I had a rough day yesterday. Feelings of being taken for granted permeated my brain, my being, from the people at work, to S. I was angry by the afternoon.
At work, the lead admin is on vacation. Her desk is deemed the most important admin job because she supports the sales of our biggest, main product. When she is gone, I cover her desk. I have always done this, no one else knows how to do it. Of course, no one covers mine while I cover hers, and my work generally gets behind. This time, it has fallen way behind because we are all unbelievably busy. My boss seems to be oblivious to it all, and just keeps piling tasks on me, which someone else could do but he’s afraid they will get mucked up. I’m afraid they won’t get done at all. Anyway, the pressure got to me yesterday of expectations and realistic capabilities and I began to fold.
I heard from S, in his ever to be playful way. He felt better yesterday, but not great. I asked something of him that my ego wanted, just to feel like I mattered in a certain way. I ended up in angry with him, because he doesn’t do on-demand things, ever, and I wanted, needed it.
Last night I had a dream, that I was at a table, maybe a luncheon, in a house where my sis lives in Florida. And all these wonderful spiritual teachers were there. We were talking and walking outside with each other, it was amazing. Lots of crystal jewelry, I remember especially one woman’s beautiful fluorite broach. Fluorite is one of the most healing of stones. And someone came and gave me a card, and it was from S, and all I remember it saying was that he loved me, in his own handwriting. Which he has never said to me, and which I suspect from time to time, but then he will say he doesn’t want to be in love. And when he backs off I am sure he doesn’t love me, and when he pulls me back, I think he must or why would he do this?
This morning, I did my Byron Katie thing on my thought about him.
1. Do I know it’s true? Yes.
2. Do I know absolutely that it’s true. No. I can never ever know for sure what goes on in his head. (or anyone’s for that matter.)
3. How do I feel when I think that thought? Bereft, lonely, sad, unloved, uncared for, used, abused, broken hearted.
4. And how would I feel without that thought? Happy, content, most likely still crazy about him.
So, all that angst over something that may or may not be true. I went to see my best friend’s daughter in West Side Story last night, S called me on the way there, and I was mean, I was still angry. Yet when I got out of the play, there was a text asking me to call him when I got home. So do I believe I don’t matter to him, when he is able to get through my angst and still want to talk to me? It seems like I should let him speak for himself, and stop imposing my belief, which is not coming from my best self, on him.
As it was, when I called him I woke him, and just told him to go back to sleep, we could talk today. Because it was late, he’s been so sick, and I was tired. It was nice to hear his voice.
I think that loving someone I see so sporadically is playing with me. I need to either shit or get off the pot with this relationship. Either we have one or not, I want to be done questioning where we stand with each other. If I’m gonna miss him so much, either let me miss him and get over it and move on, or let the longing be fulfilled by seeing him on a regular basis. For me there is no in between.
So, S, if you read this, I’m sorry for spiraling into the stratosphere yesterday. There may have been underlying reasons that were valid, but I didn’t need to go where I went.
It’s going to be a perfect beach weekend. I hope, maybe, dream, maybe that I’ll finally get to spend a perfect summer beach day with him at one of the beautiful places he took me in the winter. I suppose it will depend on a lot of things. In the end, my heart aches to be with him.
Now if I can just get through today at work, without a meltdown, I think I will be ok. The picture is from one of the beautiful beaches we went to in the winter. I will end with Ho’oponopono.
Please forgive me
I love you.
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