Tuesday, March 18, 2014

The Ongoing Whine

I sent a whine to my friends, because it was the anniversary of my divorce and I was feeling sad.  The responses varied from silence to reassurance (you ARE beautiful and beloved) to sympathy (anniversaries are like poking at a wound that is healing:  fresh pain), to irritation (he never loved you, he USED you, just get over it already.)

All of these are valid responses of course, as is my ongoing pondering.  I find that I have been distracting myself from really thinking about the divorce and from moving on, though.  I let myself focus on other people (again) and I let myself be hurt because the new friends don't love me wholly and immediately.  The real problem is the men:  they seem to think that I'm looking to replace D, and I'm not.  I don't know why I traded in my single blessedness for marital strife, but I do know that I am not ready, if ever, to partner up again.  While one friend commented that it would be nice to add someone who adores me to the interesting and creative mix that is my life, another said that partnering was an anomaly, a small part of me.

And I think that last is the truer observation.

So what is it about me (or them) that makes men think I'm looking for a relationship they cannot give?  It's not just about lack of attraction.  For example, I've met some polyamorous men.  First they pursue me, and then they panic at the thought of getting close to me.  I'm not sure what it is about me that attracts these men and then repels them.  I'm not asking to be the one and only, I just want to be treated like I'm important and wanted.  Surely the point of polyamory is that the relationships can be multiple and loving, as long as they are honest?  Apparently not.

And of course, the monogamous men are looking for Ms. Right.  They are not interested in casual dating, and I'm not interested in anything but casual.  Somehow it's okay to be rejected on that basis, though.

Really, I don't know why I let this distract me.  I never did need men to make me feel loved or happy, and my past experience has shown the fallacy of seeking fulfillment in that arena.   Is it because I tried and failed at partnering that I'm trying again?  If D had died instead of being divorced, would I say, "Okay, been there, done that, time to try something new"?

Or do I just want to get laid?

What are my thoughts? One night I had a strong dream about T. I think about him a lot. A year ago, he was still a major part of my life, taking up my attention and focus, constantly texting, always aware of what what going on with me, checking up on me every day, helping me get through various obstacles. He was there, and he cared. I think.

Missing him is an ongoing thing, almost more painful than missing D. I wrote to T from the train, telling him there's a hole in my heart where he used to be. He did not reply. I didn't expect him to. But he was such a huge part of my recovery, and I thought he'd remain part of my life and he has not. I can't accept it. I don't know why he dropped me so abruptly. I keep wondering what I did, even though I know, really know, it has nothing to do with me. I am the person I've always been. Stronger, but still needy. Resilient, but still fragile. Fragile. The song D sang to me at our wedding.

A year ago, T was a crush, a support, a shoulder to cry on. Now, what is he? And who am I, and what do I want?

I am living in the mountains in New Mexico...something I've dreamed of doing for years. But, I'm alone. I'm working, but it doesn't feel like I'm working. I'm not free to take off and see people, but in any case there is no one I want to see, nothing I want to do, no one who wants to see me. I know people, and I like them, but none of them are soul mates, and none of them pursue me. In fact, they reject me when I get too close.

It appears that I need to find what I want to do. M thinks that I'm living the good life: choosing my work, choosing what I do for fun, what I do for sustenance. B thinks I'm being creative and growing. V thinks I'm pursuing my dream of living in New Mexico.

I think I'm floundering. I know that I'm floundering. I think I need to talk to my therapist again, set up some counseling sessions. Cry. Figure it out.

Sometimes I want to write to D. Sometimes I want him back in my life. Why? Did I leave him because I'd had enough? Or did I leave him because I had a crush on T? I don't think so. But I don't know if it's true that I just ran out of anything to give. I don't know what made me decide to leave at that exact juncture, and what made me decide to stay away. I do know my friends and family exerted a lot of pressure to keep me pointed towards escape. My health and finances improved dramatically: I can't ignore that.

But my emotions are still raw. I still don't know what I want to do, and I'm still mourning the loss of....what? The loss of a lover? Of the future I had planned with him? Of purpose? Of someone who loved me and thought I was beautiful?

Surely I can plan my own future, supply my own purpose, love myself, think I'm beautiful. Surely I don't need another person for that.

Meanwhile, I'm dating men who are married or in committed relationships. Even though the relationships are "open," it's clear who's the second class citizen here. Me. Regardless of what they say about loving relationships, it does not feel good. If the primary partner decided they didn't want me around, I'd be gone. It's not like a friendship with a married couple. My emotions are more strongly involved, and the hurt of rejection is more strongly evident. Why am I doing this? Why am I putting my focus on relationships that hurt?

Do I miss that pain?




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