Tag Archives: communication

The Smallest Connection

To be human is to grieve, because if we grieve we are in touch with the swelling of emotions that make us so complex, the glue that permanently connects the puzzle pieces and fragments that make us human compared to the clinical diagnosis that seeks to pull us to pieces for fragmented labels of understanding. Grief is the soul, the definition of what it means to be human. You cannot be human without grief.

Oddly enough I can create fantasies in my head that cause me to grieve over and over again (which is why I suppose dramas and chick flicks are so profitable), but joining that to the real world is so much harder.

Once again I am drawn to think of him… And I know deep down in my heart that if I reconnect with that pain and grieve the loss of him – not just who he is but on some level the fantasy I made him out to be, I can draw my defenses down just a little bit more and connect with that realm of pain that promotes love and understanding. I loved him, and I still try to swallow that pain and stuff it down which is why in a rare eternity he can pop out of the blue and I’ll still talk to him rather than reject him.

I still hope to work through the conflicts that caused all this because I acknowledge I still love him to some respect, be it the real him or something imagined I conjured up in my head like the sorceress that I am. The illusioned piece of my head says “if you talk things out you can move on without him”, and the illusioned part of my heart says “if you talk things out it’ll draw you closer together, his problem is a fear of intamacy due to an unacknowledged level of emotional childhood abuse anyway”, and the the disillusioned part of my head says “you don’t need to talk to him to move on, it’s a lie. You’ve tried it before and it never works. Lay off the Oedipus complex for a while”, and the disillusioned piece of my heart says “stop trying to rescue him or salvage the past. You’re not a hero or a savior, so stop it.” So how do I grieve without becoming obsessive then… In grief we do carry people in our hearts that we live because we loved them, and it’s okay to express that… But this? There’s something very comorbid about it because it’s codependent. In truth I made him my savior to some extent, and for that I am sorry; not only is it inappropriate and too much burden to bare at a young age, but it’s obvious to me now that he was only playing out a cycle he lived at home through me, and I inadvertently perpetuated that dysfunction, which is in part the comfort he experienced being around me.

I wish I could rewind time with the knowledge that I have now and take it all back, but that’s not moving forward.

That’s where my confusion in all this lies… I don’t know what’s healthy to grieve and hold on too, versus cast out and let go of. I was too emeshed in him, and he just… I don’t know. I placed too much on him, and for that I am truly sorry. I know I’ve come to the pice of understanding when it comes to him before, but I keep revisiting it. I was blown away last October when he told me that he felt as if I understood him better than most people, as I not only believed it to be both true and false, but also dangerous. The sad thing is I feel as if I see him now clearer than I ever was able too in the past, and I think his information seeking was clarification for information I couldn’t provide at that time…. Again, I’m not his savior and it’s not my job to rescue him… Nor does he need it. Once he’s in the right place at the right time of his journey of understanding… If it every happens… He’ll do the work necessary to heal on his own. I doubt he’d want to acknowledge that anyone would have such faith in him (especially out of my mouth), but it’s true.

Truth

It would be nice if one of these days I could look back on us and rather than chronically saying sorry I could look on everything with loving eyes and say “peace be unto you.” Why the strange sentiment I don’t know, but somehow, just to acknowledge that as I have feels so right.

A love come undone

This one goes out to the one I love. This one goes out to the one I’ve left behind. – REM

I can’t stand it. I close my eyes, see his smile, and melt. It’s happening again, just like in the beginning when it all started. Amazing sex, an intimacy that’s largely one-sided, but still coupled with the desire to say “I love you”. There seems to be an undercurrent of reciprocity on his end, but much like myself, he doesn’t seem to wanna fall in too deeply. My trust for him is slim as a result of the drama of the past, and quite frankly I don’t wanna fall at all. My mind is screaming “STOP FUCKING HIM” and my body is screaming “ARE YOU CRAZY!?! HELL NO”, and a deeper part of me is starting to grieve. It’s that depth that kills me, both in love and despair. Chaos is beauty, and no such statement seemed evermore truer than that which reflects off this man. Sex fucking god-demon that he is. I never understood why he pursued me, other than having low-self esteem, which he’s attracted to himself based on his narcissistic personality disorder. That ability to manipulate and control is what really wants me to keep him at a distance. He started it today at the grocery store when he complained about me getting sub rolls because of how unhealthy they are. I chose to ignore it and bought it anyway… But slowly it begins. The truth is, part of me wants to sit down and openly and honestly discuss this. The other half of me says this is my problem, not his, so don’t bother saying anything unless he says something first. Pros and cons… Pros and cons… I started to open up, but he didn’t want to ask questions. He was always bad at that however, so there’s very little I could actually hold against him. All in all, he’s been amazing, but I’m bound to believe that his ability to be generous is solely for the benefit of our son, and the sex is simply primal and selfish, in perhaps the best of all contexts. The sex is mighty fine… Not much else I can say.

Sorry if this doesn’t read right. I’m typing this from my iPhone and it keeps editing on me. Will need to proof read and fix in the morning. For now, bed. Sweet dreams…