Brave Optimism

 I decided it was time to deactivate my social media accounts again to get serious about this last month of studying, but I checked through my memories for the day just now and came across a note I wrote three years ago just over a month after the man had completely blindsided me with the break up and I honestly have never been more hurt, and this is coming from someone who has been unasked to be a bridesmaid by one of their oldest friends, and had a parent kick them out of their apartment and put them up in a hotel because their girlfriend didn't like them.... so like that's saying something. 

Rainy lazy Sunday thoughts

Life is made up of "Befores" and "Afters" that change you for the better or for the worse. While these moments can be life events or unforseen circumstances, they are often accompanied by someone entering or leaving your life, both of which can turn into blessings or lessons and it's up to you to decide how to frame that within your life narrative. I'll never subscribe to the belief that when things don't work out how you expected them to, that it means it wasn't worth it, or was all a waste of time. I just don't think it's ever that black and white. 

Oftentimes when someone hurts you immensely it's easy to respond with anger, at them, and to yourself when you begin to run through all the things you could have done differently to change the outcome. But maybe when someone hurts you to the degree where you wonder if you ever even knew them, they don't currently know themselves, and there's nothing you can do to help them, and it's honestly best to part ways. Give yourself a chance to see what else is in store for you. However, should your paths align again, it'll be your choice to forgive or to continue to love from afar cuz lord knows once deep feelings form, they are always there, they just get a little bit fainter over time. 

There's so much emphasis to be happy, and put on a brave face, but the notion that emotions like anger, sadness, and fear are negative, is dangerous. Emotions are natural responses to our surroundings, data points if you will, that are there to help inform you about how you should react in any given situation. You are not your emotions. Susan David in this amazing book called "Emotional Agility" references Viktor Frankl, a psychiatrist who survived a Nazi death camp and then went on to write "Man's Search for Meaning". In it Frankl says that "between stimulus and response there is a space" and "in that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom."

Some may think to forgive is naïve and foolish and perhaps sometimes it can be, but we're all only human and we all can be impulsive and reckless and do things that don't always align with what we truly want. I think to forgive is brave optimism, a choice to always see the good and I refuse to let anything in this life turn me permanently bitter.

I felt so proud reading this knowing that even in the depths of that hurt I had moments of clarity and being able to see the big picture and that I truly didn't allow the experience to turn me bitter. I'm still the same hopeless romantic optimist that I was then, just had a lot of triggers to process and now move slower in relationships these days, but my belief that what I was after is out there hasn't really waned. In fact, that annoying voice that says I haven't gone through everything that I have to settle is what's making it difficult to feel settled in my now. I truly adore Champlain, and I want to let myself fall into it, but because the long term feels untouchable with him, I'm holding back. In four months I'll turn 32 and this idea of starting a family at 35 feels super close all of a sudden. I want the opportunity to have at least two years of marriage child free to create a strong foundation of what we look like without the stress of child rearing, to bank a bunch of memories to pull from when we need to and so when you do the math, that means getting married at 33. Sooooo yea, I feel like I'm running out of time. 

I think part of why Jane the Virgin was as triggering as it was is because part of that story echoed the day dream I once had where the man and I had a little boy together, just like Jane and Raf and that while Raf had love for Petra and of course cared most about being a good father to his twin daughters, he and Jane were meant to be, just like believed I was made for the man. There was definitely a time where I thought how perfect that would all be, be a part time mother figure for a few years and then when I was ready to have my world turned upside down, we'd have one of our own, and ideally a little boy and I would have my inner idea of a perfect family with three kids. Last weekend with my sister and after binging JTV, I finally grieved the part of me that had been so eager to be able love on these twin baby girls that I'd been watching grow up and had worried about from afar for almost their entire lives. It's wild to be sad about the loss of something that never existed, just only in your dreams. 

While a life with the man would not have been easy, I know that I was very capable of handling it with grace but I do try to take solace in the fact that I don't have to navigate something like that. I do have the true freedom of having a clean slate with someone and making our own family that doesn't have to ever be shared or part time, and for the most part these days I'm so happy for the man that he doesn't have to miss out on anything from his daughter's lives. 

Right now I'm telling myself I don't have to make any decisions until I'm vaccinated, but I'm still over thinking a bit about meeting Champlain's mother this weekend. I really want to be building towards a future with someone and I'm just not secure enough in this relationship for that to feel like that's what I'm doing.

The first and the last

I was just laying in bed trying to turn off my brain to get some sleep but I'm currently binging through Jane the Virgin and with all the convoluted love stories of people breaking up and coming back together, the man is on my mind.  The last few episodes were so focused on all the twists and turns and crazy things that had to happen to bring the characters to their nows. They even went back to the beginning for some of them. Just now I was realizing I vividly remember every first kiss we shared, but the last ones, not as much and I wonder if it's because every time I never knew it was the last one so I just wasn't paying enough attention for the memory to stick. But each of those firsts, there had been such a build up, I knew they were important.

I remember the first time we ever interacted in the hallway outside of the ladies room that I had just left and he acted like he didn't know who I was, even though he later told me he did. That apparently we both had noticed one another, recognized an instant attraction, and a strange pull and desire to know one another. 

Years later in the beginnings of my divorce and two short weeks, of inappropriate conversations and one on one walks, that felt like an eternity, he made that offer to drive me to the shore. That very first kiss in that boat on the beach with the steady crashing of the waves will probably forever be the best first kiss I've ever had. The combination of having wanted it to happen for years at that point, and then being teased with the potential for those weeks and knowing it wasn't allowed, just made it all the more tantalizing. I don't remember the last kiss... I know it must have been a quick peck as I left his place that Sunday morning before I would later confess to my sister my transgressions and then tell him that until he made a lasting decision and determined his marriage was not salvageable we needed to be over. I remember when he begged to talk in person, and we sat in my car, in the parking lot outside of the barnes and noble that haunts me to this day any time I visit that shopping center, and I asked if I could touch him as we both cried. Not even to kiss him even though I wanted to, but just to comfort him and he told me no and I felt my heart break just a little bit more. 

Two and half years later he would randomly text me one night after reaching out via the work communicator earlier that week, breaking a nearly six month span of zero contact, not even friendly chats around the office. He would tell me that he and his wife were separated and that he was getting a divorce and that he wanted to see me. We would meet up at a park and sit in my car and he would share the crazy that had been his life the last few weeks and then almost as if no time had passed I would find myself basically on his lap and fervently kissing him while also feeling his hesitation. Even so, he invited me over that night, and even though so much of me knew it was such a bad idea and I should have kept my distance, I had spent those years feeling almost nothing and it was intoxicating to feel so alive. Again I don't remember the last kiss just that it was probably a quick peck as he met me in my car on my birthday before I headed back to Pittsburgh when he told me he no longer thought coming out to visit me was a good idea. Four days later we would fight over text and it was clear he had not decided at all if he was really getting divorced and I told him he was a selfish asshole for reaching out to me and blocked him on my phone. I would spend the summer trying to forget the reunion had happened at all and did my best to immerse myself in my life out there with new friends and a cute boy who was infatuated with me. I tried to tell him everything was temporary... but it didn't matter. 

Shortly after spending a week home, the very day I finally had the guts to end things with the boy and stop using him as a crutch the man reached out with an email telling me he missed me and asking when we would see each other. I told him I didn't know but that I needed him to leave me alone. But it only took a sappy romance and a few glasses of wine for me to text him late one night not even two days later asking if he was still awake. During that conversation he would tell me he loved me for the first time in three years. A little over a week later we agreed to meet up. I remember sitting on Buddha's couch, stalling to meet him, nervous as fuck knowing I was opening the door again to someone who had the power to pulverize my heart. I went anyways, and after walking around the park and chatting and catching up and recognizing that the timing was still shit, we stood by our cars and I mustered up the courage to ask him if he meant what he said, if he still loved me. He told me he did and asked if he could kiss me. It was soft, and sweet, and tentative and the desire for more was difficult to dampen. We parted ways with the idea that we would try friendship but we failed at that. Yet again, I don't remember the last kiss because I don't think we did when I walked into his office on his birthday after finding out he had been there for a while and he hadn't told me and his expression just looked guilty and so I just sat in the seat across from him. We then proceeded to have the most heart breaking conversation of my life, and then I followed it up with awkwardly giving the man who had just broken up with me,  the cheesy gift I made to help replenish his buckets of alone time, quality time together, and time outside the relationship. I know I went over the top with it, but at the time I felt so helpless in being able to ease the burdens of his life and everything that was going on...I know we eventually hugged and accidentally spilled my mocha mint iced coffee everywhere, but I don't remember a kiss and I don't actually remember the last time we had seen each other before that...I know the last time I ever spent a night next to him was the night of the holiday party a week prior.

It would be a long ten months before we'd be alone together again. After two months of going back and forth about possibly meeting up, on the third time we made plans, I didn't bail. I wore a dress, put my hair up, and couldn't believe I was surprised by how immediately the desire to kiss him returned as soon as I opened my door to greet him. We awkwardly hugged and I ran back up to get my purse and we walked to the bar. We didn't eat, I'm not sure my nerves would have allowed me to if we had...just drinks, and we chatted about whatever, I no longer remember, I just remember making him laugh and seeing him smile. It had been almost six months since I left the firm and it was just so nice to see him. We closed the tab and walked back to my place and up the stairs and I gave a "tour" of the two rooms and could feel myself rambling trying to calm my nerves because I had no idea how things were going to progress and then all of a sudden he practically lunged towards me, grabbed my face in his hands and kissed me hard. It was easy after that, like always, it felt like no time had passed. I had expected him to stay the night, but the time went quickly and I remember standing on my stoop almost near eye level for once with me saying I wish it didn't have to end and him saying it didn't and me saying you know this is it. But of course it wasn't, but over those next four months, he never would spend the night. As with all the other times, I don't remember the last kiss...I know it had to have been that afternoon delight a few days before things imploded, but it had been a quick encounter, I don't even remember getting a decent view of his face. We made genuine lunch plans for the next day, but he had to runoff after forgetting a prior engagement, and I just sat there eating my food. I didn't even hug him, and I never would again. I would beat myself up about that for years to come.

A few months later I would see him briefly across a crowded bar, slowly working up the courage to interact, and had brought a sketch of the tattoo I was currently planning as an ice breaker, because I will forever be an overthinker. By the time I had the nerve to ask a mutual friend if they had seen him recently, they told me he had left. I would reach out saying as much, but the conversation was like pulling teeth. I had no idea he was already trying again with his wife. I wouldn't figure that out until over a month later after seeing him in person for the last time but never interacting. It's been over a year and a half since then, and over a year since the last time he communicated with me, and that was just to avoid one another at a social event. The last time I reached out was last May after an internet stalking session informed me of the passing of his grandmother and I was feeling nostalgic as I was packing up my life to move to yet another state. He never acknowledged and the finality of us being strangers finally sank in. 

For so long I was so convinced that it was real and genuine and that I had been made to love him. That everything in my life that I had endured had prepared me to be capable of being what he needed and in return I finally had someone I was completely sure about. It was the best feeling to have zero doubts. I had fears and worries, but no doubts that he was what I wanted. 

The voice that says I was just a vacation home for his penis, a band aid for his ego, and a free therapist for his problems, grew pretty loud. I don't hear it so often these days, thankfully the heavy sadness that once tainted everything is no longer this ever present thing. Instead it pops in every now and then, some triggers I can anticipate, others catch me off guard. Right now it makes me sad how hard it is to believe it was ever love, because I genuinely never wanted to reach that place, but alas, here we are. So much of me wonders how the man frames these memories in his life story and if I ever was anything other than a mistake. 

The time will come...

I should already be in bed, but I'm waiting for midnight Denver time, Buddha has had a hell of year and I want to call and leave a message right as she enters a new year of life and on the day of a new moon no less. She deserves a fresh start. But while I wait for that it's probably worth while trying to think through what is going on. I've been thinking more about the man lately and I haven't a clue why. Like I knew I would around his birthday, but why is it lingering? Why do I feel myself wanting him to reach out? I really don't understand. I decided to do some social media canvassing and discovered tonight one of his best friends is finally dating someone seriously enough to be featured in the profile picture and I was genuinely excited for this person I met once and had only one other long conversation via instagram with. I truly wanted to know all the people in his life that were important to him and I wanted to know him through their eyes, if that makes sense. 

Champlain doesn't have any life long friends like that, the one he did turned into a conspiracy nut while they were in college and he no longer keeps in touch, but last weekend I did meet a bunch of his climbing friends at an outdoor bonfire. It was truly a fun and enjoyable night and I feel like I could really form my own friendships with some of these people, but then I found myself wondering what was the point. This isn't my forever, it's just right now, why invest in something that won't go anywhere and now I'm in a weird funk about everything. I'm starting to have these thought loops of what is the point, has my life improved with the addition of him? If I take away the sex, what is left? I'm struggling to answer that...we've been talking a lot lately about his finances and such and while what someone makes is not important to me, I did start to wonder if he would just be someone I felt like had to take care of or compensate for...especially when we've started talking about traveling when it's safe to do so and that's not a cheap hobby. He's my main source of human contact right now, and we do enjoy each other's company for sure and have similar senses of humor and he's teaching me about gaming and he's helpful with making dinner and cleaning up after, but he has WRECKED all the progress I made in having a bed time and routine. I literally have not managed to stick with it for more than a day or two since we started dating. He's a night owl worse than me and it just hasn't been good. But mostly I find myself wondering if it means anything at all that I don't get excited to see him the way I once did to see the man...I definitely was excited to see Champlain after my trip to South Dakota, and for a long time hangouts with the man were just so irregular and so many timespans of months apart...Yet I remember times when we were on and still working together and I would literally see him everyday and interact a decent amount through out the day and yet I would still get these crazy excited butterflies when I had plans with him. I miss that feeling, I miss being that into someone. I really thought the world of him and meant it when I told him he was my favorite. 

Maybe as Champlain and I move further along and I actually fall in love with him, it will change, or maybe because I know there's no future, it will never get there.  I was so tired of being alone and feeling like I wasn't anyone's top priority but this nagging thought that I haven't found what I'm looking for and there's more effort ahead of me to actually find it won't shut up. I want so badly to have someone to love and do kind and considerate things for... I bought him a bunch of stuff for valentines and his birthday and it's probably too much, but they're mostly things he needs and I wanted to and I care about him a lot, but I am definitely feeling myself holding back because it can't be forever, I don't get to fully relax because I know "my search" isn't over.

I know that's part of why I held on to the man for as long as I did, I got wrapped up in that feeling of surety that he was everything I had ever hoped to find in a partner and there was no point to look elsewhere, I just needed to figure out how to make it work. Perhaps a part of me is still too stubborn to admit I was wrong. I really thought I knew him, and I really believed it to be love, but can you actually love someone who never really let you in? Sometimes I find myself revisiting his words when he told me he was sorry for everything, that he knew things didn't work out how I had hoped, but that he had always loved me and had never meant to hurt me. On bad days I used to search through our gchat history just reread that exchange, it's burned into my memory now. It's good I deleted all of it, it truly has made a difference that when I do miss him, I really can't dive back into all the memories the way I used to. 

Perhaps I'm focusing on the man because he's still my benchmark of what I want, but in reality that's so not true. I don't want an indecisive, deceptive, selfish and ambivalent partner. I want someone with convictions and determination that knows they want me in their life and doesn't take me for granted and thinks they're lucky to have met me and to be loved by me. I would choose that over the messed up always an almost without a doubt. I know Champlain feels lucky to have me in his life and doesn't take me for granted and aside from the kids conversation, does see longterm and right now that's enough. I'm allowed to revel in the happy of now, even if it's not forever and I've never been one to be ok with being partially in, so if this is my life right now, and he's who I'm choosing to give my energy to, then that's what I've decided to be all in on and I should go for it. The time will come when it cannot progress further, I don't have to preemptively make that happen, not when there's so many other memories I'd like to make with him.