No More Heartbreak

I was with my ex-husband for just shy of 40 years.  We met when we were 18, married at 25, divorced at 58.  In that time, he broke my heart 1000 times.  Rivers of tears, countless sleepless nights.  Days of deep-seated fear, hours of sheer terror.  A broken heart was not something I wanted to revisit.

I left him when I was 55, almost 56.  I felt only relief from the moment I was gone.  And fear for my son, who stayed with him.  But mostly relief, that my world upon waking would be the same as when I went to bed.

When I was 63 I met S. A full 7 years after leaving my ex.  I was attracted to him before we even met.  I have often commented on our connection.  It seemed uncanny, it seemed that we had to already know each other on some level.  It’s never been a balanced relationship, but it’s been fun, interesting, and passionate. But then, last winter, he fucked the prison whore, and broke my heart.  To his credit, he knew he was going to break my heart, and tried to break it of with me before he did that.  But I was too convincing, I guess, in my misery, and sadness, and he couldn’t do it.

Since then….it has been off again, on again for us.  We have that connection, a physical desire, but we want different things from life, I guess.  We see things differently.  We react to things differently.  And the places we came from on our separate journeys were a long ways apart.  Each time now, that we are off again, it is a little harder to put it back on.  No matter that the love is there, will always be, it just isn’t making either of us happy.  My heart is broken again, I am guessing that his heart is feeling a little pain too, but I could be wrong.  I can’t speak for him.

Then there is A….who I met after the thing with the prison whore.  We became close.  A loves me, is not afraid to be vulnerable and tell me exactly how he feels.  He knows I have this thing with S.  A, however, is not here.  He’s off on his grand adventure, and sends me pics and  tells me how he misses me, and loves me, but he’s not here.  He’s out west, in one of the national parks….he won’t be settled in for probably a year.  There is no future really there.  And I never could drum up the passion for him.  But love, yes, I love the man. He treats me like gold. I think his purpose in my life is to remind me how I should be treated.

When I first told him I was going to see S again, he sent me a beautiful email, telling me he knows he only offers heartbreak on a platter, because he knew he would be leaving on this great adventure, but that he would balance it with love and tenderness.

But God, I didn’t want another heartbreak.  I don’t want any more of them.  I want to love someone who can love me back, fully, unafraid….  I am tired of the games people play in their heads, holding back out of fear, fear not caused by me, but by a past love.  Fear which has no basis in the present, but still colors everything.  I’m tired of having a passionate physical relationship, which never carries over into life, and living.

I think I’d just rather be alone that deal with another heartbreak.  I’m not saying that if someone came into my view I wouldn’t give it a chance.  I’d sure like to find the love that lasts before I leave this earth.  But I think when it begins to go bad, I need to just let it go, instead of trying to make it work.  Better to be alone, and whole, than have my heart axed in two again.

Change and Connection

I sat outside last night for a few minutes before I went to bed. I was tired, I have been sleeping poorly, as I guess could be expected from the events of the weekend. I hadn’t talked to S for most of the day. I gazed at the half moon, with thin clouds racing by it.  Sitting out there, I could feel S’s sadness. I knew he was at his home, 50 miles away, and feeling bad. I messaged him, and my intuition, that connection we have, was right.

I know he just doesn’t get it, why I just can’t do it anymore, why things can’t stay as they were for me.

The only thing that is permanent, is change.

My emotions of the last week, maybe 2, have been more and more to separate our lives, to end this relationship that never could get off the ground. I look at him, and I love him in that unconditional way. I accept who he is, I accept the direction he has wanted to take. He is the one who has come to me in times when he’s been introspective, to tell me he needs to be on his own, he needs to find out who he is by himself, without being attached to someone.

I totally support that.  I can’t imagine being this age and not knowing what I want.  I have told him to do it, to keep me in the loop if he wants.  I have told him I’m not going anywhere right now.  No one can forsee the future. But if we keep the communication open, we can remain friends, and honor the connection that I find rather exceptional.  It doesn’t mean that we have to be intimate, it means that we can remain close friends, if he wants to.

Right now, we want different things.  Neither of us can cross over to the other side, not and remain true to ourselves.

I know…that in the end, he knows that, he will get it, that we want such different lives. At least, that’s how it seems to me. Since he doesn’t know what he wants, I guess I can’t speak for him. But I certainly want something different from the relationship I have had had with him, than he wants.

I think it’s just hard to be single at this age. I don’t think anyone makes it to being single in their 60’s and doesn’t have baggage, even though I have seen profiles of men who say they don’t. They do, they have just buried it. I’ve tried to let mine bubble up and deal with it when it does. It’s not always easy. Like I told S, early in our relationship, he was the first man in my life since my marriage, and even though I thought I took plenty of time to be aware of my baggage, my triggers, there are some you don’t even know about until you are in a relationship. And lucky him…he got to experience those.

Don’t worry, he had plenty of his own, to pay me back, lol.

But the fact remains….I’m ready to move past friendship. I’m ready for someone to love me, the way I loved him. I’m using past tense, because I feel like there’s no way back. It will take time for those emotions to ebb to the actual flow of the events.

It was fun, for awhile. But since I came back from Florida in March, when he came to my house and came as close to saying he loved me as he ever would, it’s been work. The enthusiasm is gone, the desire to just hang out isn’t there. For him it’s backed off to wanting an occasional “nice afternoon”. For me, it’s progressed to “I would have liked to spend Saturday night until Monday night with you this weekend.”

How’s that ever going to work?

It’s not. And I’m OK with it. I really am. Enough water has passed over the dam that my grip has loosened, I am not holding on any longer. I’m sure S’s grip is also loose, he maybe isn’t as clear on why as me, I hope he gains that clarity.

I hope we remain friends. We’ll see.

In the meantime, I wish him love and light. Always.

On Being a Safe Place

I took today and pretty much wasted the day. It felt luxurious.

I went on the deck when I got up, with my coffee, my meditation, my lap top.  I had a friend over for awhile, I stayed outside all day.

Meditation was on “Honoring Your True Self”. I chose that one from my Deepak Chopra app on my phone, because, I have not felt that I was honoring myself. Others also were not. But….I don’t really care whether others do or not, as long as I do.

I have been beating myself up for making stupid choices. For ignoring signs. For doing that thing that we are so warned about: Not believing someone when they tell us who they are.

S would occasionally tell me I should dump him, and run, because he was going to hurt me. He told me that last January….and then went and fucked the prison whore. I took him back, I couldn’t let go.

Why? I don’t know. I think that more than being driven by love, I was driven by the uncanny connection we have had, reading each other’s emotions from a great distance, knowing what each other felt when we had not been talking and had no knowledge. I have never had that kind of connection with another person, and it seemed something worth holding onto.

Now…he has been pulling away since spring. I have been pulling him back. For the same reason. It is clear he did not ever, nor would ever love me. At least, not in the way I needed. I think he did, in his own way and in his own time.

Did I love him, really?

I don’t know. I enjoyed his company, and I could read him, if I was with him, or if I was not. I think I mistook that for love.

I have unconditional love for almost everyone, at least, I try. So, for him too. When he told me his secrets, I forgave him. I still do, even tho some of the things he told me many people would judge as unforgivable. Things he never told another soul.

Why me? I don’t know. The connection, I guess. He felt it too. He felt I understood him, I would guess, though he never said that. He did this early on in our relationship. He told me things he had not told either of his ex-wives or his ex gf.

He had developed a personna for them, trying to be who he wanted to be, who he hoped to be, I guess. For me, he didn’t feel the need.

I’m not angry with him now. I think he had a need, now, in his life, to have someone in the background, who knew his secrets. With whom he could fully be himself without pretense. Our connection enabled that. So…I’m not mad about his playing me, his keeping me a secret now, because I think I understand what my place was in his life as far as he was concerned. It was not done maliciously. It was a need he had, that I fulfilled.

It just wasn’t what I wanted out of the relationship. I wanted a man in my life, who could and would grow to love me. Who would let me share his life, as he shared mine.

S couldn’t do that, because if he let me into his life, his kids, his friends…..then I was no longer that safe place for him. I might see the difference in who they thought he was, vs who I thought he was. I might slip….and let them somehow know he wasn’t the man they thought he was.

I get it. I really do.

He had a need to be real to someone, because he holds his cards so close to his chest, because he has created a personna for others that was not really the authentic hm, that was greater than his need for honesty with me.

I’m still not mad about it. I don’t want him in my life, now, because I see that what I want will never ever be possible. If I stayed with him, I would have to remain his secret place to go, so he could feel some relief from the act he needed to put on for people every day.

I love him kind of unconditionally. I feel sorry for him, that he’s felt he had to do this with his life. He’s been doing it all his life, and doesn’t know how not to. It’s not romantic love when you feel the unconditional love for someone, it’s acceptance of who they are.

So, after all is said and done, after I’ve sat with my sadness and my anger, I feel for the guy. I needed more…I want more….he can’t give it. He has to keep showing up at the ex’s BBQ’s and maintain the personna that everyone believes is him.

Everyone but me.

I don’t look at him as a bad man, or a good man, just a man. Just a man I knew and once loved. I wish him peace. I don’t know what will become of the connection that we have had. I don’t suppose it will disappear, but I think I need to try to ignore it. It leads me in the wrong direction, away from the things I want out of the rest of my life. I’m not sure I CAN ignore it, but for the time being, while my heart heals, with this kind of new epiphany of understanding I have, I need to ignore it, and honor my own true self.

BEWARE

Beware Some People Will Sell You A Dream And Deliver A Nightmare

Beware of Those Who Play Their Cards Close to their Chest

Because they are lying to everyone. They only tell you so much, so they can manipulate your thinking about who they are. And then they go on to the next person, and only tell them so much, so they can manipulate that persons thinking just as they did yours.

I was a secret. No one knew about me. Oh, he told me they did, a long time ago. But I was never introduced. I never met his kids. I never met his friends. If they called while I was in the car he either didn’t mention me, or said he wasn’t alone, but never, that he was with me. How stupid could I be? After a year……

Meanwhile…I was falling in love with the person he coached me on. I was writing all the secretiveness off to “he’s just not ready yet…” making excuses for him. Like an idiot. Like a fool.

After all, he took me to his “special places”. Bullshit, special. Bullshit. They were just beautiful places that he knew, from living there forever. It was just part of setting me up to love him.

For 2 weeks I reminded him a 3 day weekend was coming up. I was met each time with, “It’s 2 weeks away…..” I reminded him my son would be gone, I’d have the house to myself. I had visions….hopes….dreams….

But what I got was….an offer to come here for an afternoon. And a lot of grief again, for wanting to plan ahead, to plan for more.

Last week we met and talked, I did not want to be friends with benefits. If that’s what he wanted then we should split up. If he doesn’t know what he wants, then he should figure it out, by himself, and if he wanted to, check in with me when he knew.

Yesterday after explaining and re-explaining it for 36 hours…that I was not interested in an afternoon. A “nice afternoon” as he put it. That was the offer. After 5 or 6 times of saying “Look either come for the night and the day tomorrow or don’t come….” He finally told me he had a “family BBQ” at his ex wife’s that night, and wanted to watch the Indy 500 on tv tomorrow.

As if he didn’t know this 3 days ago. After playing me all day and night and morning this morning, bitching at me for wanting to make plans, for never being satisfied, for trying to control things.  All the while withholding information so that he could manipulate and control me.

He’s been hiding this, trying to manipulate me into believing that I am too demanding,that I want too much, because I wanted to spend time with him.  He probably went to his “family BBQ” and played the poor guy who’s girlfriend of 13 years left him last January after he put in a new kitchen for her out of his own pocket, and then got married. Never let them know he was in the process of fucking over a woman who adored him.

Gee….I wonder how sick the girlfriend was of his games. Imagine 12 or 13 years of this.

Me…I only lost a year to him. Believing his lies to me about how he was open to whatever happened. He was open to whatever he managed to make happen, which was to pull me from someone who really loved me, just to do it, and then use me for his own pleasure. How often did we lay together, and the next morning he would tell me how I “scared” him, how he was afraid of the feelings he had for me, and how he didn’t want to be in love or in a relationship.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

I loved him unconditionally. I made excuses for him every time. I made myself vulnerable. I put myself on the table, emotionally naked and brave, for him to use. Believing that he wouldn’t AB-use me. I was there on every dark day he had. When he had to have surgery, even though he’d fucked the prison whore 2 weeks before, I was there for him. When his best friend died, and he hadn’t talked to me in days, I was there for him.

Because I loved him.

Stupid stupid me.

He didn’t and wasn’t ever going to love me. He wasn’t man enough to walk away from me. He liked the attention. He liked the adoration. He liked my eagerness. He liked what I could do for him. Even though he couldn’t or wouldn’t do it for me.

I loved him anyway

Stupid stupid me.

Allowing myself to be a secret. Allowing someone to use my sexuality for their own pleasure, with no care about how he was using me.

One of these days I will stop beating myself up over being so stupid. But not for a few days.. I drowned my shame in a bottle of rum, last night.  Good rum.  Gosling’s Black Label.  There’s enough left for the rest of the weekend

Gonna try to forget what a foolish woman I am.

Beware of those men, and women, who hold their cards close to their chest. They are full of deceit. And they will hurt you.

I’ve Been Played by an Expert

I’ve been played.  By an expert player. While last night’s poem “Sweet juice of the grape” aptly described where I was then….I just found out the real truth, and I have been so played.  So used.  So uncared for and fucked over.  S is not the man I thought he was, he is not the man I was so in love with.  He knows how to play me, to get my sympathy.  But I tired of his game, and stopped playing and the truth came out, and I am so done with him….more done than I was when he fucked the prison whore.

Right now, I think that’s what he deserves, is a prison whore and no more.  Certainly not a woman who is capable of loving.  I’m gonna go lick my wounds with a bottle of rum, and  have myself a good cry, and when I get back from Florida maybe find a man who deserves me.

I might even give A a call.  We are friends, and I know he’d gladly hang out with me.  He’s moving in a few days, but I bet he’d be happy to do something with me to take my mind off of what S has done to me.  I know I’ll get over S, because I’m capable of it.  Because I know what I want, and even though I thought it was him, now that I know it’s not, I can deal with it.  Hope he can sleep at night with what he’s done.  My ex-husband was called unconscionable 9 times by the CT Supreme Court.  I wonder how many S would get.

i love my strangers :) especially the ones I have memories with aka friends

Sweet Juice of the Grape

letting go

Sweet juice of the grape,

Mask my sorrow,

Hide my pain.

Keep it from cutting a hole in my heart.

I will bleed, if it is on the surface.

I will writhe in pain on my floor.

Sweet juice of the grape,

Drown the voices in my head

and the ones on the phone.

Keep me from racing to him,

begging him to take me just one more time.

Into that place from which I find such great joy

And then such great sorrow.

Sweet juice of the grape

Be my friend.

Be my solace.

Help me find a place

Where his blue eyes will not torment me.

Where his smile will not lure me.

Where I won’t find false comfort in his hands.

Empty my mind of all the memories

Empty my mind of the dreams

Empty my heart, empty my eyes,

Empty all of it, sweet juice of the grape,

Let me forget, for just one night

How I loved him.

How I love him still.

Always……

On Vulnerability and Love

The morning was gray, and quiet. I sat on my deck, having coffee, reading blogs, reading email. Doing some pensive introspection. About myself. About S. About vulnerability.

I have been a champion of vulnerability. I have watched Brene Brown’s TED talk on vulnerability maybe a dozen times. She speaks to what I have always known, but did not form into a cohesive thought until I saw her speak.

I have never been afraid to be vulnerable. Not with my friends, not with strangers, not with the men in my life. Not in my blogs, or my book, or with my son. I do believe that you don’t give someone all your secrets, until they have proven the right to hear them.  I give it out a little at a time, but I give it.  I will initiate it.  I am not afraid of it.

I believe it is the only way to have a real, fulfilling, human experience. I believe, as Brene does, that it is the birthplace of creativity, of joy. It is the ying of the yang. You can’t know joy if you don’t risk something. You can’t be creative if you are afraid of failure. You can’t expect someone to open up to you their deepest darkest secrets if you won’t share in kind.

Vulnerability means that you take a risk, you put yourself out there. Not knowing what the outcome will be, if you think that there might be a reward that makes it worthwhile. There is no risk-free existence. You can’t imagine that just because you love someone they will always love you back. You can’t believe that everything will always stay the same. Change happens. And when it happens, and you hurt from it, instead of closing your heart, you have to thank God you are able to love so passionately, so fully. Because it means you are alive. If you hurt….it is the ying to the yang. There is no great reward without great suffering.

Ram Dass tells a story about his guru, who when given the option of love vs. suffering, chose suffering, because it was then that he would grow. Learn about himself.

So, we wish those who cause us to suffer, love and light. We let them go on their way, in their life, and hope that they find joy. We find ourselves better prepared to go on with LIFE, and LIVING, because we have a deeper understanding of what brings us joy, and peace.

One of my favorite quotes is from Khalil Gibran. It states:

Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.

I have a friend who was devastated by an ex. This persons heart is closed now, for the most part. They do not want to love again, to risk giving of themselves because the pain is so great. I see cracks in the wall occasionally. But the person quickly fills them in, and retreats behind the wall again.

To me, it is like being dead before you are dead. So love didn’t work out that time, or the time before. Maybe it worked for awhile, a long while, and then it changed. Change is part of life. Loving to me is living. I cant’ separate the love of a person, from love of myself, my family, of every living thing. To stop one is to diminish all. Because they are all connected.

This being said….if we love someone to the best of our ability, and they choose not to return it for whatever reason, it’s not healthy for us to continue to dream that they will. There is a time to let go, and acknowledge that this is not the one for you. It comes with self awareness. Let go with joy, wishing all blessings and happiness to that person. And then risk being vulnerability again.

Never forget that once you decide what you want, the universe will conspire to make that happen. Thoughts become things, so think the thoughts about what you want. Not about what you don’t.

And live. LIVE.

Inaction is Also an Action

Its raining this morning which suits my mood.

I haven’t heard from S for a long while, not since he wanted me to talk to him about why I was upset as I tried to go to bed Thursday night, and I said I didn’t want to talk about it now, that I wanted to go to sleep (because I haven’t felt well, and haven’t been sleeping all that well, and am trying to beat the bug I have, if that’s what it is.) I knew talking about it would upset me, I could already feel the stirring in my solar plexus. I needed to hang up before it was tumbling and turning and keeping me up all night, yet again.

My few texts yesterday were met with silence, except one I sent to him in error, to answer a friend’s text. I don’t know what it means. Usually he comes back with “if you don’t hear from me for a day it doesn’t mean anything except you didn’t hear from me for a day.”

I find that unacceptable, it discounts my feelings. It feels like the silent treatment abusers use (my ex husband comes to mind) to let you know they are displeased. With my ex-h, I got to the point I was glad for it, because it meant I didn’t have to listen to him pontificate on what horrendous and unforgivable things I had done. With S…it is not so intent, I think it means he just doesn’t want to talk to me.

Well, that says something doesn’t it? I mean, no action is neutral, really. Not doing something is also an action. Right now, I am meeting inaction with inaction. It seems easier, at the moment, than hearing his voice with it’s lack of interest. The result will be separation, if it continues, what else can result?

I still trust the universe to work it all out for our higher good. I’m adjusting. I have a pretty busy weekend coming up. Even if not…I won’t have to question my sanity. It’s not what I wanted, but its what I’m given to deal with. I’m good at that, dealing with what is, I think. Or, getting better anyway. I’m getting a lot of practice.

Learning to Love What Is

I’m trying to work some stuff out here.

I’ve got some kind of bug. My throat is a little sore causing some laryngitis, and my right eye is a little weepy. I have carpal tunnel in my right hand, arm, wrist, which has been acting up. And this morning, the fingers on my left hand are quite stiff and sore in the joints.

I’m a believer in the emotional component of all illness. I am quite rarely sick, this maybe the first time in a couple years. So I am looking at all the symptoms, with Louise Hay’s book by my side “You Can Heal Your Life”.

A sore throat has to do with holding in angry words and feeling unable to express yourself, the inability to speak up for one’s self, swallowed anger, stifled creativity and refusal to change. Issues with the throat in general have to do with expression, creativity.

Carpal Tunnel Syndrome has to do with frustration and anger at seeming injustices of life.

Arthritis has to do with feeling unloved, criticism and resentment.

Our hands and wrists have to do with the ease through which we move through change.

Eyes have to do with the capacity to see clearly. Eye problems have to do with not liking what you see in your own life.

I have had an ongoing issue with someone for the last couple of weeks. I wanted this person to do something that they were not comfortable with, quite simply. And I was pushing and they were resisting. It seemed a no brainer to me. Something that would have been fun, enjoyable…whatever. To them it was maybe those things, but maybe not. I can’t speak for them, only or myself.

So….as it turned out it came to a head last night. This person is not going to do this thing with me. I am going to do it alone.

I felt sorry for myself. I felt unloved. I criticized myself, feeling I wasn’t good enough. I also did not feel I was able to express myself fully, not on this subject, nor others with this person, because often I think that expressing what I really feel puts them under pressure. So I swallow it, and don’t say it, when I clearly want to.

This person refused to talk to me about it anymore last night, and cut me off from communication. I was angry, resentful.

Thus, all my symptoms.

Coincidentally, I have been reading Byron Katie’s “The Work” for our book club. And I put the 4 questions to only one of these problems, since it is a process taking time.

I realized that I have been stifling what I had to say about the situation. But I did that on purpose because I knew it would not come out with any loving intent, and I didn’t want to go there with this person. But you know what happens to the stuff you bury…..It makes you sick. Voila! I am sick.

I felt very unloved, and was beating myself up for being so pushy last night. I woke up with a very sore left hand. I am loved, even if not in the way I want to be, but by many others, and by this person as well. The person’s choice not to do this thing with me doesn’t reflect whether or not I am cared about by them, only that they were not comfortable with this particular thing.

But I railed against it, and how frustrating and unfair it was, and guess what, my carpal tunnel has been acting up all week.

I am not moving through changes easily, I am not accepting what is. My joints hurt.

And lastly, I don’t like what I’m seeing, and my right eye is bothering me.

Pretty clear, that the body follows the mind, isn’t it?

So…..doing The Work last night brought me to these conclusions. I don’t love myself. I am afraid of change. My thoughts are not creating a joyful and abundant life for me, but one of lack.

This is all about me, not about this person. It is not what they have done but about my reaction to what they feel. Like Byron Katie says, “Who would you be if you didn’t have that thought?”

I would be excited to do this thing on my own. I would share it, and the excitement, with this person, instead of putting the burden on them to create the excitement with me, and thus in some ways, for me. I would be happy I was doing it, whether or not I was alone.

I want to say maybe it’s meant to be, that I do it alone. Maybe there is a door opening there that I am too blind to see, or to fearful to want to walk through. But why? Because it is what it is. The reality is that I’m doing it alone, so I need to rejoice in that. I need to love what is. Why? Because it is what is happening, and it’s not something I can change. The universe doesn’t screw up, I have trusted it before to work things out for my highest good, and for this person’s. And so this must be it.

This person may join me in this at some point. They have said that. But they can’t right now, so I’ll forge ahead, and repeat to myself every minute that I can that I am loved, I love myself, I will create a joyful life, and I will accept the way life unfolds before me. By myself, I will do this, I will not burden another with these things.

I will walk through the fear I have of doing these things alone, and realize I am quite capable of enjoying them on my own. I’ll find my way.

Acceptance of what is is hard, until we actually realize we have no choice. So we can be mad about it, and ruin this moment, or we can accept it, and find some joy in it, and go forward happily.

I will choose the 2nd reaction. I’m sure it gets easier with practice.

It’s all a lesson in learning to live like water.