Last night, thinking about my ex-fiancee’s late husband, I had said I was going to try to use this space for something thoughtful. I sat down a few times to try to write. Feeling like it’s not my place got the best of me and the words wouldn’t come. I suspect they will some day – today wasn’t that day. Instead I focused some of my thoughts on who this person was, the life they might have lead, and the impact they had – at least on the person I cared about.
Aside from my failed efforts to write, I spent a bit of time outside. Went for a quick run, and by quick I mean, I tried to run at a decent pace. I managed two miles at an 8 min/mile pace – which isn’t bad for someone my age and in the shape I’m in (pear, apple, shmoo, rhombus). Tonight I walked a few miles along the river. I caught another beautiful sunset.
It was nice to see people out (at appropriate social distances). Couples having picnics on blankets on the hills above the river. Lots of people walking dogs. These sunsets never get old.
Earlier in the day, my daughter texted me to say she got home safely… and then to say she passed her nursing exam. I’m really happy for her. It was an intensive program, and during it all, she had to deal with the drama in my life (breakup, selling the house, moving to TN) as well as some challenges in her own. Her confidant and counselor, Karen, fell ill and passed away a few months back – I know that was difficult for my daughter to handle. In a trying year, she’s been successful and has been able to keep it together. She’s gonna be more than ok and is going to be a great nurse.
As part of my morning reading, I read an article in the Atlantic on the boomerang exes coming out of the woodwork. Which makes complete sense. In some cases, people are lonely and reaching out because of that loneliness, but in others, they’re faced with their own mortality and also have a lot more time to think… and so they revisit, reconnect, make amends,etc.
This is a uniquely bad moment, too, in which to be cut off from interpersonal contact. In times of danger and fear, when people are confronted with their own mortality in a more acute way, they search for meaning more intensely, Seidman noted; this means that they think a lot more about their families, work, religious beliefs, and intimate relationships. That could lead some people to reach out to a past partner in hopes of reuniting, confessing their lingering feelings, clearing the air, setting the record straight, or apologizing. “If you’re reevaluating your life,” Seidman said, “that’s definitely a place I think a lot of people would go.”
These things have a way of bringing people together – that reevaluation and refocus on what matters can be powerful. I’m not surprised that I’ve heard from the woman who was my first significant post-divorce relationship. And while I don’t think she’s trying to spark anything, I completely understand the urge to find a level of comfort in difficult times. I typically cringe when I see the inspirational quotes on Facebook, they always seem a bit banal. And then there are days when, still banal, they seem to hit home or speak a truth. I came across this one the other day. I suppose it goes hand in hand with absence makes the heart grow fonder and you don’t know what you have until it’s gone. So here we are in the middle of a pandemic, lots of people are feeling isolated and alone, and not surprisingly, there are a lot of people reaching out. The comment a few weeks ago on my post And Dammit People Like Me spoke to this. I had written that by blogging, I’ve given my ex-fiancee the satisfaction of knowing someone out there cares deeply about her. The response was, “You’re not the only one. Tornado, virus—I always wonder about her and hope she’s ok—and I imagine there is someone there taking care of her.” The urge to reach out, the wondering, is only mitigated or countered by the disappointment in feeling it’s not reciprocated. She could always check on me.
For the past few years, I’ve tried to live my life, especially my romantic life, by one simple rule rule, follow and speak your heart. After the ups and downs of that first relationship, and then messing things up in the second real relationship, and a whole lot of other encounters in between, I started to see that people were overly concerned with how they appeared (weak or strong, cold or needy, etc.) and never seemed comfortable with true expression and vulnerability. I learned a lot of this in watching my friend, Jen – she always overthought things. I came across lots of people who got so caught up in their head, that they forgot to lead with and listen to what their heart was saying. “I can’t tell him I like him, it’s too soon…” For me, fighting against overthinking became a part of my dating profile – part of the lessons from dating:
1. Everyone is different, there are very few rules, go with the flow, trust your gut, don’t beat yourself up… more importantly, don’t beat anyone else up.
2. Been in love (amazing), had heart broken once or twice (slightly less amazing), broke other people’s hearts (also not so amazing).
3. Chemistry is real, timing can be a b*tch, deal breakers aren’t always deal breakers, flaws and vulnerability can be incredibly sexy.
4. People talk about who they are and what they’ve done…. don’t overlook their potential. Where they’ve come from is not necessarily where they want to go.
5. Be open, be trusting, be curious, be present, be patient, and take risks – be all the things you want someone else to be for you.
6. Be willing to get out of your own head. Don’t worry about appearing needy or distant or strong or weak…. be honest with yourself first, and the rest will follow. Authenticity seldom fails.
Call it this ongoing midlife crisis, but I had simply gotten to the point where I felt life was too short not to put it all out there – especially with the person you care most about. If you miss someone, tell them. If you’re crazy about them, tell them. If you’re upset with someone, tell them and work it out. It’s also why I tend to not block people, or delete them, or any of that stuff – they exist in this world, and who knows what life has in store for them or me. I leave doors open because… unless they’re abusive, I don’t see the point in slamming them shut. If you start to accept lots of different possibilities, you start to see there really isn’t a forward or backward, there just is. It’s why I’ve never felt bad about going back to someone – if the feelings are there, why deny them (assuming I’m single)?
Of course, I make exceptions. Counter to my natural inclinations, I have not reached out to my ex-fiancee, B, during this pandemic. While I deeply believe that you can never tell people too often that you care about them and think of them, I’m trying to respect the fact that she doesn’t want to hear that (at least not from me). I’ve been working on accepting that it’s no longer my place or my role to let her know I’m thinking of her – that’s what her family and friends and a current or future partner are for. It’s something I’ve been working on for a little while, feeling without acting.
And maybe that’s the piece I was meant to write today. Keeping someone in your thoughts and only in your thoughts – that little glass jar person. As I tried to think of what I would say to my ex-fiancee’s late husband, or what a poem might look like, I contemplated the things that might have gone unsaid between them. Those regrets we all live with after the fact. I suppose this is why I believe in going all in – why I try not to hold anything back. The bus could hit you tomorrow. It’s part of taking the risk, loving fearlessly, and constantly refining the truths we can tell each other. Which reminds me of a blog post I revisit once in a while: I Believe in Loving Like You Give a Shit – worth reading, as well as this sweet story on NPR about an elderly couple (he’s 107 and she’s 100). They’re engaged and riding out the pandemic.
You know, the reason why I don’t want to die is because I like being around you. I like being in this relationship, and I really don’t want it to stop.
It also reminds me of what Stephen Dunn wrote: “I’ll say I love you,/ which will lead, of course,/ to disappointment/ but those words unsaid/ poison every next moment.”