How to get over the hump….?
Like lots of nights, tonight I went out to listen to music. Single guy, at the bar, lots of couples around. It’s hard to watch other couples be affectionate. It makes me think of my ex-fiancee, B, being affectionate with her new boyfriend – that kinda sucks – it’s life, she moved on… It makes me realize that perhaps in her mind, maybe we just weren’t that special…. I don’t know, it’s a little twisted in my mind – I think I was taking that forever thing really seriously. I don’t mean to imply that she didn’t – just that I’m the one stuck saying I already promised my forever to someone. I can’t imagine my arm around another woman, let alone breakfast or coffee in the morning. I get uncomfortable when women flirt with me. B was so special to me that right now, I couldn’t possibly share those types of tender moments with someone else. What I shared with her felt sacred. I don’t know what to do about it – fortunately, I don’t care too much other than the missing what I had. I don’t know how to move forward. It sometimes makes me feel like it was a mistake to go all in – how could I have gotten it so wrong? And if the outcome of failure, is feeling like there just isn’t anyone else….. It makes me think it was a mistake to believe that she was my person. I had never believed in soulmates – there’s just way too much pressure in that. Yet… I don’t think I could have done any differently. I believed she was my person (still do). I was never more certain of anything. I don’t know what to do with or about that.
Is it weird to think I might never feel that again? Is it weird to be ok with not wanting to feel that? Was it immature to think she was the one? I don’t wait for her because I expect it…. I’m not even sure I’m waiting for her…. I’m just waiting because I can’t seem to do anything else. I can’t be with someone else. It’s frustrating.
At the end, B told me that I broke her. Not being able to move on, feeling like I might never recover from this or really love again – that’s about as broken as you get. I don’t write this because I want pity. At some point I decided I could only love this one person… I’m not sure how to get out of that mindset.
Ironically, when B and I met, she wasn’t really looking and I was. Now I’m the one not looking, and she’s already found someone. Maybe in my not looking I’ll be surprised by someone. I hope that if I find it, I see it and recognize it.
I am going to be Miss Havisham. I need to be ok with that. I keep reminding myself…. I’m in Memphis because if I can’t have love, I will have music. I wish I could have both. Having her back seems like the only way for that to be possible. Silly silly silly – old school romantic.
I need to not write (or post) at 1:30 in the morning after I’ve been out listening to music and drinking. I was totally in self-wallow mode last night. I’m leaving the post (with slight edits) as a reminder that I go through those moments. I was feeling stuck and frustrated and very inarticulate. There was a couple next to me at the bar, she was really affectionate towards him, he was a little on the distant side. I watch these things play out a lot between people. I started to feel bad for myself. I started the post as a note to myself in a bar. It’s strange to crave intimacy and also know that I’m not capable of it right now. Any connection I make would just be me using the other person, or at best, us using each other. There are days when I say, if we’re both honest about that (acknowledge that we’re using each other) there’s no harm, right? For me, I don’t think it’s possible (or at least not possible without the help of alcohol)… I just don’t want to go there.
I do want to explore this topic. This immovable force. I’m not a fan of the word can’t, yet…. I’m still in a place where I can’t seem to move forward romantically. I have absolutely no interest. I got on dating sites to get in the practice of just being able to “see” other women. When I’m in a relationship, blinders go on – I don’t find anyone else attractive – I don’t even see them. I think for a brief while after my first post-divorce relationship, I had trouble finding other women attractive… but this is very very different. Many months later, even if I find someone attractive, I can’t imaging holding their hand or getting close to them. Maybe I’ll do some coffee shop reading on the subject.
But… the heart of the matter, the real battle is against the “pressure” to move on. I don’t sit at home worshiping at the alter of B. I don’t spend every waking minute thinking about her and us. I’m not trying to live in the past. Yet, I have this blog that is a dive in to how I think and how I feel, a dive in to the past. And so often, I hear the voices of other people telling me I just need to move on. If I say it’s hard, I feel like I’m being whiny. The pressure to move on feels like I’m being told that I’m doing it all wrong, or that there’s something wrong with me. I once posted an open letter to B on this blog – she replied to it. Called me obsessed. My ex-friend, Jen, would tell me that rumination is unhealthy. I feel pretty judged by those types of statements. My former therapist, Jocelyn, was the only one who seemed to have compassion on the subject. She’d say, that yes, I need to move on, but all in time. She’d remind me that I was all in (which is a good thing) and that the more you give of yourself, the deeper you feel, the longer it will take. She warned me that it might take years. She told me to be comfortable with the void, to try to live without hope or expectation of anything and, if I can, just focus on the living life part of it, a sort of be in the moment approach. Take a step, any step. If it hurts, acknowledge that it hurts and take another. Eventually the walking gets easier.
I put a lot of pressure on myself for not making “adequate progress.” I beat myself up over not grieving the “right way.” That’s when I need to remind myself that I’ve moved to a different city. I’ve started a new job. I’ve made a few new friends. I’ve taken up writing. I’ve been seeing a lot of live music. I’m looking at buying a house. I’m doing lots of things to start over. I’m creating lots of moments, taking lots of steps. I know how this plays out in my heart and mind – it’s a long and slow process for me. It begins by doing the things I used to love doing before B and later with B (cooking for myself, seeing bands, hiking) and lamenting that we’re not doing them together (I’d love to be buying the house with her). Eventually, it becomes less about not having her and shifts to wanting to share with someone. When that openness returns, when that desire comes back – then I’ll know I’m ready. I’ve written it on this blog a few times. I really liked who I was before B – I was a happy person. I liked who I was even more with B – I was an overly exuberant person. Because I mourn what I’ve lost doesn’t mean I dislike who I am. I have a good life. I also know she made me better, she made life better. She made me smile like nobody else had. It’s ok to miss that deeply. I know I’ve said this before – I wish I could have done for her, what she did for me. Loving her was the best feeling in the world.