Posted in family, friendship, kids, Learning, Life, love, Musings, People, relationships

Fallout

Fallout: 2. A secondary and often lingering effect, result, or set of consequences.

THE-PAST (1)

 

I have been dealing, lately, with the next wave of fallout from my choice to end my relationship. It’s weird, because it’s been nearly a year now, and I often think that if I am not totally over it, I am pretty close. Then, something will happen- a song will come on the radio, my daughter will ask me an innocent question, and a wave of grief so startling will roll over me that it is nearly panic. It leaves me questioning my entire set of choices between now and then…which is, of course, ridiculous. Anyone with eyes can see I have been a million times happier since I finally put an end to all of the chaos and fighting, the drugs and the lies, the anger and upheaval.

I am proud of myself for trying so hard, out of real love, to make something difficult work. Sometimes I beat myself up for pouring so much into something that could never have worked, but I didn’t believe that while it was happening, and the truth is, I had to know that I did everything within my power before I walked away. I think before he and I were together, I really believed that if two people loved each other, that was all that really needed to be true for a relationship to work out. I had to learn that there is so much more to it than that- for two people to be happy and healthy together, they first need to be happy and healthy as individuals, and then they are charged with the very difficult task of somehow managing to maintain that, while figuring out how to build a life together. You can love the shit out of each other, and if one or both of you is a mess, or wanting a different version of the same thing, or can’t see eye to eye in certain critical ways, it just won’t work.

I am even more proud of myself for finally finding the strength to get out. It was one of the hardest things I ever did in my life, much harder than the familiar misery of staying together. I was used to hating who I was when I was with him. I was used to being angry, insecure, mean, erratic, volatile, and sad. But it was killing me. I don’t think that when he moved out the last time I really thought it would stick- how many times had we been down that road? But I kept holding out another day, then another and another, until finally I even started believing myself when I would say ” We are never getting back together.” (Credit: Taylor Swift, LOL)

I would not have it any other way, now. As I said in the beginning- I am so much happier now. I could not undo what has been done if I wanted to, anyway. What we were, for better or worse, is over. We couldn’t go back if we wanted to.

But Autumn is upon us- my first one alone in over seven years. I don’t know about you, but Autumn is the season for families, in my mind. Spring and Summer are fantastic times to be single, but the minute Autumn rolls around, I start looking around for my security blanket. In this case, I guess mine is a two hundred pound man. Who knew?

I woke up two days ago, thinking…maybe I am ready to start dating again. Maybe it is time. That night, I was at a meeting, watching the fire crackle in the hearth, and the candles flicker on the mantle, and I thought how nice it would be to go home and crawl in bed with someone…but not really someone. Him.  Yesterday, I was out with our daughter, and I picked up some food and headed to the beach. I pulled into the parking lot just as a song came on that reminded me of him, and some horrible times he put me through. I realized that the beach we were at just then was where he had been working a construction job when we first started dating, and I would bring him lunch, we would sit on the beach and flirt with each other.

We had no idea, then, that seven years down the road we would be this- more broken than we started out. A child between us that we both loved desperately. A mountain of bad choices  and broken promises trailing behind us. A bad taste in our mouths over each other, and two broken hearts. I sat in my car and cried facing forward so my daughter didn’t see me. And I realized that I wasn’t really ready to date, not yet. I am still in mourning for what I gave up, as hard as it was, and as sad as it was, it was still very significant to me, and it was a loss I felt, and still feel deeply.

I certainly will not go back. But I will honor my grief and myself until I am ready to move on.

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Posted in humor, Life, love, People, random, relationships, Uncategorized

Breaking Up: It Really IS Hard to do.

That song, old as it may be, knows of what it speaks. I know- you would think a woman rapidly approaching an age so advanced she no longer feels great about blurting it out (even though I still look GOOD, thank you) would already be aware of this, right? Well, as I may have mentioned here, or maybe in my REAL blog (just kidding, this one is real, too), I am a super late bloomer. I was too busy doing drugs in bathroom stalls all across the west coast to form many mature, enduring bonds. So this is pretty much the first time I have gone this far into something with another, fully invested, human being. And it has utterly failed. Which really sucks.

Argh! I am writing this to cheer myself up and be funny, and instead those last few sentences sent me running for another roll of toilet paper to sop up my face with. As you can tell, I am a little emotional. I guess that is normal, but what do I know? I know I could have probably been over it and on with my life if I had just pulled the plug way back when I first realized we weren’t going to make it. Shit, I could have been happily married after an average length engagement by now, if I would have done that. That’s okay, though. Some of the things I would have missed out on if I had were totally worth all the rest of this suckage.

Some of the things going through my head that I catch myself thinking are pretty understandable- things like: “What if this is actually the best you can do? What if this is really a great relationship and you are just a total fucking bitch and you are throwing it all away?” or “What if you just can’t be happy, period?” Luckily, though, I realize that these are trick questions posed to me by my own frightened heart. This is not the best I can do, it is not a great relationship, I AM a total fucking bitch, because I am miserable, and anything that makes you feel that way is okay to throw away. I know I am easily capable of happiness, because even in the midst of all this heartache, I have moments of it every day. The less weighted down I am by all of this turmoil, the easier it will be for me to laugh again.

Some other things I wonder about are, does it take this long for other people to split up? I mean, we have basically been in the process of parting, seriously, for the better part of the past year. Before that, even, I knew we were headed that way. I guess I just always thought that people had enough, broke up, divided up their stuff, and parted ways. Now that I am going through it, I realize it takes a long time to really throw the towel in. It has to hurt pretty bad, for pretty long, to finally admit you have lost. Even then, when you pretty much know that sticking around is probably going to destroy you, it is still hard and sad to say goodbye. I don’t know why I need to know if that is normal or not- all I need to know is that it is what is happening in my life, and I am dealing with it the best I can.

Some of the more amusing thoughts I have noted scampering through my twisted little mind are these:

“I guess this means I am going to have to start being fussy about how I look all the time, now.”

“What if he finds someone faster than me? And what if she is prettier than me? And younger? (etc., etc.)” Then I realize what I am thinking, and that I don’t want to even date anyone for a good, long time…and also, how much of a bummer it will be for the next girl, when she realizes what she is dealing with. Maybe she’ll get lucky, and be too dumb to see through the nonsense. Maybe, just maybe, he won’t fool around on her. Maybe I should just stay out of his imaginary future relationships, though.

My very favorite candid thought so far, though, has got to have been this: “What if the next guy I’m with has a smaller penis?” I seriously contemplated this, and came to the conclusion that…well, that would really suck. I don’t know what else I can say about that. Except, REALLY? THAT is what you are worrying about?

Well…it’s one of the things. But at least it was a funny thing. Anyway, I am doing the best I can, and sometimes I feel more like posting than other times. I don’t want to bring the whole blogosphere down with my sad little life, so lots of times, I write in my handy-dandy notebook (thanks, Blue’s Clues, for that) instead. But I am always writing.

When I’m not, you know… thinking about the next ( hopefully enormous), penis I might encounter. Have a fabulous day!

Posted in family, inner peace, kids, Life, love, People

Inevitable Sadness

I guess it was stupid of me to think that I could feel ONLY good about what is happening here, within the walls of this house. The fact of the matter is, a long and important relationship that I cherished and worked at and tried my very hardest to salvage is ending, and it would be weird as hell if it didn’t hurt  to let it go.

I thought Thanksgiving would be hard without him. I left on Thursday morning and drove, just me and the girls, to my late grandparents home up in Oakhurst. My family was all there- my mom and stepdad, my cousin Heidi whom I adore and look up to, and her husband Tom, who I also adore, her kids…my two uncles and various other folks. Thanksgiving was WONDERFUL. I didn’t have one moment where it felt weird or bad or lonely or anything. It was the first time I’d been home for the holiday in five years- all the time Devon and I had been together- and I can’t believe I missed it.

As a matter of fact, the entire time I was gone was like that- I spent the night with my sister in Fresno, and for the first time ever, we got to hang out, just her and I, with our kids, and do NOTHING. All of that pressure that comes with worrying that your significant other is okay, not bored, wanting to leave- it was gone, and it was wonderful. I am pretty sure that it doesn’t have to be that way, but in this relationship, it was always that way. if it wasn’t him wanting to leave my family, it was me wanting to leave his. Not that I don’t love his family, because I really, really do. I think it always had more to do with us not wanting to keep up the charade of happiness and harmony that made it hard…I don’t know.

To be honest, I sort of dreaded coming home to him and that familiar hostility more than anything. He hasn’t said much to me since the break up. I mostly have just left him alone, knowing there is nothing I can say that he wants to hear.

Yesterday, I left the baby with him and took the kids up to San Francisco for the day because I promised them (Aisley and her boyfriend) that I would. At the last second, and old friend of mine asked if I’d meet him for breakfast, and since it was on the way, I said yes. He ended up riding along with us for the day, and I had a fantastic time. I was so glad he came, since the kids didn’t want me tagging along with them, making gagging sounds every time they kissed (which is WAY more than necessary, in my opinion.) He just recently ended a ten year relationship, and is still trying to figure it all out- he’s dating a lot, or rather, he was, and now he’s sort of started seeing only one girl that he really likes, but you can tell he’s still a little wobbly- trying to get his land legs, as it were.

I spent a lot of time talking about my situation, which is how you could tell it wasn’t a date- we both talked pretty constantly about our big, significant, failed relationships. But we had a great time, and being with him, who paid for my breakfast and had an all-day conversation with me, full of actual WORDS…well, it gave me hope. And it reminded me of how much I like to laugh, and flirt (innocently), and be heard. I came home thinking I would be okay. Better than okay. Better than ever before, maybe.

Then I got a letter from Devon, via Facebook (?), late, late at night. I read it twice, and then I replied, and that’s when the tears started. Just writing about it is starting them up again. He told me that he is hurting, and I could tell that he is angry and resentful and scared. I think it is finally sinking in that I am not bluffing this time.

The idea that he is hurting and feeling afraid, and that I am the source of this, it’s pretty unbearable for me. I understand that it’s a lot more complicated than that, but in a nutshell, in it’s simplest form, I am hurting him. I HATE that. I’ve said it here before, that I still love him, so it makes sense that it hurts me terribly to cause him pain. So many times I’ve felt like I could see the little kid in him, right beneath his grown up face, and a part of me is fiercely protective of that, even now.

But the fact remains that I want out. The truth I can see, through all of the heartache, is that there is nothing left of our relationship to save. It’s gone. And I am just not going to pretend. The letter I wrote back to him is not what he was wanting from me, which is going to cause him more pain, and I am really, really sad and sorry about that. At the bottom of it all, I feel like I am really making the best decision, not only for me but for both of us- that he deserves to be happy just as much as I do, and we can’t be happy together. Hopefully, he will see this eventually, too.

I am only responsible for myself, though, really, and trying to be in charge of his happiness is part of the reason we wound up here. I think if I would have let things run their course naturally, we would have broken up the first year.

Ah, I don’t know where to go from there. I guess I will just end here by saying this- I will let the tears come when they need to, and I will be enormously loving and gentle with myself, knowing that continued joy is ahead. I will pray for him, myself, and our children, and practice turning it back over to God when I start wanting to fix it.

Have a great day.