Cramped space, crammed words

I ran to my room and grabbed my journal. I had to write down my feelings and thoughts regarding Mike again. He had called to say goodbye, that he couldn't do it any more. I wanted to record my pain, yet again. And I flipped through the pages, pen in hand ready to write, when I got all the way to the end of the journal and I had less than 1/4 page available for ALL my thoughts! I sat there shocked because how could I possibly put everything I was feeling down in such a small space? I didn't have another journal available and I really didn't want to continue this story into a new, fresh one. So I thought and thought and finally wrote: "he called, he can't do it anymore. He said goodbye" There was no room left for me to write my endless speculations about whether he will come back to me for the fourth time. There was no room left for me to moan and complain about my "situation." The journal was done. It had run out of pages. No more am I to write about this, it seemed. This journal has patiently recorded and held for me the last 8 years of heartaches, betrayals, hurts, longings, tears, frustrations and epiphanies. It is now time for a new journal and a new journey to start for me. If Mike comes back again, it can only be as a single, divorced man because there is no room for the old re-hashed story of loving me and leaving me in my new journal and my new life.

If feels good to close the old one, lock it up and put it away. It feels good to move past all those hurts and heartaches that continually wove itself through the journal's pages. It feels good to look at a fresh blank page. I am not naive; I know there will be some hurts and more as I continue on my journey but the weight of the last 8 years has been lifted with the last entry on the page: "Thank you for being in my life. I love you and I will miss you. I wish you peace."

Tuesdays with Mike

Tuesdays seem to be the day you make decisions. What happens to prompt you to make them on Tuesdays? You told me in June (on a Tuesday) that you wanted to give her one more chance. So we cooled off and you went incommunicado for months. However, you called my voicemail to hear my voice and drove by my house to check on me. Then you contacted me again in September and said you couldn't live with the instability in your life anymore. So you proceeded with your divorce. Then in October you cancelled it and saw me on a Tuesday to tell me why. You said you were confused and you felt you needed to give her one more chance. I asked how many "one more chances" did she get? So we say goodbye. I am hurt. I am angry. But I believe in my heart you will be back. And you do, you come back one week later. I am cautious but happy to see you, talk to you, hear your voice and touch you. Everything feels right as if it is supposed to be this way - you and me together. I was happy to take baby steps with you if that meant we would be together. You changed your work location to be closer to me. She continued to drink. You continued to be faced with upheaval in your life. I tried to be constant. I tried to bring you joy and smiles. It seemed like it was working. Then Tuesday, one week ago, you called and said you can't do this anymore. That you have to figure out your life. That you want to be open and honest in your relationships and that you love her and have feelings for me and you just can't do it anymore. That you don't want to hurt me anymore. So you said goodbye to me. I was not surprised. I was somewhat relieved because I kept waiting for the day when you would say goodbye again and disappear again. I was sad because I do love you and us together. I hope that when your marriage is over, you try to reach out to me. That you try to see where I am. You said to me that if we are meant to be together, it will happen. I would like to believe that too, but as long as you continue to give her one more chance, you prevent what was "meant to be".

I shrug my shoulders and sigh. I know you are thinking about me and that you will think about me everyday as I you. But I will not contact you anymore. I am moving on and if we are "meant to be", I hope the universe makes it happen in this lifetime and not the next. And preferably not on a Tuesday.

October is the cruellest month

T.S. Eliot says that April is the cruellest month but for me it would have to be October. April is the month that celebrates the birth of two of my children. Their joyfulness, laughter, compassion and kindness makes the transition from winter to spring the least bit cruel.

October seems to hurt me every year. October is cruel because my relationships seem to end then. My ex filed for divorce in October. The last time I spoke to my grandmother before she died was October 30, 2008. Last year, the man I was seeing ended our relationship in October saying he just wanted to be friends. And this breakup was after he had broken up with me earlier, said he wanted to give it another go and then BAM! over. And then today, the current man (about whom I'm not ready to write any blog posts) ends our relationship. And this too after he wanted to give it another go.

Two things I've learned: 1) Never ever 'give it another go' with a man. One break up is enough in any relationship. And 2) Skip October. Seems like it is just too cruel for me and my relationships.

Solo steps

"Yes, please dance with me, " I said to him. My heart was aching but if he held me close, maybe, for a few minutes the crying would cease.

He moved me slowly, tenderly around the floor. I closed my eyes and inhaled his scent. I floated, and with every step, I longed for my love to be the one holding me. But he would not put his arms around me. He would not come to embrace me. I am alone. My dance is a dance of longing - longing to be complete again. And I get to pretend for four minutes at a time. When the one I want to dance with for four million minutes isn't coming. He's not. Ever. I know that. I will arrive alone and leave alone. My soul crying with every fleeting step.

Doing my part

William: Mom, thanks so much for my birth.

Me: You mean for giving birth to you?

William: Yeah. And thanks for having sex with my dad cause I really wanted to be here.

Me: (Choking back laughter) Okay William - glad I could do my part.

Perfect on Paper

Like everyone who is not in love, he thought one chose the person to be loved after endless deliberations and on the basis of particular qualities or advantages.
-Marcel Proust


He called me after he had returned from his trip. "Hey sexy!" he said. I smiled and replied, "Glad to see you finally got my name right." He had had a good trip home. Saw some friends. Picked up more of his belongings that he had left there. Said he had missed me too. And then said we needed to talk.

"Okay" I replied hesitatingly. This did not sound good. He continued on relaying a story about a woman whom he had been seeing back home, whom he had broken up with before moving to my town and whom he saw again when he went home. I was confused as to where he was going with all this. I knew he and I were at the beginnings in our relationship, so I had no expectations of exclusivity.

He apologized to me for not telling me about this woman earlier but that when he met me he didn't think she was going to be in his life again. However on his trip home, she told him she missed him and wanted to try again. So he had agreed to let her move in with him in this new town and he felt he needed to give it an honest shot. So that no matter how much it pained him to let me go, he felt he needed to focus on her and that relationship.

I was a little shocked to say the least. I was a little pissed too that some girl whom I didn't know about was able to just step in and stop a potential relationship from forming because she had changed her mind. He and I continued talking. He began listing all the things about me that he was going to miss. He really sounded conflicted and in pain over his decision. I asked him what was it about her that made him want to be with her. His reply.... are you ready?.... was.... "well she's perfect on paper."

WTF!? I thought out loud. What I said was - "Perfect on Paper? She's a person not a product! All those things that you say you love about me that you don't have with her you are going to miss sorely. I feel really bad for you but I hope I'm wrong and she turns out to be so much more than Perfect on Paper."

How could I compete with someone who was Perfect on Paper? I couldn't and I can't. I am far from being Perfect on Paper. I am divorced, over 40 with 3 children. I have an ex-husband and two dogs. I need reading glasses, orthotics for my shoes and have retired my uterus from birthing any more babies. I have a good job. I am educated. I read for pleasure and personal growth. I dance tango. I embrace life with passion. I love with my whole body. I laugh and I move on. There is no way I will fit into someone's idealized version of a woman. I can't be anyone else but me.

I let this man go. He married Perfect on Paper and they now have a child. He still contacts me occasionally and tells me how much he misses me. I smile and say that is normal and expected for I know that I am so much more than just "perfect on paper".