Sex and the Single Soccer Mom

Who would have thought Taylor Swift would lead me to such profound soul-searching? Certainly not I, when I was purchasing the CD for my two young daughters. I was merely guessing that my little music-lovers would be enchanted by the wholesome-girl image and sweet lyrics about teenage love.

I certainly didn’t imagine that pressing play on Taylor’s most beloved hit would result in me, a 38 year old woman, sobbing like a school girl at a stoplight. To my daughter’s concerned cries of “What’s wrong, Mommy?” I only said that I was tired and emotional. Not a lie, yet certainly a half-truth.

I was a child who read fairy tales about princesses who after many challenges, found their one true love, then lived happily ever after in a state of bliss. Then I was a teenager, reading more adult versions of the same thing: Men and women who somehow, after all the fates conspire against them, find themselves in each others arms at last. In the end, it is insinuated that all will be right with the world, finally, now that love has prevailed. Since I’ve been an adult, the trend has continued. Albeit, sometimes with vampires, werewolves and the occasional S&M tendency thrown in for good measure. What can I say, tastes change!

All of that conditioning: Fairy tales, love stories, love songs, romantic movies…well, it all adds up to a mind-fuck of epic proportions when it comes to love. Especially now that I am a 38 year old single mother of two.

When I married my husband, I loved him. It wasn’t earth-shattering by any means. It was the sort of warm glow between two really good friends, who both happen to be virgins, who really would like to know what the big deal is about sex. There were moments throughout the years, after shared experiences and history and two children, when that love was intense. It was never, ever fairy tale love. It didn’t curl my toes. It didn’t give me butterflies. If the expectation of marriage hadn’t been so strong in my mind; if I hadn’t grown up in a culture that led me to believe marriage was my loftiest goal, if the circumference of my life hadn’t been so small…would we have married? I never really stopped to ask myself if I was marrying him for the right reasons, because I was too young and too sheltered to have the right questions. He was suitable and I really liked him. It resulted in well over a decade of my life and two amazing children, for which I am grateful. Yet a very girlish part of me felt cheated; where were the butterflies and romance and passion?

I have felt that feeling exactly once. It was a disastrous love affair that left me sick with longing, stripped of the person I knew myself to be. It was never anything other than doomed and when it was over, I was a shell only, with too many other complicating factors woven through to even begin to sort out where the love affair ended and everything else began. It sounds dramatic, but it is completely true to say I barely escaped that experience with my life intact. Is it fair to blame it on the love, when there were so many other circumstances at play? I don’t know, but it is still my only experience with love that consuming. It was heady, intoxicating and terrifying in the power that it wielded over me.

I’ve come close to that feeling once before, with a man I would continue to allow back into my life time and time again, despite the ways in which he betrayed my trust and heart. Much less the ways in which I betrayed my own innate knowledge of the fact I shouldn’t have stayed.

The others whom I’ve loved, it has taken more time. My most recent ex was the one with whom I felt I came the closest to achieving something real, without sacrificing the butterflies. Things built slowly for me, yet by the end I truly, truly loved him. Sadly, he didn’t seem to feel the same. Or I met him at a time in his life when things weren’t meant to be; it’s still hazy in my mind if it was “us” or the timing. Perhaps I’ll never know definitively.

Now, the romantic idealizations I’ve consumed my entire life are warring with my life experiences. I know there is no fairy tale, but understand all too well there has to be more than liking and complacency. Now I’m dating a man who is great in so many ways: Solid, dependable, generous, kind. Yet I just don’t feel the love for him which I know should be growing. I try to picture our life together and I simply can’t place myself there indefinitely. Doesn’t he deserve to have someone who feels like he is their most perfect fit? Don’t I? I know I have to end things and I feel sick over it. I don’t want to hurt him and I don’t want to be alone, but neither he nor I deserve to settle for complacency. It took me four months to know, but now that I do, I can’t put it off. It’s not fair to either of us.

So now I’m back to single again. I don’t want to waste so much of my life weeding through the online profiles and endless emails, but stepping back and doing nothing feels like settling for being alone. No one is going to knock on my door and ask me out. I’m NOT 19 and in college anymore. That’s the thing…my odds have narrowed and my window for opportunity is smaller. I have a full-time job, 2 kids, a house and responsibilities. I am not unfettered and I’m not as “out there” as I might have been at 19. Except…I wasn’t even “out there” at 19. I chose from my limited pool of approved boys…and other than my children, whom I will never regret, I obviously chose wrong. Now, at 38, with a life bound by obligations, how can I ever expect to meet someone if I withdraw from the dating pool? I’m too tired to go back out there right away and terrified not to.

If hearing Taylor Swift sing about a “Love Story” is enough to reduce me to tears, what does that say about my state of mind? Am I still yearning for some fairy tale, despite my strong assertions that I’m not? Am I merely sad and regretful that I’ll never experience that now, 12 years of marriage, 2 kids and 1 divorce later? Especially now, when I don’t really even believe it exists? Or maybe I’m just scared I missed my chance?

I still miss my ex. I miss our conversations and his insights. I miss his smile and hearing him laugh. I miss the look he gets in his eye when he somehow thinks he’s managing to be naughty. I miss our friendship. The question has been posed: Can we be friends? To which I still am uncertain of the answer. There are impediments to us being a couple, on his side and now, truthfully, on my own. Yet feelings still exist. Could we navigate the pitfalls of having a relationship, without having a “relationship”? As usual, I have no idea. Somewhere between advice, logic, rationalization and the voice of my inner self the answer lies. Which mean, of course, it might as well lie at the bottom of the ocean. It’s a lot to swim through for a clear view!

Meanwhile, a breakup is looming and I’m heartsick about it. If only Taylor Swift could write the ending for all our love stories. Life would be simpler and sweeter. I wouldn’t feel the need to weep at stoplights from regret and longing and fear of what I’ll never have–if it even exists. It would all boil down to  a simple Taylor concept:

“It’s a love story, baby just say yes.”

According to the Chinese Zodiac, I’m a Tiger. As with all astrology, I read things that sound like me:

“Tigers are sensitive, emotional. They are capable of great love, but they become too intense about it.” “Tigers tend to renounce confining traditional roles, opting for a more unfettered life.” “These creatures whose emotions are out-front have strong libidos and are lusty in their passions.”

Then I read things that don’t:

“Tigers are very confident, perhaps too confident sometimes. Although they love adventures, and are addicted to excitement it is better not to challenge a Tiger’s confidence. They like being obeyed and not the other way around.” “The Tiger, the living symbol of strength and power, generally inspires fear and
respect.”

My favorite is: “The Western term for a particularly fierce woman is “dragon lady,” but the Chinese call her a “tiger lady.” For this reason some Chinese avoid having children in the Tiger Year — for fear of having a daughter.” I’ve been called fierce (intense or passionate too) several times in my life.

Of course, I immediately had to look up my romantic compatibility with my previous (and current) partners. Three Dragons in my past (married to one and two fairly long relationships with the others), my most recent ex was a Pig (yes, I AM only referencing the Zodiac sign!) and the guy I’m currently dating is a Monkey (again, not insinuating anything other than his Zodiac sign). The Monkey and the Pig have a higher compatibility rating than the Dragons. According to the Chinese, I will be most compatible with a Dog or a Horse. Please, no jokes!

Of course, I’m also a Taurus, so then I had to look up the signs compatible with Taurus. Again, while it is fun to read about, my zodiac sign doesn’t fit me completely. My most compatible signs are Capricorn, Cancer and Pisces. My most recent ex was a Cancer and the guy I’m currently dating is a Capricorn.

It’s a nice fantasy to think there is someone “written in the stars” for me, but I don’t think any sort of astrology is going to help me find love. Still, it never hurts to hedge bets; if you happen to know a Horse or a Dog, send them my way!

Last night, after a long and challenging day, I spent the evening being a sloth. I came home from work, took the dog out, stripped off my professional clothing, ran an almost scaldingly hot bath, then climbed in with a glass of Merlot and a suspense novel.

I spent an hour and a half soaking in a bath perfumed with calming aromatherapy oils (enhanced by the very large glass of Merlot). At one point, I simply lay there and cried. When I was done, I put on a nightgown, curled up on the couch and watched tv. Then I went to bed and slept blissfully until morning.

Sometimes, being single is nice. Only worrying about my needs and not having to factor in another person’s feelings, not feeling required to do anything or be anything for anyone…sometimes I have to remind myself this is a perk of being alone. Especially as my current relationship feels very uncertain and I am possibly facing the prospect of singledom once again. There are evenings I feel so lonely I’m terrified at the thought of never finding a partner I can hope to spend my life with. I want to come home to arms around me and someone who gives a damn how my day was. That longing for connection beyond an evening, a month, a year has led me to date after date which I don’t enjoy. Feeling like I MUST continue the quest for a partner or I will miss out. To what end? Lots of wasted time and evenings I haven’t enjoyed. All the time I’ve spent perusing profiles, answering emails, going on fruitless dates…what if I’d spent it writing a book? Learning a foreign langugage? Volunteering in a cancer ward? I have wasted so much time on the pursuit of love. Yet I find myself still alone. I WANT love in my life. Yet I’m really tired of the search…

Once in awhile, an evening by myself, indulging only what I want, serves as a good reminder to keep it all in perspective. Being alone is sometimes a beautiful thing.

My plan for last night was to drink copiously until the psychic gateway was closed. I settled for working out hard and then a couple of glasses of wine. Still, it seemed to do the trick. Confused? Join my world…

I just went to see a psychic/clairvoyant. I’ve had the appointment for six months, because her schedule is so booked. To imagine that someone can fold back the veil and peer into a spiritual realm mostly invisible to others…well, it’s an idea that holds appeal. Especially if  I can receive guidance on matters near and dear to my heart. I’m not what someone would call a true believer, but try to have an open mind and heart. So I went hoping to find some answers or at least direction.

Some things revealed were expected, others were quite a surprise. Two of the people I most wanted guidance on, I was only left with more questions.

When I gave her only the first name of the man I’m currently involved with, she described his personality exactly. She named the virtues I know he possesses and the areas that might be concerning to me. She also said he loves me very much and will want to marry me. When I asked if this was something she saw in my future, she cryptically said: “You could be happy with him. It could be a good match for you.” She said I definitely will marry again, but  she didn’t say she saw me with the current guy.

When I gave her only the name of my ex-lover, with no backstory or comments, she listened to her “voices” for a long time. She laid out cards and studied them, then she looked up and studied me just as intently. “He thinks of you very often and you’re definitely on his mind,” she said, “but he feels he has no choice but to think of it in the past and try to view it from a hindsight perspective. He’s not a risk taker.”

Why even mention my ex-lover to her? Well, you see, I had one of THOSE dreams again. This is the third time I’ve dreamed about him in the past year; the other two dreams turned out to mean something.  I’ve never really considered myself to have any sort of precognition talent…except for this. So when I suddenly, out of the blue, dream of him and wake up feeling absolutely certain it means something, it left me feeling unsettled all day. It seemed a happy coincidence to be scheduled for a session with a psychic!

Her answer was no surprise to me really; I suspected he thought of me and I definitely knew he wasn’t much of a risk taker. Still, the pesky feeling of needing to check in after the dream persisted like a piece of food in my back teeth…a mosquito bite that won’t stop itching…the sound of the worst pop song you’ve ever heard stuck in your head. In other words, I felt compelled to do something about it and really wish I didn’t. Of course, when I described this scenario to my sister-in-law, she gave me the look and said: “So, you really just wanted to contact him and the dream was just an excuse, right?” To which I offer a hearty “Nay!” I think. I’m a little muddled on my motivations now, but will still stick to my original story, which was the dream.

So I email him. Nonchalantly. To which I receive a quick response of: “Freaking uncanny! What are you doing for lunch?” I immediately began rubbing calming aromatherapy oil on my wrists and temples and placing my head between my knees to quell the lightheadedness (Does that EVER actually work???) I found myself wishing for smelling salts. Instead,  I place an emergency call to my best friend to ask, in a whispered and hysterical shriek, “What does it mean? What does it mean?” I pace the length of hallway at my place of employment, then back again. Finally, I send a response.

While driving to meet him, I am chanting to myself: Let it be what it will be. Have no expectations. You’re in a relationship. You’re good enough, you’re smart enough and gosh darn it, people like you! I pray to arrive before him, so I will have time to compose myself. No such luck; I drive past him in the parking lot (even WORSE than arriving after him, because then there is the awkward “is he going to stand in the rain and wait for me” question and awkward side hug). We order and then, finally, we are sitting across from each other at the table.

As I looked into his eyes, there was such a weight of history between us. How can I look at this man and feel casual? Comfortable, comforted, challenged, aroused, amused, hurt, pissed off…but never casual. What attitude do you strive for when meeting an ex-lover for an impromptu lunch? Especially when during the first five minutes they announce that they’ve discovered your anonymous blog and have been reading your private thoughts about them for months?

What could I do? Note the irony that my last blog post specifically mentioned my fear that this man would discover my blog and be hurt by it? Feel naked, vulnerable and stripped of the anonymity that I had mistakenly believed was a defense? Aside from that, I did the only thing that seemed to make sense and leave me with some sense of control: I waited to hear him out.

Pros: He likes my blog. A lot. He thinks I’m a great writer and encouraged me to work on a publishable project. In some ways it was a weird relief for him to read my innermost thoughts about our relationship, angry rants included, and still be able to look me in the eye and not hate me. Knowing he had sought out my words, then was interested enough in them to keep reading, felt…good.

Cons: He knows my innermost thought about our relationship and how I’ve felt about him. I feel naked and vulnerable. Knowing he knows THAT much about me is just another bond in some ways, one that feels great and really sucks at the same time. One of the most painful aspects to our relationship last year was how much I let my guard down. The ending felt like a sucker-punch to the gut and I had nothing to protect me. I was curled protectively around the searing pain for months, praying for relief, terrified of ever feeling that again. To have someone know that much about you can be a beautiful thing, but it can also hurt like hell. Additionally, I am now having to summon my bravery to write my innermost thoughts and feelings without compromise. I absolutely cannot allow myself to think: What if he thinks this? What if he knows I still feel that? Does it give him power over me to know these things? To which I have to tell myself: It doesn’t matter. He has asked that I not feel the need to edit content, so I’m not going to. He will have to determine how he receives my words.

After a long conversation, I wasn’t unhappy with our lunch. It was great to see him. Yet it did leave me at sixes and sevens. It takes questions I have about my current relationship and amplifies them significantly. Am I over my ex-lover enough to give the current one an unbiased chance? Why am I not over my ex-lover? Is it really love that keeps me from moving on? Or is it some unhealthy fixation (as my younger sibling suggests with a great deal of verbal force) on the fact that he hurt me ? My confidence and self-esteem were seriously shaken; do I feel the need to prove my lovability? Is it wanting what I can’t have? Is it (again, my irritating sibling insists) feeling on a profound level that I affect this man, that he cares for me, loves me, is drawn to me….just enough that I can’t let go? Intellectually, I know I can’t be with him. He’s even more at sixes and sevens than I am! Emotionally…there is still a bond.

My current relationship holds so many of the elements that seemed to be frequently missing in my last: He always calls when he says he’ll call. He sends me texts to tell me he’s thinking of me. He sends me flowers at work. He’s NOT a romantic guy, but he takes the time to let me know I matter to him and he’s willing to make an effort. I never feel like an option in his life, but I feel like he works hard to make me feel valued and special. He is a reliable, dependable, great guy. We have fun together. I genuinely like him.

That’s the problem; I like him.  I don’t love him though, not even a little bit. Should you love someone after 3 and 1/2 months? Should you at least be starting to feel like it’s heading that way? Am I comparing him to my last relationship and the emotions I still have surrounding it and dooming the relationship? Why the hell can’t I just be overwhelmed with this great guy who wants me? Why can’t I just lie next to this man and feel moved the way I should? Yet, so far, I don’t. He seems like such a great catch (smart, good communicator, involved father, financially stable, generous, honest) and I like him enough that I have found myself trying to just give it more time. Afterall, feelings can grow for someone with whom there isn’t a huge spark. I’ve felt it happen. Yet I think the time is drawing close for me to make a decision.

So now I’m left wondering: Why do I seem to have some sort of weird, psychic connection with my ex-lover? What does that mean? Why does it feel like something about the relationship is not done…when it is clearly NOT on? Why do I feel drawn to him? Is it more about me being fucked up than about genuine emotion? Why can’t I force myself to feel more for the current guy? Is it because of the ex-guy? Could I be anymore of a an overthinking, emotive, mess right now? Of course, I am hormonal, so that clearly isn’t helping.

Perhaps my sole question to the psychic should have been, “Do the voices tell you why I am such a psycho?”

The last couple of months have been busy! I’ve ended a relationship, traveled to a foreign country and finally managed to get clarity on the ending of my marriage (which was over four years ago). All of this inbetween working a full time job, raising two children, taking care of a home and yard and all the other things that go along with living an adult life.

I’ve gone out with a very nice man several times. I like him, but am certainly not ready to rush into anything (including the bedroom). The only action I’ve gotten in the last couple of months that involved another human being was when I was chosen for random searching TWICE during my travels. It left a lot to be desired.

I’ve exchanged several emails with a man who lists his age as 103, refuses to tell me how old he is and insists on dialogue that proclaims him royalty. He set forth challenges of wit, intelligence and creativity (which I passed) and said the final challenge (and the first reward) would be a date with him. While amusing and interesting, I fear showing up for a date and finding a 23 year old with delusions of grandeur (the only hint of his age I have is that he’s in law school and looks young).

During my travels I was contacted via dating app by two different men in the country I visited (I declined, due to time constraints). In each of the airports of my connecting flights, I was also contacted by men who wanted to meet me. Hmmm…how much do you think I could accomplish romantically between connections?

What do you get when your ex-husband makes over $100,000 more than you a year (that figure already includes the child support he pays); drives an expense-free, company-purchased sports car with free gas, free insurance, and free car maintenance; perks that include free cell phone and free internet;  can give himself raises and bonuses; has unlimited sick/vacation days and gets paid no matter if or when he shows up? You get a cliche that borders on the absurd, especially if you throw in a live-in hipster, minor-celebrity girlfriend who increases his all-important status exponentially, self-absorption, self-professed manipulation tactics, greed, an inability to see the big picture, excessive stubbornness, controlling behavior and a hefty dose of “in order to screw you and make my point, I’m totally willing to screw myself” attitude…well, the last few weeks have been interesting. That’s not to say lacking in stress. Yet, the silver lining is that for the first time since my divorce, I’m no longer second-guessing or mourning. I won’t hash out the patterns of behavior that left me feeling inferior and flawed, as well as crazy. Yet the latest behavior/responses from my ex-spouse have finally brought me clarity. Now, it’s about looking out for my family’s interests and remembering to laugh. Sometimes, things are so extreme and absurd you simply have to laugh long and hard, then do your best to take care of business.

I have some interesting things coming up in the future; I’m sure I’ll write about them soon. Until then, I will continue to appreciate the absurdities in life, along with all its many joys.

“There is so much hurt in this game of searching for a mate, of testing, trying. And you realize suddenly that you forgot it was a game, and turn away in tears.”   ~ Sylvia Plath

Is it morbid to open with a quote by Syliva Plath, on this gray and rainy day?

Yesterday morning, I lay and watched my lover sleeping. I held him, breathed in his scent and tried to imprint the sensation of his skin against mine upon my memory. We luxuriated in waking and loving, knowing it was the last time. When he rose from my bed and dressed, leaving me with kisses and a silence that carried all the words it was pointless to say, I didn’t cry. I haven’t wept since.

Today, I feel those tears pressing at the back of my eyes and rising up into my throat to choke me. I’ve made the right decision, the only decision that makes any sort of sense for my future. I don’t have regret at attempting the relationship again, nor do I regret the decision to have one final evening together before we took our separate paths. However, the incomprehensible waste of potential fills me with grief and a sense of frustration and impotence. It’s hard to find someone who matchs you in so many ways, much less someone who makes you think and feel and that you also want to see naked every day. To walk away from something some people never even find, well, my mind and my heart are having a hard time understanding. I know why I’m walking away; what I can’t understand is why he’s fine with watching me do it.

I can’t save this relationship alone, so I’m choosing to save myself.

I’m not broken enough to follow along on the path of darkness Plath ultimately did, but I can certainly read her poetry and musings and feel a kinship; which is part of the reason I’m walking away now. My soul hovers too closely to shadow to openly invite it into my life. I’m not a pessimist, but my emotions are intense.  Loving and staying with a man who can’t decide if he loves me enough to stay is inviting emotional disaster. The pride I have is that leaving is a mark of my own personal growth and increase in strength. I’m not willing to self-destruct for love anymore. There’s a verse from a song that resonates with me: “Love doesn’t hurt, so I know/I’m not falling in love/I’m just falling to pieces.” I’ve fallen to pieces and had to carefully glue myself back together; I have zero desire to ever be broken again. I’m not broken, just bruised enough that I want to lie curled around the ache for a few days (weeks?) and let myself heal.

This is the end of a love I’ll treasure for the rest of my life, despite the ache. Even if one day we should wind up back in each other’s lives, this relationship as it existed is over. A brand-new one would have to be created. I can’t begin to know if the possibility exists. Yet I know the door is now open for new possibilities, new loves…

I’m going to take a bit of time to catch my breath and let the bruises heal, then I’m going to embrace possibility.

So…for the past two weeks, I’ve been struggling. Don’t get me wrong: I look fine on the outside. If anything, I’ve been putting MORE effort into looking pulled together and cheerful. I smile and laugh and make plans. I go home and spend meaningful time with my lovely children and accomplish necessary tasks. I’m exercising and taking care of myself. On the outside, I look normal.

On the inside, frequently throughout the day, I look like this:

“The Scream” ~ Edvard Munch

Of course, this is an improvement from last November, when my lover ended our relationship with no warning. I felt such overwhelming and unrelenting grief for weeks. Breathing, living, being forced to exist in such pain was agony. I was more like this, every single moment of the day…for weeks and weeks:

“Ophelia” ~ John Everett Millais

My lover blames his inability to be in a healthy relationship with me on two things:

1. My life isn’t what I want it to be, therefore I need to focus on feeling better about my life and my successes, rather than focusing attention on a relationship. I don’t know how long this process will take, but I am incapable of truly giving to someone.
2. My feelings for you have a strange duality. When I am with you, I can’t get enough of you; the conversation is fantastic and I always feel like I get wonderful insights from talking to you; I think you are an amazing woman; our sexual relationship is fantastic and I love you. When I’m not with you, I don’t find myself moved to contact you, I don’t daydream about you or what our life could be together and I feel like I should feel/do all of those things
3. Conclusion: Something must be missing from our relationship…or maybe it’s where I’m at in my life…no, I think maybe something is missing…or maybe not and it’s just me…then again, I’ve felt that before when I was younger and I think it’s possible I’ll feel it again…but maybe not…I’m such a fucking, confused mess (Uhm…I might be paraphrasing that last line according to my own interpretation.)

I’ve been so confused and hurt and angry over this situation, that I took 15 minutes to meditate quietly before he came over last Wednesday. What is it I want? What can I live with? How do I want to write this ending? I tried to focus on what I’m GOOD at–love, intuition, empathy–rather than what I was angry about. When he arrived I hugged him and got him a glass of wine. He was tense, I was heartsick and nervous. Eventually, though, we managed to find our way and truly talk about things. By the end, I was reminded of the reasons I came to love him.

I told him I couldn’t be in a romantic relationship with him anymore, because none of my needs were being met. He offered the above reasons why…to which I am able to offer nothing. I love him and I acknowledge that love will die with nothing to nourish it. A few years ago I would have clung and continued to try to make the relationship what I wanted, despite everything. Now, there’s a part of me that echoes my brother’s sentiments on the subject: “He doesn’t deserve you.”

We are going to have one last night together. A “no holds barred” sort of night, because afterall, the pressure is off, right? Hopefully he can BE with me, be the man I love and have seen so little of since we reconnected. The man I love has been hiding under this self-centered and apathetic shell. Afterall, it’s one night. It’s easier to be your best self for one night, rather than have to continue to rise to that ideal day after day. We both walk away from the relationship with one last, fabulous memory.

Still, I am dealing with sporadic moments of intense sadness. Perhaps it’s unfair (he says it is, of course), but I can’t help but feel like he is looking for a fairy-tale. Grown-up love doesn’t feel like high-school, college-age infatuation; when you find someone who makes you 90% happy at the end of every day and that you have an incredible relationship with, you don’t throw that away because you don’t daydream about them. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe he’ll meet a woman he gets all fluttery about, daydreams about, wants to be with every moment and who will wind up as an incredible partner for the rest of his life. Yet my gut instinct is telling me this is still much more about him rather than “us”, not wanting to limit his options, being afraid to commit and feeling like he’s not succeeding at life. It all boils down to the same thing. We’re not right for each other.

Now if only I could convince my heart of the wisdom behind my choice. If only that churning sadness would go away based on the realization he has done nothing to deserve being with me. Why can’t my emotions catch up to my logic?

I think this is what my lover (ex-lover?) is looking for..

“Not Like The Movies” ~ Katy Perry

“Never allow someone to be your priority while allowing yourself to be their option” – Mark Twain

So, after almost two months of being on an emotional rollercoaster, I think it’s time I stepped off. After our tumultuous meetings and discussions in March, I was prepared to walk away from the man I loved based on his clearly stated “inability” to be in a relationship. Resigned, after spending the night together for what I believed to be the last time, I said: “Having you not be a part of my life will leave an empty place.” He replied: “Do I have to not be a part of your life?” We agreed to “date”, with sexual monogamy being the only commitment for now. I knew he would need a lot of space and I would need to be patient; I also knew I couldn’t count on what the outcome of his soul-searching might be. He knew I was still in love with him and wanted a full relationship.

The two questions I posed to him in order to proceed: “Do you love me?” and “Do you see a future with me?” He answered yes to both questions.

Since then I’ve heard (multiple times) about how he’s not good for me right now (but he loves me), he’s not capable of truly being with me and meeting my needs (although love is definitely something he needs and wants in his life), he’s unsure if I’m the “one” for him or surely he’d feel like making more of an effort? (after talking about “true love” he experienced 20 years ago).

Or in other words, he has given himself an excuse to behave badly (I’m no good for you) so if he hurts me, he can say: “You can’t say I didn’t warn you.” He’s given himself an excuse to not put any effort in this relationship (while being willing to accept all the love I want to give him) by saying: “Maybe if YOU were the right person, then I would be more likely to make more of an effort.” Because if the RIGHT person came along, if this were TRUE love, then wouldn’t that person tranform him and make being in a relationship effortless?

Yet he doesn’t want to completely lose me, so he offers just enough with one hand to keep me around (I love you in every sense of the word, I can’t keep myself away from you physically or emotionally, etc.), while making sure the other hand is warning me away.

I can handle giving him space. I can deal with being patient. I absolutely cannot and will not deal with him being wishy-washy about whether I’m the “right” person for him (despite his love for me). I won’t tolerate not having ANY of my needs met and having someone justify not even making an effort. I won’t accept somebody being an asshole and making excuses for it by saying “I’m just in a selfish time right now.” These things are crippling emotionally; by staying I am only enabling the apathetic, bad behavior. Even finding a time to have “the talk” with my lover has been difficult, because he has so many other, more pressing engagements. I can’t help but wonder if he lied to me when he said he wasn’t dating anyone else. How else do you explain three nights when he simply cannot reschedule so that we can talk? Especially after him choosing to not contact me for a week.

Tonight, he’s managed to squeeze in a couple of hours before his evening plans. This is the ONLY time he can possibly make time to see me. I’m trying to realize this is about him and not me, but it still hurts to be treated like I’m the bottom of the barrel priority. Tonight I will tell him it is over.

I’ve thought about whether or not I regret reconnecting with him for these last couple of months. The answer is no. After he ended things with me last November, I was so crushed. The only thing that kept going through my mind was that I had missed out on this great guy. I pined for the possibility of this really great relationship, with this really great man. Now…well, the relationship is ending again, yet this time I am the one walking away. My lover has questioned whether I am the “right” person for him because of his apathetic behavior. Despite saying he loves me, can see spending his life with me, always enjoys our time together, respects me, values my opinion, feels comforted and loved when with me and always has great, passionate sex. I call bullshit on this. However, I can say that I no longer feel I’m with the “right” guy based on his apathy, lack of respect for me and my time, lack of courtesy, insensitivity and unwillingness to be there for someone he claims to love. I’m getting a break-up Do-Over. The end result is the same, but the process has been so very different.

I’m walking away before I despise him. This is, actually, the most loving response I can think of at the moment. Which doesn’t mean my heart isn’t breaking. It is. Still, I think the healing time will be faster and I’ve figured out a lot this second time around with him. So…here’s to do-overs, even if they still, ultimately, suck.

What does it mean when your current “relationship” drives you to seek out Eastern religions? Wait, don’t answer that…

One of the basic tenants of Buddhism is non-attachment, something I’ve struggled with in the past when studying the Buddha’s teachings. I attach deeply, so this was mystifying to me. How can you practice Buddhism, love someone and be in a committed relationship with them?

As I’ve read, I’ve come to understand this path is more about the expectation you place upon the relationship. Am I using it to fill a void within myself? Do I expect it to make me happy? Am I relying on the other person’s love and presence in my life to make me complete?

Of course, the complete path of non-attachment would be to accept my relationship with my lover in the present moment and have zero expectations for the future. If he were to call me up tomorrow and say, “I don’t feel we can be together”, I would be accepting, wish him happiness and not be crushed by the loss of the relationship. That sounds like a great place to work toward!

So I decided to review where I was at on the non-attachment path of zen:

• Do I feel like I “need” this person/relationship to make me happy? (Yes. Part of me is absolutely convinced if my lover and I end things I’ll never find another decent man and will end up dying alone, my lifeless and lonely body not found for days by my family) 
• Am I living in the present moment? (Sure…as long as anticipating, analyzing and planning for the future present moment, pretty much all the moments between the current present moment, counts!)
• Am I placing expectations on him? (If he doesn’t return my text, phone call, initiate contact… you might as well book me a stay in a cozy padded cell until he does.)
• Would I be crushed and curl into the fetal position and weep for days if it suddenly ended ended again? (Hide the wine and old Sarah McLachlan Cd’s!)

Obviously, I have a long way to go toward enlightenment.

I think in theory, practicing non-attachment with my relationships is a wonderful plan. I DO need to work on being happy with myself and my life, without a partner. I absolutely need to stop worrying about the future and placing expectations on a specific outcome and simply enjoy the moment. I very much want to know I’ll be okay no matter what happens.

In reality, it’s going to be a struggle.

Adding to my confusion is that tiny voice that whispers “All this Buddhist non-attachment discussion might simply be a way of rationalizing staying in a relationship you’re not totally okay with.” Afterall, despite my love for my lover, I do have concerns about how this will all turn out. I’m not 100% happy with how he’s choosing to proceed in the relationship or the attention he’s giving to me. What is the balance between loving someone and having no expectations of them and ensuring your own needs get met?

Of course, all of this deep analysis of non-attachment is probably the antithesis of the path to zen.

Sigh.

Time to go meditate.