me. He said people can make each other happy.
Me: “No, I am the only person who can make me happy”
Him: “People can make other people happy,”
Me: “No, they can’t”
Him: “Yes, they can,”
Me: “No, they cant”
Him: “I know they can”
Me: “How do you know that?”
Him: “Because you make me happy”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. My guts fell like they have been hung out to dry. I’m in that place of sadness where it almost feels good, like some sort of release. I am trying to take care of my heart. I thought it was so great. He was different. I am different. Nothing can prevent the pain of heartache, and unpredictability. “Love all, trust a few, and do wrong to none” is the tattoo on the woman's arm sitting next to me. I have decided to treat myself to my favorite pizza and it happens to be a Friday night. I’ll probably go see a dance performance after this, as I am too tired to dance. I called Mark and he said it helps to give myself permission to get angry. The funny thing is I’m not angry at all, not even a little bit. I am sad. Sad for him sad for me, sad for us. I keep checking my phone to see if he wants to continue the dialogue. But sure enough nothing. I am at the bar in front of the cooks. I am watching a woman pour cream into some frying pans. Everything looks so innocent and un affected by my change of heart. I feel like life is happening without me, like how the tv show continues even after you turn it off. I am an outsider looking into what happy people are doing. I’m kinda forcing myself to eat, it’s a good thing. I have been more honest with him than anyone in probably my whole life, or at least it’s more noticeable because the depth of feelings. I read him his segment, the last one. It was a risk. There are feather boas hanging near the back of the bar for the crazy show this restaurant does on Friday and Saturday nights. I am mesmerized by the guy tossing the pizza. My stomach is starting to get hungry, which is good. The food will make me feel better if I’m hungry. I could't tell this is how it would go, with him. I couldn't tell that I would continue to open up to him, the way I did. I am not protecting myself the way I used to. But if I really think about it, was that protection working very well anyway? Not really, I was just feeling the pain of withholding and fear. I’m pretty sure this feels better than that. So did I run away? No, I just sent him a text saying he could call me when he was emotionally available, I was beginning to feel like I wanted more than he could give.
They’re about to dance. They keep calling out to each other in passing “two minutes guys, two minutes”. He keeps changing his mind back and forth concerning his place with her.
“I’m ready” one of the waiters says. “Were starting in like one minute”.
The guy behind the counter begins warming up tossing the pizza dough, it’s a pizza dough spinning dance extravaganza. I want to convince myself that our lifestyle differences would get in the way, but I’m not really buying it. The restaurant starts howling. The waitress’s are putting on their feather boas. The pizza dough tossing star of the show is stretching out. It’s hard to feel shitty when seven mexican male cooks are dancing synchronized with yellow feather boas to dancing queen. Everybody is clapping and dancing and singing, taking pictures, moving their bodies freely. Now they are dancing to the song footloose. I just felt a gust of air on my face from the pizza dough being thrown. The music gets louder, the clapping intensifies. They are crouching behind the wall to throw the dough at the right time, in synch with the music. I probably look ridiculous with my eyes swelling up with tears as a result of their cheese ball performance. But I have to admit I feel better. Then back to business as usual. I can’t help but relate it to romance. They are doing their job. Sometimes it’s exiting and fun, sometimes it’s work and sometimes, it’s family. Yeah my heart is breaking but, I still like the guy.
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