Winding Down

Ah. Winding down. Friday night. Was supposed to go to a gong bath, but they canceled it. It’s rare that they ever cancel one, but it’s about 5° out, wind chill in the ungodly sub-zero’s. Which would mean all the equipment would have to be hauled out and loaded in the truck, and then unloaded at the church, then reloaded after. 8 gongs, and their stands and the bowls and the drums, and hell, I wouldn’t want to do it either.

But dang I was looking forward to it. At last weeks gong bath, I was able to begin to really process all my emotions regarding S. I had not been to a gong bath since “it” happened. Funny it seems ages ago, but it’s only been about a month I guess. Maybe 5 weeks. Seems so much longer. But in the end, I knew the road I had to travel. So I was looking forward to this week, to continuing this journey, to finding my center even more clearly defined.

It has been difficult for me, and for him. For different reasons. For me, because even though I knew I needed to break it off, that it was not healthy for me to be prolonging the final ending of this relationship, I still loved the guy, I had pretty deep feelings, I missed him like crazy, I wanted his energy around me. Didn’t want to let go. Still wish I hadn’t had to, completely.

For him…idk. I can’t really speak for him. I know he enjoyed flirting with me, I know he enjoyed our intimate conversations, I know he enjoyed my fearless outspokenness. We both enjoyed the other’s honesty. I know he enjoyed our physical relationship, and so did I and we will both miss that.

But you know, it needed to grow, to evolve. It was time. I was all for the evolution of it. He was not. So he did what he did in large part, to end it rather than evolve with me. And even then…he did not end it right away. But now…I see…it’s ended. It went round about. My emotions went up and down and on and off, until the gong bath last week, when they pretty much went to the off side. We talked, since. But when he began his flirting with heavy sexual content, I asked him to stop. And again. And again.

Because I don’t want to go there again. And really…it still hurts me, to think about what happened. Maybe some day I can joke about it. But now, right now, it is still raw. I wanted the evolution. I didn’t want the break-up. It hurts still.

I wonder why someone would want to stay in the same place…especially at this age. Why would you want to grow old alone? Face all your nights alone, and with whatever advanced age brings you. Why would you not want to be with someone who understands you, gets you, loves you, enjoys you, someone who will sit with you through your pain, and celebrate with you your triumphs. Why not be with someone with whom you can learn to play each other’s bodies like a fine instrument?

A one night stand will never get you those things. Strange will always be strange. It will never be comfortable, close, loving. It might be exciting for a few minutes. A partner can be exciting forever.

I don’t get it. I really don’t.

But…I do accept it. I accept that S doesn’t see it the same way, and he needs to follow his heart, like I told him. And I need to follow mine. I accept that he doesn’t want to talk to me, or be part of my life in another capacity. At least, at the moment. I accept that our roads have diverged. I’m not crying over it. I’m really ok with it. I have no regrets.

I went on a date last night, with a man a bit older than me. On paper we had a lot in common. Creative, love the water, boats, cruising. But there were no sparks. We met for coffee. Then he invited me to dinner. We talked, it was interesting, pleasant, but there won’t be another date.

No connection. With S…there was connection before we even met. I guess that’s why I couldn’t quite envision not having him in my life at all. But whatever, it’s not my call. I made my position quite clear, in my never to be subtle way, that I wanted him in my life, but that we needed to redefine our relationship, set new parameters. He was not so clear, but his actions said he only wanted it as it was.

I have to remember that all relationships are fluid, constantly moving, changing. We are all moving like water, in our own way, around obstacles, over the rough spots smoothing them out, breaking through the dams of our emotions. Who knows what’s next for any of us?

Just, livin’ like water. Getting back to source.

With Love and Gratitude, Good bye.

So I broke it off with him. I spent the night with him the night before he went in the hospital. I was scared. I was allowing myself to love him, setting myself up for hurt again, at some point. But I didn’t let it stop me. I thought about how I wanted to be there for him. I wanted him to have a nice memory to think of and wake up to when he came out of the anesthesia. I wanted him to know that someone cared how he was, and whether or not he hurt, or felt alone. I wanted that. I loved him. I loved him whole heartedly, without consideration of what he had done. It was true and honest and I don’t regret it.

The two days he was at the hospital, I worried over him. He didn’t get me the patient code as he’d promised, so I had to go through roundabout ways to find out if he was ok, or spending the night, or released. People I worked with didn’t understand why I cared so much. Hell, I didn’t understand. But I did. That’s all. I did. So I talked to him that night, and the next morning. He was in so much pain. I would have liked to just be there, sitting beside him. Just so he didn’t have to open his eyes and be alone.

But that wasn’t the way it was. There was too much water under the dam. I was going to take the time off from work, but he chose to go it alone. As he always does. I was afraid, anyway, to be so close to him. Because I still loved him, and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he did not feel the same.

But then, what he thinks of me is none of my business. Right? I don’t know if it’s smart to allow myself to be so vulnerable. But I did, it’s done. I don’t think I regret it, because I gave it everything. It was his to accept or deny. He chose denial in the end. Why? I have my theories. But only he knows, somewhere in his soul, why he didn’t want the woman who loved him.

But then the gong bath happened…

And the next morning I woke up and didn’t care that much. I still cared, but not the same way. It was not visceral, it was not that intense, heavy kind of caring. I think it came together for me as a result of the gong bath. Suddenly, I knew he would never love me, that if I stayed with him, I would be repeatedly hurt by him. It is not his fault…it is mine, I stayed knowing he and I were not compatible on many things. One of them is our views on sex, and monogamy. And there were other things…which are none of anyone else’s business, personal things that he and I could not come to common ground on that I kept pushing into the background, because I loved him. But eventually, they would have surfaced, you know…those things you bury don’t die….they rot and fester and make you sick. In a relationship, they make the relationship sick. They cause resentment, and anger, and feelings of rejection, and loss of self esteem. I knew that would happen.

Trouble was, he was still in a lot of pain on Friday. I didn’t want to talk to him about it. Not until he felt better. We talked, I tried to be my same loving self, but I know the difference in how I felt showed through the phone lines. The next day he asked, what exactly is going on with you.

He knew. We have always communicated on a nonverbal plane when we are apart. He knew. Thus began a long and hard conversation. It was still too early to have it, but he knew,and I couldn’t lie. Or pretend it was different. I told him, I still love you, but I don’t think I’m in love with you.

And so, now, after 36 hours of texting, questions, accusations and then an attempt to see me to say good bye, we are done. I was not ready to see him. I don’t think I’m in love with him, but there is still hurt and rejection over the betrayal. Seeing him is painful. I told him, not yet. Maybe later. He got mad. I’m sorry he got mad. I’m sorry I couldn’t just see him and wish him well. But truth is…the wound has healed enough for me to see clearly, but it still hurts. The way an incision hurts under the surface for a longtime. I know we are mis-matched, and I know neither of us would ever be happy going forward. I don’t believe I could ever quite let go of his betrayal if I stayed with him. It would come back every time I felt threatened, every time he flirted with a waitress, or the girl behind the counter at the drug store. I would have made him miserable, and I would have been too. I told him, the prison whore sunk our ship, at the end of the day.

I will miss him. I will miss his flirty, sexual innuendo’d texts. I will miss having him in my life, kind of having a “significant other” after all the years of being alone. I will miss our excursions. Sunday afternoon naps. His wild and crazy stories of his youth. His hands. His passion.

But I won’t miss that feeling in the pit of my stomach when I don’t know where he is. I won’t miss the questions, I won’t miss the distrust that is now there permanently.

Done. Gonna take some time off. Let the wound heal, so that it’s not even tender before I meet the next guy. I don’t want to bring baggage into a new relationship, just like I took off years before I started this one, to try not to bring baggage from my marriage to it. And still, the baggage was there. There is relationship baggage you don’t know about until you are in a relationship, I found out. It wasn’t easy, this first one. But it was fun. It created growth in me. And I know myself much better. I know what I want better today than before I met him.

So…I thank him, I love him. We are done. May we both continue our journey back to source.