This is the quest, is it not? To connect in a heart-felt, whole-hearted, deep way with other people, with other souls. It is the reason behind almost everything we do. Brene Brown has her finger on the pulse of this. So I’m putting up some of the things she has to say about it.
Everything is energy, different levels, different vibrations. I believe the energy of connection is one of the highest levels that we as spiritual beings having a human experience, can achieve.
And finally…..
I had a romantic notion, I guess, of what a twin flame was. I was horrified to think that someone who is so wrought with his own emotional problems, deep-seated issues that he can’t figure out himself, that cause him to act in ways that are hurtful to himself and others, could be my twin flame.
This morning, it doesn’t matter. It is, what it is. If he doesn’t mature spiritually, we will not connect in this lifetime. That journey is his to travel. I will continue on my path, he on his. Maybe in some lifetime we will connect. I don’t think in this one, though I can’t possibly know when we will connect.
Maybe I’ll find out that he’s really not my twin flame. Maybe there are coincidences after all, and none of them are signs.
Though, my intuition tells me differently.
The relationship with him is rife with signs, but if he doesn’t read them, and only I do, it doesn’t matter. Or, if he reads them but discredits them, it doesn’t matter.
My intuition tells me that it just doesn’t matter here, in the present moment, what his soulful relationship to me is.
I’ll let it be. I’ll trust my intuition to guide me through whatever comes up. My purpose here is to evolve my soul. I believe it’s everyone’s, but if it’s not recognized on a human level by someone else, even a twin flame, it doesn’t make any difference to me.
Since we don’t talk, ever now, which is so weird really after communicating constantly all day every day, except when we were in a push away phase, I have no idea where his head is at. It’s been since November 19 that I have talked to him. Since the weight of the lies fell out of his mouth and onto my heart, and as he asked me to lie for him, to become what he was, and I had to tell him he was dead to me.
He is not dead to me, as a soul. His current choices, as a human, made him dead to me. Until he can grow, and change. I have wondered when I will hear from him again, thinking in months maybe. Because I have been sure I will at some point. But now? Maybe not for years. Maybe not until we move on from this life.
It doesn’t matter anyway. My life moves on, the way it was. The path was moving forward nicely, and then he showed up and I stumbled and lost myself, spun arouand and around, because there were some lessons I needed to learn, and now my life goes on.
My friend to whom I gave Reiki texted me last night to tell me that the issue she had that brought her to me yesterday, had taken on a whole, different feeling. The issue has to do with her sister, and is ongoing. They talked, they both laughed, good healing belly laughs. The issue remains, but my friend was able to support her sister, and lift her. I was delighted.
My friend also has issues with her ankle. It hurts her often and a lot. She said it was killing her when she got here. Last night she said she forgot about it, there was no pain from it at all. I’m sure it’s not gone, the issue with her ankle, but I’m so happy she had some relief.
It is satisfying to be able to help people. To reach outside my own issues, and leave them be. To make a deeper connection with people close to me.
I found a great site for guided free meditations. https://www.tarabrach.com/guided-meditations/ I did one this morning that was on “knowing”. Takes you very deep, to rest in your knowing. I found some peace there. My solar plexus was very tight when I got there. I did self-reiki on it, while I did the meditation. It feels fine now.
I guess that the tightness was caused by left over emotions from last night’s twin flame revelation. Right now, it means nothing, because we are apart, as we were before, and it’s not my job to wait for him to catch up, as my medium friend said. It’s his to catch up. He doesn’t listen to his soul much, he doesn’t think he has one, or doesn’t think it’s connected to the loving energy of the universe.
People will make any excuse for bad behavior won’t they? If you can believe you are not connected then I suppose that gives you free rein to do whatever the heck your narcissistic ego tells you to.
Not my problem. It doesn’t matter. I won’t bump into him again, unless he matures.
It’s another weird late December morning. It will reach 60° again today, though it looks like the last warm day. The world is shrouded in fog, and my head too is a little foggy from the late night last night and the wine. It’s a peaceful kind of foggy though.
No pressure today, no ghosts of the past filling me with longing this morning. Nor the demons of shame, or guilt, for my part in what happened. I loved, that’s all. I loved deeply, intensely, without limit, beyond reason. I don’t now, I will again. And today, I will let it go at that.
It’s easy to see our flaws when we look backward. It’s easy to chastise ourselves. But why? We are all the same thing, the universe manifesting itself through us. We are here to evolve, to grow, to learn. Bitterness will take away the beauty of the lessons we learn. I choose to hold them dear to my heart, so that as the future unfolds, greater joy will come into it because I didn’t waste the lessons. I didn’t waste the time.
Like my current favorite teacher Brene Brown says, (and I am paraphrasing), we are hard-wired for struggle, we come into this life that way. But we are also, from the moment of our conception and for no reason other than we exist, worthy of love and belonging.
I have read a few blogs this morning about shame, our personal shame, and how excruciating it is. Let me say, that verbalizing the shame, and not burying it, is the only way through it. Allow others to feel empathy for us, because empathy is the death of shame. Iyanla Van Zant says those things that we bury do not die. They rot and they fester and they will make us sick.
I believe in putting our shameful experiences out there. I believe in sending the energy to the universe, and that the universe, as a loving parent of us all, will atone, and make right what we did. I believe that in owning our stories, we gain strength, and perspective, and understanding and compassion. More importantly, we also make connection possible.
Shame isolates us. Owning our stories, and letting go of the shame connects us. To feel isolated, is to feel separate from others. How can we be separate, when we are all created from the same stardust? Shame, and isolation is us not believing we are worthy.
We are. Each and everyone of us.
Before I went to bed last night I used my very unscientific method of confirming my feelings about knowing him from a past life, I asked my pendulum, both of them. LOL. They both said, yes, we have known each other in past lives. They both said yes, I was supposed to remind him of who he was. But no, I was not supposed to bring him back from the darkness.
Which is a relief…..Because I did my best, while we were together, to tell him that he had a beautiful soul, and that I could see it. The darkness, the things that have happened to him in his life, have obscured it, in his own mind. I always saw it, and even now, I know that it was his insatiable need to be loved that made him deceive. I know his holes are so deep that he just couldn’t let go. Such erroneous thinking.
Ruin is a gift, S. It is the only way to begin transformation. I know he’s saying “bullshit” to that, lol. But it’s true. The trip back from the darkness is his to undertake, when he’s sick of having his life go wrong.
I saw him, I still see him…I forgive his inability to believe enough in himself to tell the truth. I do know that the person the most hurt by all he did was himself. So, the fact that I made sure she knew the truth is secondary. If there had been nothing to tell, he wouldn’t be there.
The fact that I’m sure he blames me for the misery he’s in now….well, honestly, what he thinks of me is none of my business.
My ex has the same issues, of not believing anyone could love him based on his own merit. And blaming me. He never was with another woman, but he lied about finances, about what he was doing, about his life, about his successes and failures, and blamed everyone else for everything. In the end, everything was my fault, and still is, I know. I really want to take him some Christmas food today. I will try, but honestly, I don’t even know if he’s even living in the same place. I’ll try, as long as I can do it without running into him. I haven’t seen him in about 2 years, though I’ve talked to him during that time. But I just don’t want to come face to face and have to talk to him. It would be uncomfortable for us both.
I have considered inviting him over for the holiday. But first, my son and he have no relationship. My son is content that way, even though I know he’s avoiding feeling all the stuff that he had to deal with with his father. I could not do that to my son. He’s made a lot of progress, and is a great kid, but he’s not ready to deal with his father’s abuse.
I also know that my ex believes everything we had together, all of the money and possessions, were his, not ours….so the fact that I have a lovely home while he lost everything he had because he borrowed so much money and thought he’d never have to pay it back, would just anger him. He really thought he could lie his way out of of having to pay the money back. He would look at me and think this house is really his, that it was bought with his money. The fact that I worked side by side with him for 25 years, and then for 10 more ran his business while he descended into severe alcoholism, means nothing to him. I was there to serve him, not to partner with him. I’m just so grateful that I got out before he threw it all away and was able to salvage enough to have a nice life for my son and myself.
So I have to leave him alone. But I’d still like to bring him something, so he’d know we were thinking of him. He can use that information however he wants, to build his ego or to regret his actions that caused him to lose us.
I got a message from a guy on a dating site this morning. His profile just made me laugh, it was so obviously a spoof on profiles. It’s too bad he lives a little too far outside my geographic area, about an hour and a half or so from me. But God, I hope I actually find someone who has a sense of humor like that. It would be so much fun.
It seems I mostly get messages from men who live in California, Arizona, Texas….lol. One this morning from Manitoba Canada, lol. I live on the east coast, it’s pretty densely populated here. But most of the profiles I come across are so boring! Where are all the funny, alive men? That was the attraction with S, he made me laugh and he was never boring. If he just could have been honest, geez….
Well time to wrap gifts. Make cakes. Clean up the kitchen, the house. My son is working all day, so won’t be home til this evening. It will be a nice low-key evening and I’m looking forward to it.
Happy Christmas Eve to all.
I’ve been reading about narcissists, and relationships. And sociopaths. I always thought my ex was a sociopath…he fit the bill perfectly. I think S, my only other relationship, was more of a narcissist. In my never-to-be-humble but honest opinion.
Here’s what I just read about a narcissist in a relationship, from Emmagc75’s blog Recovering from Narcissistic Abuse. ( https://emma75love.wordpress.com/2015/12/11/recovering-from-narcissistic-abuse-2/ )
“People with narcissistic traits are known for targeting intelligent, self-sufficient, empathic individuals as partners. They tend to lack core identity (Brown, 2013), and need narcissistic supply to fill their empty psyches. Narcissistic supply comes mostly in the form of adulation, adoration, and attention, but any sort of feedback allows the individual with narcissistic qualities to feel alive (including negative attention). ”
I don’t know about Betty Boop, but I am intelligent enough to be self-sufficient, and empathetic (which is why I feel his energy so acutely at times). I am sure I filled S’s need for adoration and attention. I believe it’s why he could not let go of me. I can’t say my ex thrived on adoration, because I didn’t adore him, but I did S.
And those of us who have been involved with someone like this, have a hard time getting over it because not only do we have to deal with a “fake relationship” but we have to deal with emotional and possibly sexual abuse. There’s usually a good bit of post-traumatic stress thrown in there.
And yes, having sex with us both for months without us knowing about the other, is sexual and emotional abuse. It feels like rape, to be honest. Telling me that he was going to be with her, and then refusing to let me go, trying to get me to see him, to have sex with him, continuing intimate conversations when he was “with” someone else (even though he denied that he was with her, he only admitted that he slept with her once a week, making it sound like he was just getting laid….) is sexual and emotional abuse. Denying her to me, and hiding me from her, is emotional abuse of both of us, in two ways. It is a lie, but it is also betrayal of the relationship he had with either of us, to deny it to the other. The narcissist disappears for hours or days. He is unreliable, read that, lies.
The thing is, he didn’t just do it to me. He did it to her too. So…while it’s obviously personal, he devastated me, now I can see that that’s who he is. He didn’t give me special treatment, he didn’t single me out….he gave it to her too. He acted it out differently with each of us. He had a long history with her, which differentiated how he abused her from how he abused me. He’s probably done something similar to every other woman in his life, all of whom he claimed “hurt” him. He used to say, “how could I have been so wrong about her (Betty)?” Oh that’s funny, when he was the one who had sex with her (former) best friend and caused the break-up during which I met him. Did he think she would stay? Geezus.
Which is, just, Wow. The man walks through life devastating people who innocently and lovingly buy into his bullshit, and then claims he’s been hurt. I remember him saying to me when all the lies and deception were exposed, but Betty didn’t know yet, how he was hurt too. That’s just funny, really. HE was hurt? OMG, I feel so sorry for him, lol. He lies and deceives two women who loved him, and speaking only for myself, beyond limit and reason, and when both women refused to play his game, he is hurt. OMG. It’s like theater of the absurd. I have to laugh, now.
God, he has no idea what hurt is. NONE. He’s incapable of that much emotion. You can’t set yourself up knowingly to fail, and then cry about it.
But still….I feel sorry for him, because he’s never going to know the joy of real connection in his lifetime. I still don’t know why I feel him so much. And, I am still a believer in the power of unconditional love, (which means, I have to love him in that generic way because we don’t get to pick and choose who we love if we believe in unconditional love and it’s those who appear to least deserve it that need it the most) and when I feel his energy winding it’s way into my gut, I’ll continue to send him Reiki. He used to talk about going to live in a monastery for 6 months, and I’d laugh….because I couldn’t imagine him going with out sex that long, lol. But it would be a good thing for him to do, with counseling. Maybe he could salvage the remaining years of his life. And stop fucking over people who love him. If there are any left.
They say a narcissist loves attention, and so does a sociopath. Doesn’t matter if it’s positive or negative attention, it’s just attention. It’s just knowing that someone else’s head is wrapped around them. Well…S, this one’s on me. Here’s a bunch of attention for you. I hope you enjoy it.
But really, I hope you take it to heart, and get some help, and learn how to love people and let them love you. There’s so much more to living than playing these childish games. Love always.
One man is mad with power. Unable to feel empathy. Disrespectful of everyone’s wishes, desires, love, care….dishonors everyone, in the pursuit of what he wants. Never accountable for the destruction that he leave behind him with every footstep. Convincingly, he tells people what they want to hear, and when they believe his false story, he uses them to do his bidding. So they will fill his need, his desire. He offers them some future compensation that he knows he will never give them. Pretty soon everything he says is a lie, and darkness surrounds him and follows him and envelops anyone who tries to love him.
One man is vulnerable, sweet, loving, fearless. He feels others pain, more acutely than his own, and is there. Beside them. Wiping their tears, reminding them they have worth. Sees people at their worst and tells them that’s when he loves them the most. He never misses a chance to connect. To be kind. To show his love, even if he knows you don’t feel quite the same. The light follows him everywhere, every word, every breath. If he goes into the dark, he brings the light with him.
With the first man, the love was fire, and now it’s ash. It’s a gray film on the heart, all the loving fire has been dulled, and burned out, burned away. The fire of lies, and deception reduced it all to nothing but powdery ash, waiting for the first rain to wash it into the ground, to begin transformation into something else.
With the he second man, the love was cool, and now it builds. He is easy, his warmth crosses the miles. His unconditional love floats on the breeze and caresses my soul. She thinks, why….do I deserve this? It’s not to ask….
There is no asking, why, for either of them.
One chooses disconnection, disinterest, disharmony, solitary solitude. Why? It’s not to ask, it’s his to tell, if he ever chooses to. Or to hide. Or to hide from.
One chooses love, connection, compassion, kindness richness of life. His light just shines. Why? It’s not to ask. It’s to accept. Why? It’s his to tell if he chooses. Or to live. He doesn’t care why, he just is.
Two men, a perfect dichotomy. Everything one is, the other is not. The ying and the yang, clear in front of me. I rest. Too long in the darkness, I seek the light.
Warning: This is pretty raw……
Today was difficult. I had that random rogue wave memory hit me today, while I was working. (See last blog) I had to go to the ladies room to keep from crying at my desk. I just don’t understand the mentality.
When he did the prison whore, he called me two days later and couldn’t wait to tell me. He didn’t want the weight of it on him. He said “I did something and it’s gonna hurt.” But he still had to tell me. He had to do the right thing. That was February.
In May, he had me over to his house on a Sunday. Not of course, Saturday night. I had been there in April, a couple weeks before, the night his friend died. (I had been sitting at home, and was overcome with a feeling from him…I called and asked if he was ok. He said “funny you should ask. Gus died last night.” I was there in a few hours. He was sad….really sad. But Ok.) I didn’t think anything of the fact that I hadn’t been with him the night before, now two weeks or so later. He’d had the memorial service for his friend the day/night before. I got there late morning, I think. We made love, we were sitting naked, he on his couch and me in one of his recliners, and he told me he was thinking maybe we didn’t need to see each other every weekend. I remember saying, “I think I want to get dressed.”
He was most likely in her bed the night before, or maybe she had been there and left. More likely he was at her house…which is why I was not at his house the night before. I think Saturday that weekend he might have gone to the memorial get together for his friend who died. I bet she went with him. She knew the friend too. I think they first connected when she commented on his picture on FB. Maybe he even called her to tell her. Since she wasn’t really married…… Maybe he spent the night with her. Maybe their first night together again. Maybe not. Maybe he came home and texted me about it. I can’t remember, it was 7 months ago. But I’m sure he started seeing her then. And then he had me over Sunday.
He just said he wanted to focus on himself, on his house, his yardwork, he’d been in a relationship for all his life, he wanted to see what it was like alone…..He still wanted to see me, just not as often for awhile.
Because he had her now.
(This is only a rough timeline. I didn’t always write about it when I was with him, apparently. I know I was the weekend of March 30. I know that was not the last time I was at his house, so I think this is approximately right.)
But he didn’t respect me or his relationship with her enough to tell me the truth. He could tell me the truth about Samantha the prison whore, but not Betty. He couldn’t tell me the truth about her until I was ready to come down there and find her there. He disregarded everything either of us ever said to him about not wanting any part of a relationship like that.
All summer he tried to get me to be part of an intense physical relationship, but nothing else. Because we had a great physical relationship. When I began to realize that’s what he wanted, I told him to let me go. Not to come see me if he didn’t want to stay. A couple of times he spent the night, I don’t know how that worked with her, that I got him on a Saturday night. Maybe they were fighting. Maybe she went away. Maybe he lied to her. Who the hell knows? But he gave me just enough to hold on.
Now I get why in early May he was excited to go to Florida with me in early June and suddenly did a 180° turn. I knew something was up then, but I couldn’t figure it out. I was angry about it though. He’d found cheap tickets for us, we’d talked about what we’d do…etc. He was going to rent a car so we could fly into Tampa and then he’d have a car while I visited my mom. And suddenly he wouldn’t go. Broke my heart then. And I got over it, because I fucking loved him.
Sometimes I’d agree, “if that’s the only way I can see you then ok….” More and more often the answer became “…..Let me go if that’s what you want. It’s not what I want.” He wouldn’t do that either. I’d say, “You wanting to find yourself and be alone is fine, but it doesn’t mean I’m sitting in the wings waiting for you whenever you get the urge. If you want to be alone, then be alone.”
Of course, he wasn’t, alone. He had her. But he wouldn’t say so. He wanted us both, hanging around. I could see him anytime from Sunday afternoon til Saturday morning. He could easily, apparently, go from her bed to mine, or mine to hers.
I remember the day of the eclipse, end of September, Sunday night of the weekend before he dropped his bomb. We were texting…I was telling him that the reason our sex life was so good was because I loved him so much. That I couldn’t even participate if I didn’t love him. He suddenly seemed to hear me….he was going to come here and watch the eclipse. He was getting ready to leave and fell down his stairs and couldn’t move. He was laying on the floor on his back. He had been half-thinking of spending the night because I can go into work late on Monday.
And then he couldn’t come. I think that was true…He had been planning to leave when he called me me from the floor. She wouldn’t have been around on a Sunday night, and never would have known if he came over and spent the night.
So we sat on our own decks and watched it, texting occasionally. We both saw the same shooting star. We texted all week from early in the morning til we went to bed. During work. During lunch. Close, intimate, sweet, sexy.
Right up til we went to bed Friday night. I felt he heard and understood me for the first time in ages. I felt close…he said he did too. He texted me at 4 AM when he woke up “for no reason”. Turns out for plenty of reason. At 10:30 he texted me that he was going to be with her.
Set up. So set up. So set up all summer for him to devastate me. At the moment I loved him the most, he brought me down, he crushed me.
I’ve been pretty good lately. It doesn’t hurt much anymore. Angers me more than hurts. But today, all these random memories from last spring have been just barging into my mind, not knocking at the door, not ringing the doorbell, not asking if they could come in. Slapping my face, ripping open scars, spitting in my face.
All that time. He could tell me about the prison whore, who meant nothing to him. But he couldn’t tell me about Betty, who he claims now, he loved. He couldn’t even honor her by telling me the truth. He couldn’t respect her wishes. He couldn’t honor me or respect me and my wishes. What did I do to deserve that? I loved him so much, I was always there for him. I asked very little of him. Whatever he wanted. We had fun together, we played, we flirted, but for me…it was always within the confines of just us. It was just two people who cared for each other being intimate.
I want to get back to forgiveness. I’m happier there, but tonight I’m hurting. It won’t take so long, it won’t hurt as deep this time but it hurts. He’ll read this, and he’ll hide away from me. What does he care, he didn’t care for those 6 months. He’s probably hiding from Betty too. Why should he wonder if the women whose lives he ripped up for his own pleasure are ok? He can’t do anything about it, but if it was me, I’d still want to know that they were not still laying on the ground bleeding.
I know he’s a sick man. I mean, mentally ill, to do this to anyone. I also know he’s not going to do anything about it. He’s not going to face his demons, he’s going to let them have free rein. He’s going to go to his grave believing that he was hurt by all this. All this that he created, and he set up, and he caused with his lies and deception to feed his own ego. Eventually, I’ll feel sorry for him. Eventually.
Not tonight. Tonight, I’d like to know that he feels the depth of my pain. Tonight I’d like to know he has even a modicum of remorse for the way he shattered me, and left me lying there in pieces. Tonight I’d like to know that it all meant something to him, something more than great sex. I wonder if he knows how much audacity he had to ask me to help him with Betty, after he ripped my heart out and chewed it up and spit it out in a bloody mess. He wanted me to help him deal with the lies and deception of another woman, without any consideration as to what those lies and deception did to me. As if I should just understand, because he didn’t love me, he loved her. As if that somehow made my pain less intense. You’d be hard pressed to make me believe he loved anyone but himself. Playing two women all summer, lying to them both, deceiving them both. That’s not love S. That’s self gratification, like jerking off. One was an old fuck, one was a new one. But we were both just a fuck for you. We both know it.
I know I’ll never get what I wish I’d gotten even a little of. I’m left to dry my own tears, and put my own self back together, and start walking again, away from him, toward a new life.
I had emotions today ranging from pure anger at the bold-faced lies I was told, to that feeling of great sorrow for him. It seems that the height and depth of the emotions are evening out. None of them last long anymore. Thought about sending him the song “Forever Young” by Bob Dylan. Because I think at the end of the day that’s what I wish for him. But I ended up on middle ground, knowing that the journey which he needs to take is one he has to embark on himself, and take by himself, and choose by himself, and I need to not add my energy to the mix. He always said to me he’s never been alone, he’s been in relationships for 40 years. He has the opportunity now, to do some real work. I hope it’s what he’ll choose.
It is generally exhausting for me anyway, our connection has always been so strong. I have a couple of crystal pendulums and when I’ve received strong energetic messages from him they have been confirmed for the most part. I am learning to let them come and go. I am trying to pay attention to what I need, and let the rest go. I told him he was dead to me, because I don’t want any on-going communication, and because I can’t take finding out one more untruth. But I think I will always care for the man I loved, the one pre-Betty who was trying to be someone. I will always love the child who steers the riverboat. He was headed for the deep, but now he’s in it, and he has to find his way back alone. I hope he can do it.
I slept 7 hours last night, the first time all week I’ve gotten a decent night’s sleep. I was at peace finally. The truth is on the table and now can be dealt with by the universe and the people involved. I can go on with my life and know I did the right thing.
I always told S when he was breaking up with me, which happened in 18 months a few times, that it would hurt, but I was strong and would get over it. I always knew I would. He said, “You aren’t strong. You crumble like a little girl.” He was the one who crumbled, when I said ok, go….he never could. He could never walk away. He still can’t.
Although I did crumble. But I could also put myself back together. I knew what to do, how to do it. I guess my ex gave me practiced. When I found out about Betty, I didn’t think I’d be able to put myself back together. I have never hurt so much in my life. It was his cruelty in the way he told me, not that he wanted to be with her. It was his callous disregard for the way I loved him. But just over 6 weeks later, I have myself almost back together.
I bet that S has changed his mind about whether or not I am strong now.
My biggest problem going forward will be sensing his feelings, sensing what is going on with him. I still have no explanation as to why I do this, but there have always been people with whom I can do this.
The first time was when my ex and I were about 30. We lived on a lake, and our neighbor kid who was about 20,used to go water skiing with us a lot, often we’d have him over to eat after. One day we came home from a trip, and he came over. He was in the living room talking to my ex, I was in the kitchen. I began shaking, literally. I sensed some really dark horrible energy, and I wasn’t into energy work at all. I called him into the kitchen, and told him, “I don’t know what’s happening, but you need to get him out of the house, NOW. ” My ex didn’t argue, he just did it.
Six months later, the kid went down the street, and killed an old woman and stole her car.
It still creeps me out.
I tend to listen to these messages, and will continue. If I determine they are warnings to me, I will act. Otherwise, I’ll let them go. A psychic told me that S was sucking my energy dry, that I didn’t have to do anything about the vibe I got from him, I got them because I am an empath. And that I needed to turn the energy in on myself.
This will be my aim going forward. To do what is right for me, and to let go the vibes I get from S. And anyone else they come from. I told her I thought I knew him in a past life, she said that could well be true.
I was so relieved to hear that I was not expected to deal with the crazy info that I would get at random times.
I have a gong bath tonight, perfect timing. I am so grateful to wake up to no drama today, the drama is all over in his corner, and it’s what he loves. He feels most loved when someone is crying over him. Lord knows he did it enough with me, and while I was crying he would make me laugh, hard, endearing himself to me.
He told that every woman in his life has hurt him. I thought, I won’t join that club. I loved him so much, beyond reason, without limit. As it turns out, I’m sure in his mind I hurt him. Badly. I don’t expect he will ever take ownership of this story.
If he was smart, he would take this whole episode as a gift, as the gift of ruin, as rock bottom emotionally, and begin to transform into someone he could be proud of, that could love himself, and others with his whole heart. He would direct this energy inward, and do some real soul-searching to figure out why he finds it so necessary to manipulate people. It was, really, an act of love, to make him accountable for his actions, even though he will never see it that way.
I don’t think he will ever get that.
If he’s smart, he will use this time to do what he told me he wanted to do all summer when he made up this story so he could be with Betty every weekend. Be alone, learn to be alone. Learn who he is, and change what he doesn’t like. Discover his passions, figure out what he wants for the rest of his life. I hope he does this.
But it’s not my problem anymore. I’m running to the light. I’m tying up the loose ends of my emotions around this, and connecting all the dots, and every minute I feel better and more distant from all the chaos of the last few months.
I can look at S, as someone I loved, I can feel the same detached sorrow for him as I do for my ex. A detached sorrow, that he feels so unlovable, that he has to lie and manipulate people into his life. He has done it so much that he just lies as a way of life, just like my ex. As far as me….he had me at hello. He just couldn’t believe it. I bet it was that way that way for Betty too.
Onward….onward.
I love intimate communication. The kind of conversations you have where you learn about the other persons soul, where there is no judgement, only give and take, and connections are made.
I have these conversations with my friends, often. It requires the willingness to be vulnerable, to put yourself out there, to show up and be seen, but it also creates connection that is unbreakable. I think when a relationship ends, for me, it is the loss of communication that I miss the most. When a friend moves away, I miss the late night conversations the most. The talks on the deck late into the night over a glass of wine, or a cigarette. (I don’t smoke, but some of my friends do, or did.)
I do a lot of texting during the day, because at work, my office is a big open space, and most everyone can hear a phone conversation. Texting is quiet, and something you can do when you have a minute, a conversation can go on for a long time, it doesn’t require that you stop an important task at work to continue the conversation.
I just don’t like when texting takes over for real conversation all the time. It is nice to hear the other person’s voice, to add the additional information that audio gives you. The way you can tell if the person on the other end of the line is pensive, or happy, or sad. If they are being glib or earnest. I like that I text with Jim but it doesn’t take over, we still talk by phone. Even A, when we get into a sweet intimate conversation talking about our relationship, past and present, will call me. I have had what I thought were real, truthful, intimate conversations via text, but found out later, they were just a diversion. So, I don’t trust texting now, for any personal, intimate conversation.
Communication, real, intimate, truthful, sweet conversation is just such a blessing.
Writing…is also a great way to communicate. I am generally more eloquent with the written word, lol. I can look at what I write, and review it, and see if it’s exactly what I meant. I have been known to send huge long texts…..the kind that are received on the other end as 10 texts, lol. Just because it’s my comfort zone at times, and at times when what I have to say I can’t say, verbally, to the other party, for whatever reason. Because I’m not somewhere where I can talk, but it needs to be said. Because I’m too emotional to be able to spit it all out verbally.
Tonight when I go to dinner with Jim, I’m going to work at building an open and easy communication, because while he so far has been willing to show up and put himself out there, I can see he’s still not comfortable with it. And me, I suppose I am more willing, but it’s my nature, first of all, to say, “This is me, I will be this person today, tonight and tomorrow….” But also, I have been working for years now, to connect with myself and know who I am.
And still, I learn more every day. Close, intimate conversations with others where you listen, speak, and exchange ideas is how we learn about ourselves. We see what is reflected back to us, we see where we want to go, and where we don’t.
Communication, really, is how we connect, if we are real and honest and willing.
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