First love, True love, Forever love

I seem to be reading a lot of blogs lately and finding inspiration in them.  I’ve read several posts about Forever Loves.  At 43, I don’t believe I’ve met my forever love.  In fact, I’m pretty sure I never will. 

Sure I’ve been married. Twice. I knew neither of them would be forever.  I’ve been honest about the reasons I married them.  Neither was because I was head over heals I can’t live without him want to spend the rest of my life with him in love.  Oh, I did love them, as best I could as the person I was then with what I understood about love.  All of which was painfully inadequate. 

But they were not total failures.  I have three amazingly brilliant, funny, good looking, outgoing, wonderful kids. (yes, I’m wearing mommy goggles) I have a good relationship with my 2nd ex husband, and my 1st ex husband could fall of the face of the Earth and I wouldn’t hire the search party to find him.  Oh, there would be a party, just not the searching kind.

Then there was Brian. I can honestly say, from the beginning, I thought “This is it. This is forever love.”  The stubborn hopeless romantic still wonders what if.  (look, that’s honest, but it doesn’t mean it will happen, but you know, when you believe that this is it it’s hard to let go of that, no matter what.) After 5 years, and countless break ups, it’s probably a safe bet that he isn’t my forever love. 

But he was as close as I have ever gotten.  He’s probably as close as I’ll ever get. 

My first love? I was 12. In 7th grade.  His mom made him break up with me in 8th grade because she said he was getting too serious.  At the time I thought she was cruel and I cried for a week, my poor 12 year old heart was shattered for the first time.  I thought I would probably die.  Turns out, she knew him pretty well.. he tends to get a bit obsessive.

The thing is, I hear people talk of true love, forever love, lasting love, a certain security in knowing that while their partner could leave on any given day, they know that they know that they know that they won’t.  And that is something I’ve never had.  I’m willing to accept that I never will.  Does it tug at my heart? Sure it does. Who doesn’t want to find someone who loves them, accepts them, wants to be with them day in and day out and not just on good hair days?

I believe in true love, forever love, lasting love, committed love.  I just believe it exits for other people.  At 43, I’ve missed the boat.  I chose to give my heart to men who wouldn’t protect it, who would end up breaking it, sometimes over and over again.  I’m done giving my heart away.  It’s too beat up, banged up and bruised, used and abused, I’d be hard pressed to find anyone willing to put in the work to heal it.  I’d be even harder pressed to find someone I’d be willing to let try. 

All I want, isn't even close to all that I deserve, but it's a start

I am learning to set boundaries.

I am learning to say “HEY! This is what I want, this is what’s important to me.  This is what I need.  And if you can’t deal with it, if that’s not on your radar, I don’t have time for you.”

I am learning that I don’t have to settle in order to keep someone in my life.  If they can’t meet me half way at the very least, I can’t meet them at all.

I am finding my voice.

And I’m learning I don’t care if they leave my life, they weren’t good for me in the first place.

And that?

Is pretty fucking awesome.

So yesterday, I unfriended Mr I-don’t-have-time-for-you.   I don’t expect a whole lot.  A text message in the morning, one at night, maybe one in the middle of the day.  Text messages at the very least.  They take less than a minute to send.  Clearly he didn’t think about it or have the time to think about it and send a single text message.  And if he’s that busy, there’s no room or time for me in his life.

The phone call came last night that up until then he’d been too busy to make.  I was just too busy to answer.  I just don’t care.  He could call me ‘Sexy” and “Babe” and all those nice little names that would suck me back in.  I just don’t have it in me.  This was never going to go anywhere… so why drag it out.  He was there the day I spent 8 hours in the hospital.  The feelings that were stirred up that day I am convinced weren’t real, they were just a manifestation of  the mania I was in, the mania that had landed me in the hospital in the first place.

I went to my first one-on-one therapy session this week.  One the one month anniversary of my hospital visit.  I have taken steps to get healthy, there is a long way to go.  But I am finding my voice.  I know what I want, I know what I need.  I won’t allow anyone to take advantage of me.  I won’t give more than they do.  If they don’t make an effort, I won’t stick around.  I don’t ask for the moon.

And maybe a few in between.

Is that really asking too damn much???

The Greatest Thing You'll Ever Learn…

What does love look like?  What is love?  Will I ever find it?  Will it ever stay?

All valid questions.

Love is a choice we make each and every day.  It isn’t something that just happens, not some place that we fall, it’s a choice.

For some, it’s an easy choice to make each and every day.  For others, it’s a struggle, one they choose not to make.

I am looking for love.

There… I said it.  I’m looking for love.  But before I can find it I have to define it, at least for me.  What does love look like, what do I want it to be?

I read Britt’s post today about/for Jared and my heart ached with an emptiness from a lack of deep, true, giving, unselfish love.  I want to be able to love someone that much, and be loved that deeply, that truly, that unselfishly in return.

Loving me isn’t easy.  My bipolar makes it a real challenge.  Even when it’s under control and medicated, I’ve learned medication isn’t always the answer and doesn’t always work.  My medication and treatments have to be switched and changed and tweaked a lot.  That is a challenge, and it takes it toll on me, and those around me.  It’s not something I chose, it’s not something I can help.  Loving me is a challenge.

And so far?

Nobody is up for it. At least not long term….

And I wonder if being bipolar, at least for me, means being alone for the rest of my life.  This isn’t the life I wanted.  This disease isn’t what I signed up for.  Even when it’s controlled, it’s still… a guessing game at best…

The greatest thing you’ll ever learn, is just to love and to be loved in return. Letting someone love you is hard.  That means you have to allow them to see your weaknesses and your flaws and trust that they can accept those things as well as your sparkling eyes and witty personality.

They say it’s out there.. you just have to go and find it.  I wonder sometimes if I ever will.

It's just a ring. Except to me? It was everything.

I had to go by Brian’s house this past week for a couple of reasons.  It was only the 2nd time I have been there since we broke up in December.  While I was there, I gathered up some of my things that were still at his house.   Mainly clothes, a battery charger for my Nikon.

And my Jessica Simpson shoe box.

In that shoe box?  All the cards, all the jewelry boxes, the wrapping paper and bows from all the gift Brian had given me over the past couple of years.  Yes I am a pack rat.  Or I’m sentimental.  Or frankly just a dork.

Also in that box?

The diamond ring, the jewelry box it come in and the gift bag that I gave him for Christmas.  The day he broke up with me?  I told him I wanted that ring back because frankly it meant everything to me, and he didn’t deserve to have it.  At the time I wanted to hurt him as much, if not more, than he was hurting me.  I’m not sure I did.  I’m not sure it bothered him at all.

Since then?  I have offered many times to let him keep it, and he never wavered.  He never changed his mind. He consistently said “I told you I would give it back.”

And he did.

Now, I have the ring.  And the jewelry box, and the gift bag.  I have every piece of jewelry he ever bought me (minus the ring that is kept safely at the bottom of the lake.) I have the boxes the jewelry came in.  I have the cards he bought me for my birthday, for Valentine’s Day, for just because he loved me.

But I have that ring.

And what am I going to do with it?  I mean, really?  It’s just a ring.  He didn’t wear it but an hour.  It’s just a ring.  I have placed too much meaning and value on a ring that was too little too late and couldn’t save what was already gone.  I have toyed with the idea of taking it back to the jewelry store where I bought it and asking if I could exchange it for something for me.  And yet… that stupid ring? means something to me.

There’s my problem.  I place too much sentimental value on THINGS.  Jewelry boxes.  Cards.  Tickets to movies, races, concerts.  I have CD’s of our Yahoo conversations that we had years ago.  I have every email we ever sent each other.  I have pictures of him, of my girls, of his kids from our first weekend together.  The pictures? They suck.  I was a horrible photographer then.  But I have them.

Because I cling to shit.

Because it meant something to me.

An email.  Or a Yahoo IM.. meant something.

And now this ring?

Shouldn’t mean anything at all.

And yet?

It does.

I tried to wear it one day.  Just because hello? it’s a gorgeous diamond ring.  The problem with wearing it?  To me, it’s his ring that he didn’t want.  And by not wanting it, he didn’t want me.  (NOTE!!!  That sentence right there? ALL 100% me, my feelings, my thoughts)

I took it off.

I put it away.

I don’t know what to do with it.

It’s just a ring.

And yet?

To me, it was everything.

 

 

How I am celebrating February 14th

Today is the day.  The one day I was determined to stay the hell off the internet because frankly, I didn’t want to see all the Tweets, posts, and Facebook status about how wonderful today is.  The problem?  I have reviews and guest posts popping up all over the place so I HAVE to be online pimping myself out.  What better way to celebrate Valentine’s Day than to announce to the entire internet “I can’t keep a boyfriend, I don’t have a date, but I can write a review about K-Y Personal Lubricant.  I mean who has more experience than me????”

Since I am forced to be online today, I can at least write about how I am celebrating Valentine’s day.  Which is to say?  I’m not.

The Law of Physics states that for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.  The Principal of The Charmed Ones, says that for all the good in the world, there is an equal amount of Evil.  The theory of meeting Prince Charming says you have to kiss a lot of toads.  Ok, not quite the same, but you get my drift.

Mademoiselle Hautemess has come up with a great Holiday for all of us who have been unceremoniously dumped on our ass with a 7 word text the day after Christmas. No I’m not bitter are a bit jaded by the whole idea of love, to celebrate that offsets the hearts and rainbows and unicorns and love and kisses and moopy schmoopy bullshit that all you love invested people are trying to spread around the place.

Her Holiday?

Suck IT!

With this holiday you round up all your friends who are just as jaded, or who like to drink, and have them bring all their emails, cards, love letters, shirts, symbolic trinkets of past loves, people/places/memories/traditions from love gone wrong and offer it all up as a sacrifice by throwing it into a fire.  Sort of like Monica, Phoebe, and Rachel celebrated Valentine’s Day in Season One. Then you stand around singing Kum-Bye-Ya.  Or Leave! Get Out! by JoJo.  Whatever works for you.

So, after reading about this awesome celebration I gathered up all photos, printed all emails, gathered all cards, notes, tickets, memories, hopes, dreams and plans for the future and set out to the field behind my house.

Yeah, I feel much better now.  Happy Suck It! to all my single/jaded/drunk friends.  Happy Valentine’s Day to the rest of you.

Questions of my heart

It’s very hard, when you put so much of your relationship on-line, when it all goes bad, to deal with the break up in the public eye.

I know that I don’t have to put anything on line about the break up.  Except that right after he broke up with me (via text, no less) he changed his relationship status on FB, therefore forcing my hand, and I had to acknowledge it.

And because I love(d) him, I asked that the bashing of him stop.  He (along with his son, our friends, his family) would see all that you wrote to me on my FB wall, in the comments.  And yes, I understand and appreciate your sentiments; I knew it would be better for everyone involved, in real life at least, if the bashing of him didn’t happen in public.

Keeping true to that has, at times, been difficult.

There have been days that I have sat down to write a scathing blog post reciting chapter and verse everything he did that pissed me off.  Maybe not at the time, but now, looking back pissed me off.  Just because being pissed off is much easier.  All those feelings, all that passion I felt for him, doesn’t just go away, doesn’t just turn itself off.  So, instead of channeling that passion into love, it’s easier, safer, and less painful to channel it into anger.

But it’s not fair to him.

Or his son.

Or our friends.

Or his family.

They did nothing wrong, and they don’t deserve to be caught in the cross fire, and don’t need to see this battle waged on the pages of the internet.

Brian wouldn’t wage it online anyway.

He would call me, or text me, or just turn his back and turn off my phone, and go quietly away in the middle of the night.

It’s hard to find other things to write about when your heart wants to pour itself out all over the place all the time.  It’s hard to sit down and write about something, anything else, besides the break up.

There are more than a few people I know, based on our history, think that this is just a phase for him.  That in a few weeks, he’ll miss me, he’ll come around, he’ll want to reconcile.

I’m not so sure.  Some days, I would agree with them. Other days? Not on your life.

Today?

One of those days without hope.

No, that’s not true.  Every day is full of hope.  Just today, there is no hope of any sort of reconciliation.

I’m ok with that.

And see, that’s where I am.

Taking this time (however long, or short) away from him, to figure out where I am, where I want to be, how to get there.

And most importantly, what being “there” (where ever there is) looks and feels like.

Do I want him along for the journey?

Do I want to take him on that journey with me?

Do I dig down deep inside me, in a place I have never found, but I’m sure is there, and find the strength and courage to say “I love you, more than you know, but it’s time we stop hurting each other.”

Or is that taking the easy way out?  Walking away without talking about our problems and trying to find a solution?

Or is this the solution?

That sucking sound you hear is just the end of my holidays going down the drain.

The holiday season is over.  Thank you very much Will Robinson. (I don’t know where the fuck that came from.  Anyone? Am I insane? Shut up.)  With the exception of New Year’s Eve, but I never celebrate that.  This year? Will be no exception. The past two weeks have not been easy or fun and it all came to a head last night. (Last night being tonight actually as I write this, but last night when I post it tomorrow. And tomorrow being Monday.  Caught up? Yes? Good.)

It’s Christmas time again, and I should have seen it coming. It happens every year.  It’s the curse of Santa Claus.  Or Christmas trees.  Or poinsettias.  Or maybe mistletoe.  No, it’s not the mistletoe, there’s never any of that around.  Maybe it’s the curse of wrapping paper?  Who knows?  Who cares?

What am I talking about?

Brian.

And me.

And us.

Or the fact that, well, it’s December, and it’s Christmas, and for those of you playing along at home know, that means, he dumped me.

Again.

It happens like clockwork, right around Christmas/New Years.  I should just break up with him on Black Friday, and call him again on Super Bowl Sunday.  Save a whole lot of money on gifts, and parties, and hopes, and wishes, and expectations.

And broken hearts.

I saw it coming.  For weeks now.  It really isn’t important.  When he finally maned up tonight and said “I’m just done” it wasn’t a surprise. Of course, my first thought (ok, maybe not my FIRST thought, but one of the ones early on) was I have so many readers on my blog and friends on Facebook, I can totally bash him all over the place and exact my revenge on-line.

And then?

I didn’t.

Because I had a conversation with his mother, after I talked to him, and she told me “I love you, and I love your girls.” and I know that she doesn’t throw that word around lightly.  And maybe there’s a little bit of respect in there too.  Either way, the relationship we have now has not come easy and it is far too precious to me to throw away.  Bashing him on-line would only destroy the love/respect his mother has for me and the girls.

So, I am taking the high road.

Ok, I’m staying out of the mud.

It took him all of 10 minutes to change his status on Facebook to single, and to change what he’s looking for to “women”.  The bed is barely cold from where I spent all day with him, and he’s already on the prowl. And maybe he did that because he knew I would look, and he just feels this need to hurt me.

Score one for him.

I aired some dirty laundry on Facebook a few weeks ago.  The comments got out of hand, and I knew it at the time.  And I should have stopped it, to prevent a fight. And yet, I didn’t.  Because I wanted him to hear me.  I wanted him to know what I had been trying to say to him.

But he didn’t hear me.

He hasn’t listened.

And that’s the most mud I’m going to sling in this whole big mess.

I can’t wrap my head around it right now.

In the midst of the problems we’ve been going through these past few months I have found friends I didn’t know I had.  I have girlfriends. The girls I work with were awesome and amazing at the Christmas party.  They offered up their sofa in the sitting area of their hotel suite so I could get my drink on and not have to drive home.  My girl AD never fails to remind me to pick up my awesomeness, brush it off, and let it shine all over the place.  My girl LD is the funniest, craziest, sweetest, touch-my-heart-make-me-love-her girlfriend ever.  She never lets me forget how amazing she thinks I am for being a single mom and raising my girls by myself.  My girl WW is always there to say “Fuck it let’s get a drink.”  Although we seldom do, sometimes just the thought is enough.  My girl JB, is always there to remind me how strong I really am. She’s always there with the rear view mirror telling me “Look how far you’ve come. Now just imagine how far you’ll go.”  My girl MM rocks my world, and she made me cry when she told me “Come spend the holidays with us.  We love you and we want you around.”  And my girl SK, well, how can you argue when she offers to buy you a drink or form the lynch mob?  Answer? Don’t bother arguing.

Even tonight, when I went and changed my relationship status on Facebook, (after all I look pretty stupid when my page says I’m in a relationship with Brian and his says Single.  Makes me look like a stalker or a nutjob who’s in an imaginary relationship with someone who doesn’t even know it.) people commented on it.  People I didn’t expect would see it. People who’s friendship I am grateful for.

That sucking noise you hear?  That’s the end of 2010.  That bright shining light on the horizon?

That would be my awesomeness.