Thursday, October 30, 2014

Everyone's Loss

Well, I got my vent out. I REALLY needed that. I have this insane desire to be ‘heard’ sometimes. It’s not totally that; it's when I feel I’m being…stifled. I cannot stand feeling like I'm being shut up or shut down. I had to let it out. I needed to "vent my hurt after not being able to address it with the person who needed to hear it."  (I used your words, J. Nicely said.)

And I did. And I felt better.

And then I felt…numb.  Which was a nice change for the moment.

Now? Now I am just…sad.  An all-the-way-down-to-my-bones…heavy…quiet…sadness.

I know what I did wrong. I chased after someone who decided to walk away. Because he didn’t tell me what he was doing, I would not believe it until I was formally told. And when I wasn’t, I waited…and waited…and got resentful. I needed to hear what was going on, refusing to see the signs, allowing hope on a good day. We all have our “things.” I believed it was a temporary bump in the road, and sat back asking very little and getting less. I would “lash out” (his words). Yes. I would, when he didn’t give what was promised, as little as it was. I saw how my push could make it worse, too.

We are not communicating anymore. The wall has been built, locked, BLOCKED (I had to throw that in! :) ), the door is shut. “Just somebody that I used to know” is repeating itself in my head.  And I understand, too.

We have our ‘pat phrases’ or ‘standards’ that we say to cover certain situations. Funerals…weddings…sickness…hard times… and of course, break-ups. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing; I've been guilty of saying many of them myself. They are meant to acknowledge and show support in situations when there is really nothing that can be said.

I’ve been getting them now.

One of the common ones is that “He’ll never find anyone like you.” That particular phrase I don’t subscribe to. I’ve never said it to anyone, about me or anyone else. But I’m bringing it up because someone recently told me a rather funny story about it that puts it in a different perspective for those who think like that:

  • “Anyway, I was grousing to Crazy Tommy about how “she’ll never find anyone like me” and he started laughing hysterically. “What’s so funny?” I asked. “That comment that she’ll never find anyone like you,” he said between laughs. “Yeah, well it’s true,” I said incredibly defensively and arrogantly. “It may be, but the other truth is she’s not going to look for somebody like you. She doesn’t want somebody like you,” he said. “She had somebody like you and then left somebody like you. Why would she do that just to go find somebody else like you?”


I'd never heard it put like that, but that is basically what I believe. We all can't be everyone's 'cup of tea,' you know. (heavy sigh)  


There are two that are more common:

The first is that “you’ll find someone else.”  I always laugh at that one. I was never looking, and I’m not going to start now, just because of this.

I have a great analogy (I’ve been coming up with some good ones lately. Lol. Tooting my own horn, there) in response to that:

I love my car. No, I FUCKING love my car. I’m so happy with it that if I ever won the lottery I would just fix it up and add heated seats. And because I am so happy with my car, I don’t look at any others. And then one day, I looked at another car at the instigation of a friend. I never would have considered looking at it, otherwise. There was no reason to; I was VERY happy with what I had. And I not only looked at the other car, I took it for a test drive—and fell in love with it. For one moment, I thought I was going to be able to get it. And then I found out I couldn’t. And I went back to my own car, still very happy with it, but things had changed. I found myself still wishing I could have that other car and unable have the same enjoyment with the car that I had been so happy with. I'm resentful that the other car was shown to me, because ignorance is truly bliss. If I didn’t take it for a test drive, I never would have known I wanted it.

That was me. Happy Before. Missing Nothing. Then I was shown something I wasn’t aware of, something that I didn’t know I wanted until it was dangled in front of my face.

If I hadn’t been shown, I would still be blissfully ignorant and happy, and not feeling now like I am missing something.

I am missing something. And I don’t want to be.

I can’t look even back and smile at the good times. (They weren’t just good. They were wonderful and beautiful.)

But right now, I need to go back to where I was. Ignorant and happy. And pretend it never happened.

I have to pretend it never happened...


The other, and most common phrase heard in this situation is:

“It’s his loss.”

--First of all, I am not thinking about his loss; I am thinking about my own.

But beyond that, I have to say that we all lost something. Everyone loses something when this happens. I can’t define what he may have lost; but the bottom line is that there is always a loss when something ends. I know my kids lost something, too. They got attached; probably more so because they were aware of my own investment (This is why my kids are NEVER part of my private life. But I thought this was different—no, it was different). And they lost the ignorant me.

I lost the obvious. But it was more than that. There had been a great friendship there, too. And that is gone. And I treasure good friendships.

And I do understand.

But the loss is still there.

***

And to the Universe:
No matter that I didn’t want this to happen at all
No matter that I was hurt again by having to wait so long
No matter that it was handled coldly
I finally was told what I needed to hear.
For that,
Thank you.