Tag Archives: love

Wait, What?!

I was not at all expecting today to go as it has.  Not one bit of it.  I wish I could make this stuff up (I’m just not that good)…

I’ve written a few times about this guy I’ve been seeing on and off for quite a while.  We met on OkCupid about six years ago and dated for maybe six months or so initially.  Things got really intense really fast (we have always had a strong connection, emotionally and physically), then I got some weird medical news that sent me reeling, and I took out my fears on him and told him that I couldn’t see him anymore.   I regretted it and I regretted how I treated him, because I liked him a whole lot.

Fast forward to a couple of years ago and I ran across his profile again.  I took a chance, reached out, and we quickly fell back into our old feelings.  We talked almost daily after that.

The first year after we started talking again it was a struggle to see him, a struggle to meet up.  I felt like a lot of that was me, though.  I was still processing my breakdown, still feeling pretty new in recovery from my childhood trauma, and had a hard time being social at all.  He expressed an understanding that not many in my life have and he was always there when I needed someone to talk to.  There was a point about a year ago that I wasn’t sure if I could continue on with the relationship because we were seeing each other so little, but we had a serious talk about it and he promised me that we would see more of each other.  He lived up to his word and in this last year we started hanging out more and more.

Our chemistry continued to be electric, just like it was when we started dating six years ago.  We talked about anything and everything under the sun and he was patient and kind and gentle about all of it.  I told him about my break down and he didn’t judge me.  I told him about my childhood and my ongoing tumultuous parental relationships and he didn’t judge me.  I told him about my (sometimes day-to-day) struggles with trust and anxiety and depression and he didn’t judge me.  He has been my rock as I’ve spread my entrepreneurial wings and especially supportive since I started this weight loss surgery journey last year.  He stayed at my house to help me when no one else would/could the week after surgery, he has patiently and gently walked me through my many minor meltdowns figuring out how to eat, and he has encouraged and motivated me as I recently started getting my exercise on too.  Honestly, I don’t know if I could have made it to this point without his support.

It’s no wonder that I fell in love.  How could I not, right?  It was sometimes a very confusing love, but it was love.  It was a love that was growing, and quickly, the more we got to see each other.  I’m not sure that our relationship would always have been romantic and physical as it has been so far, but he and I both talked all the time (yesterday, included) about how we felt like we had a lifelong connection.  It was a love that I hoped, no matter what would happen, we could continue to grow in.  At least until today.

I woke up today full of hope about a busy week, but not long after I opened my eyes and started to prepare for my day, I got a text from his girlfriend.  The girlfriend that he’s been with for the last two years.  The girlfriend he lives with.  Wait, what?!  My hopes and dreams about this relationship came crashing down around me in an instant.

So many thoughts about this man have passed through my brain over the last six years, but never once did I imagine that this kind of lie would be the end of us.  I don’t know that I could have, he had me so snowed.  Hindsight being what it is, there are plenty of things that seem crystal clear now of course, but at the time I had no inkling of what was to come; none whatsoever. I’ve been walking around feeling like I got punched in the gut all day.

I wish I could say that this is the first time that a man chose me as his other woman without letting me in on the secret, but it’s not (normally I find out much sooner, though).  I wish I could say that I felt like it was all their fault, but I don’t.  I mean, I’m the only common element. I can’t help but feel that there’s something inherently wrong with me or, at the very least, my ability to choose a good partner.  I have read plenty of articles about those who have suffered childhood trauma have poor relationship skills in adulthood, after all.  It seems that I’m no exception to the rule.

I am proud of how I handled my emotions today.  Though incredibly difficult, I let myself feel them (can’t eat them away anymore).  I cried a messy cry.  I reached out to all my girlfriends to tell them how much of an asshole he is.  I went on a walk, blasted the Cranberries and moved my body with real purpose (I almost didn’t, because walking reminded me of him too).  I did some work, then had a break.  I did more work and now I’m here.  I’m sad.  Beyond sad.  But I am moving forward.  Looking backwards is not an option for me.

My real fear is being alone forever, being rejected yet again (and again and again).  I want companionship, I want love, I want it all (except maybe kids).  I just don’t know how to get it and keep it.

Thank goodness for therapy this week.

Affection Affective

Interesting that one person’s touch and affection can be incredibly soothing, comforting, and make you feel safe while another’s is repulsive, makes your skin crawl, and your stomach turn.

Saw my parents tonight and both tried their hand at affection.  I never shy away from a hug or cuddle from my dad.  My mom, on the other hand, I try to avoid except for a pleasant hug before I leave.

If you’ve dug into my blog at all, you know exactly why I feel the way I do about my mom.  So when she tried to rub my neck and I stiffened up, it’d make sense to you. Thankfully, she quickly stopped.  When my dad was stroking my hair, though, he put me at ease and made me want to fall asleep.  I could have stayed that way for hours.

Honestly, I think my mom was jealous because I was responding favorably to my dad; she wanted to get in on it.  Not only do I find her repugnant as a human being, it’s too little too late, and it feels fake as hell. 

You don’t get to abuse me unmercifully, not apologize or own up to your bullshit,  continue to insult and shame me to this day, and then get my love returned. That’s not how this works anymore.  I spent most of my life being forced to love you without condition, forced to lift you up, forced to be your emotional lover, to the point that there was nothing left of me.  Not anymore. I won’t ever let you into my inner circle again.  Never.  I wish it weren’t so, but it’s your own damn fault, not mine. 

So, yeah.

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I feel like I should be it, but I’m not.
I feel like it surrounds me, but my walls are up and I still can’t break through to let it in.

Intellectual capability and emotional intelligence are on vastly different ends of the spectrum.  I know what it is supposed to look like, can spout off a hundred synonyms for it, but being it? Not a clue.

Just when I think I have the hang of it. As I begin to believe it isn’t a myth made in the minds of idyllic youth,
I’m back down again. Withdraw, isolate, give in to the depression as it rolls in like fog in the night.

Those who have it live wholeheartedly,  says Brené Brown (aka #VulnerabilityTED). To live wholeheartedly is to truly believe you are loved and are worthy of love.
I am neither.  I am neither. I am neither.
Except I am loved; this I know.  I still don’t have it.

Maybe I’m scared of it.  Maybe I need to face the fact that I don’t feel worthy of it.  Then I can figure out how to move forward.  I’ve been trying to dismiss the idea every time it comes up as a thought.  Bad thoughts *swat* dead like a fly. I’ve gotten pretty good at turning them off when I notice them. Or I rationalize,  logic, etc. etc. my way around the thought until it’s my bitch and I can stop thinking about it for a while.

But that I’m not worthy of it? I mean,  that kind of makes sense.  As for how that makes me feel? Not a clue.

Do Dads?

#PaperRose. It says, “Be Kind and Gentle.”

Do Dads take their daughters to dances?

Or on dates for their birthdays?

The one time my dad took me on a date, I thought I would die from the awkwardness.

I most loved listening to music with my dad, watching him shave, hearing him pick up the saxophone once every few years, when he’d clean his gun or fix something. 

I secretly appreciated when he pulled me over in his police car on the way to school to tell me my car needed an alignment.

I also appreciated how he would park his police car at the church across the street after school let out. Not always,  but enough for me to know he was right around the corner if I needed him.

I love that as I’ve grown, he walks me out to my car to say goodbye.  Every single time.

He has made plenty of his own mistakes,  for sure. Many of which I’m still angry and hurt by.  However, he kept his promise when he said he’d never hit me again.  And he has spent quite a lot of my life making up for it in the best ways he knows how.

Holding On So I’m Not Alone

And just like that, he does something that makes me give up.

Work and life have been crazy. Trying to get out and network more, lots of big firsts recently, bigger cases, new friends, therapy, writing, painting, back at church for the first time in, well really too long, just lots of things going on. My time is my livelihood. So when I set a date for a date night, I do my best to keep my schedule clear for it. I told people no, because I wanted to see him.

He forgot about me. Flaked on our date. I haven’t seen him in about 6 weeks again. I can’t keep doing this. I have been trying everything I can. He doesn’t value my time and refuses spontaneous dates pretty much 99.9% of the time. I’m pretty sure I’m worth more.

I feel in some ways he’s my last hope, though.

My other favorite is leaving after he gets out of the Air Force soon. He really makes me feel safe. It’s mostly physical, but there is genuine care for each other there. Im going to miss this one like crazy when he’s gone.

He’s so comfortable to be with. We have tried lots of fun things I’ll probably never try with anyone else. Things that require trust and patience and the right amount of tender aggression and release.

He swears we won’t stop texting when he’s gone. I actually believe that. He likes to travel, so I’m sure he’ll be back occasionally and I know we’ll be unable to resist each other.

Maybe I’m just not meant for one guy in the end. I certainly can’t seem to find everything I need (and want) in just one.

My Brother

I don’t talk about my brother much. Other than how he was my hero when I had my breakdown. And how I hate that my mom kept us apart. 

Got to see him on this Super Bowl Sunday. He’s struggling.  I’m so happy that we can talk freely about the things we can talk about, though.  He’s really the only one in my life that gets everything.   Who knows how things were.

Our relationship will forever be complicated by our childhood,  unfortunately.  I love him.  I feel bad for him.  I still can’t relate to him most of the time.

Back to all the feels watching the PSA Super Bowl ads. Got the feels!

Love Letter

Easter Sunday, 4/20/14

Dearest M,

While you’ll never read this, I think it’s important for me to write.  I know we’ve had a bit of a bumpy road.  But that’s just how my life is.  It’s bumpy.  It’s lumpy.  Always an adventure.  What I mean to say is that even though it has been bumpy, I’m glad it has been bumpy lately with you.

I know I’m a bit fragile, a bit broken and bruised, and, in turn seem like I need more from you than you can give, but don’t you realize that you are enough?  Just you, and knowing you’re there for me.  That I can talk to you about whatever, knowing that you actually give a shit about me, that’s enough.

It’s been a very rare occurrence that I’ve felt safe, felt like myself, felt happy with someone.  And I feel those things with you.  You also drive me insanely crazy, frustrate me, and turn me on like no other.  If this isn’t love, then I don’t know what is.

While I might not have the best role models in the love department, I know what it means.  I know how scary it is.  I know how amazing it can be when it comes around.  And now that I’ve found something like it, I’m going to seize it.

So while you work your way up in your career, I will continue to love you.  I’ll prove to you that I’m not going anywhere.  I’ll prove that this can work.

You make me feel beautiful, sexy, like I’m something to someone in this world.  No matter where we end up, that means something to me now.

I love you, babe.