All Of This Past, All Of This Over And Gone And Never Coming Back
Today has led me to do some contemplating about my life, and the last year or so of it. Again, every now and then I get someone who will tell me that I’m not over it all, and haven’t really dealt with all of the stuff that went on. Again, I insist this isn’t true. I’m not unscarred, and to a certain extent, I have to push down my memories of everything to not be effected by it all too much. I’m going to live with those events forever. But I can’t let those things be the sum of my being. I refused to be defined by the misery I’ve experienced.
The most relevant memories (the ones I hold onto and choose to remember) are the ones I learn from. You want so much to hang on to the good memories and let the bad ones fade, but somehow when I did that, all I could do was pine over what I felt I had lost. But that’s the thing… I wasn’t the only one who lost that person– the universe did. The boyfriend I had that I loved doesn’t exist anymore. I loved him as a whole, for who he was entirely. I cannot hold on to the bits and pieces of him that are left when the rest of him is not that person. I would catch glimpses, sometimes, of the person that I loved… but glimpses only. And you cannot stay in a relationship for bits and pieces when the rest of it hurts too much.The worst part of the whole experience was how long he pretended to love me. I understand the intention– staying with me was predictable and safe, and he didn’t want to hurt me. In not wanting to hurt me, he hurt me more than he would have if he’d made a clean cut early on. One day, I woke up in the arms of someone I thought wanted to marry me someday. That night I went to sleep in the arms of a man who was cheating and couldn’t wait to cut me out. He told me later on that he’d been falling out of love with me for the better part of a year, hurting and hating in silence, knowing that his love was waning and saying nothing. I was essentially robbed of the ability to fix whatever it was that was broken. I never stood a chance, and he made sure I wouldn’t. Someone who could spend 12 months letting go of me willingly is undeserving of my love… especially when I am the woman, who after he cheated, got down on my knees, sobbing, and begged him to marry me. Looking back, I realize that I was the one harming myself, and for the months afterward when I was still hanging on to what’s gone.The heart is an irrational being. I couldn’t make sense out of losing the crazy, unstoppable love I thought I had. I thought that if I loved someone enough, that would imply that they would love me that way in return. It’s not true.So here I am, the 6 full months later, and I’m standing on all the wreckage wondering how I ever let myself lay underneath it. My heart is whole again, and I am ready… so ready to share who I am with someone, and let them share themself with me. Knowing that I survived, and that I didn’t let some asshole who didn’t know what he had destroy my chance at happiness, puts that smile on my face every day. That isn’t to say I’m not apprehensive. If I thought that it would be wise, or advisable, there is something I would launch myself into headlong… but that door isn’t available to me. And maybe that just means that now is not the time. I’m in no hurry. When the time is right, I will find love again. In the meantime, I’m new. I’m open, and I’m here. I’ve been advised to simply stop chasing. Men, apparently, like to chase. That’s funny, too, because I’m not an easy woman to be had. I’ve had all of one serious, long-term relationship in my life, and one partner. ONE. I have high standards. I am a challenge. And I assure you, I am a woman worth fighting for. Still, nobody seems to.When it comes to me and taking a risk with my heart… I’ve done so every time. I think it’s unavoidable. I’d never have had a single relationship before if I wasn’t a risk-taker. Men, as I have known them, are too afraid to reach out and make an attempt to achieve what they want, and can only seem to find the courage once it is too late. With the first guy I felt I could have fallen in love with, he was uninterested until I was uninterested, and then he wanted me, badly. We did that back and forth dance for years, never quite being in the same place at the same time. And then when we were, he fucked it up horribly. I got really hurt, and he’s been apologizing to me ever since. I remain his friend, but that’s all it will ever be. I hold no regret there.Perhaps it is my chasing that has made me the good friend in almost every relationship I’ve had with men.With my ex, he liked me but didn’t know how to go about it. I did. I persued him. I took all of the emotional risk. It seemed, the more serious I became about our future together, even when we had been together for 6 years, he wasn’t ready to be an adult. He wanted to sow his seeds, I suppose. It’s strange, I’ve had that conversation with my Father, and to a certain extent, he may be right. Somehow, I know I’m going to end up with someone who has had several partners and many unfulfilling relationships. I haven’t really changed much. I’ve never been interested in sleeping around and putting notches in my belt. I’m the kind of person who makes a good life mate and soul mate. When I love you, I love you like you light my soul on fire. I’m bold, and confident, and outspoken, and opinionated, and emotionally intense, and serious even though I am a huge, geeky, goofball.Ultimately, my last relationship failed because I came to realize that there was only so far I could bend before I would break, and once I had broken, it still wasn’t enough. I’m at the age where I can only make so much compromise. My ex was trying to mould me, and create someone he wanted instead of accepting and loving who I am. Ladies and gents: THIS IS ME. Take me or leave me. If you leave me, it wasn’t worth trying for anyway. You’ll find someone who is right for you and obviously I am not it. There are things about myself I would like to change, and compromises I am completely willing to make. I am guarded enough with my heart to not let myself fall madly in love with someone who couldn’t picture forever with me. I fall into an intense form of like, and that like becomes love. Usually that transition occurs quickly, but there is a conscious decision I make to choose to love someone. For me and relationships, the requirement is believing that this person could be my husband someday. If I don’t think that is possible with someone… I don’t fall.I want to get married. I want to have babies. I don’t think of the average family life as settling. It’s funny, because career wise, it’s likely I could do almost anything I want to. I want a family. That doesn’t make me unmotivated, or lazy, or unimaginative. I don’t really know what that makes me. I just am. Either way, I like who I am.♥Kassi