2 year hiatus

Hello.

It's been almost 2 years since I last visited this blog, much less write in it.  I thought I had moved on and was too good for it. So, I actively ignore it despite the many times I would have benefitted from having this space for myself.

Last year, I moved to a big city for a year-long internship, where I experienced an entire year of diversity, night life, excitement, and constant stimulation. I imagined a life of active dating, romance, and I was certain, I was absolutely certain that I would be meeting the love of my life and living happily ever after. 

Boy, was I wrong.

I was miserable last year, yet I did not write in this journal or any other journal. I refused. I stubbornly believed that writing it meant accepting it, and I did not want to admit how disappointing, nay, how devastating the year turned out to be. I had been so positive that I would be done with heartache, sadness, and pain. I wanted nothing more than to move on from this blog and its topic. I needed to believe I had a healthier self and self-in-relationships.

Well, I partially succeeded because I put myself out there and dated a whole lot.
But I was also miserable almost all of the time.

Last year = roller coaster year of emotions. Partly, it was my unreal expectations. The other part was that the men I dated did not believe in anything other than immediate gratification.  Put those 2 together and it was instant heartache for me. INSTANT. CONSTANT. REPETITIVE.

The trouble with every one of those relationships was that I was leaving their city, and I had to believe I would meet the one who would change my life forever.  My one-year internship was just that: one year. I knew I would likely leave and re-locate elsewhere. I just didn't know how quickly the offer would come, and whether I would take it. When I received an offer to work in a community that is rural, less progressive, less exciting, and less desirable-- I was tortured. Love life or career life? Stay and pursue the unknown by following my heart or following what is reasonable, logical, realistic, and necessary for both financial survival as well as my own career plan. I secretly hoped I'd meet my knight in shining armor and he would tell me what to do. I wanted him to say stay! Because the truth is, I would have. If someone had asked me.

No one asked me. So, I wrote pros/cons lists. I consulted with friends, colleagues, mentors, teachers, advisers, therapists, and even fortune-tellers. I cried. A lot. I contemplated not making any decision altogether. In fact, I spent a lot of time under the comforter pretending reality did not exist. In the end, I decided to leave and take my current position. Goodbye city, hello village (OK, I exaggerate-- ruralville, not village). Still, it was one of the most challenging decisions of my life, and yet I knew that I had to pursue what is realistic and within my control.  My career is dependable and I understand it far more than any relationship or love life.

Well, once I knew I was leaving, the dating experience-- which was just starting-- began to plummet and spiral for the remainder of the year. Dating became anxiety-provoking. On date 1 or at least 2, I would have to tell them the truth. My personality called for this kind of openness and also the men I dated often wanted to know my future plans. Hearing the word "internship" naturally led them to question: what are you doing afterwards?  And upon hearing my news that I would be leaving, the blood would literally drain out of their faces while they tried to compose themselves to act polite, accepting, and open to the possibility of continuing to date me. No one wanted to date me after that, but still, I held on, clinging to the hope that one of them could be mr. right.

One guy strung me along all 7 months that we knew each other and broke my heart in small increments over his hot-and-cold attitude. Another guy insisted I was the love of his life and yet his behaviors never matched his words (e.g., inconsistent texts, last-minute cancelled dates, no time to see me-- ever). The last guy was a was so kind and warm that I mistook him for a friend. I (or we) missed the timing to be something more and when I eventually realized my feelings and poured my heart out to him, he no longer had those feelings for me and said we missed the boat.

Tears. I cried so many tears last year over 3 specific boys. In a city as large as the one I was in, I never felt as lonely as I did, or as insignificant to so many people.





And now? Having moved to this small rural community where I constantly feel an absence of diversity, city life, or anything remotely cool, I have met and am dating an amazing guy who makes my heart soar. (More on him, later, I promise!)

Isn't it ironic that when I moved here a few months ago, I had decided to give up on pursuing a love life, much being in one?

With my 2 year hiatus behind me, I am now wise enough to return to this blog to face myself honestly and admit that I was at my lowest point last year. I am finally willing to confront how last year was. I am now able to reflect on how painful that year was, and to want to learn from those experiences.

Despite the fear that arises from deep in my stomach, I'd also like to be honest about my current relationship and to sit with the anxieties that erupt out of me. This relationship is the healthiest relationship I have ever been in. It is so good that I am terrified. My stomach flips when I use the word "relationship" because prior experiences suggest that it will only go downhill.  Because of these instinctual reactions, I know that it's time to return to writing-- for me, for the collective us that feel these pains, for whoever can benefit from my inner angst. Whatever happens in these relationships-- good or bad, I challenge myself to myself to write again and to accept vulnerability again.

Welcome back, me.  It's time to dig deep again.

Oh, mother-child relationships

As I laid in bed this morning listening to the tree branches tapping wildly in my bedroom window because of the freak-crazy winds we are getting, I thought about Robert.  I recently heard this quote from a therapist about relationships, and have been thinking about it ever since: "The relationships we have with our mothers influences all of our subsequent relationships."

I suppose I knew this theory/perspective. But I hadn't applied to to Robert until this morning, when I suddenly remembered a conversation I had with his friend over Christmas break.  She had said that Robert complains quite a bit about living at home and taking care of his mom.  His friend had thought he was taking no responsibility for doing nothing with his life and using his mom as an excuse. Why is he pinning his frustrations on her when he can easily move out and and pursue life at full-force without attributing all this responsibility on her?

Now, I don't know if Robert has told his friends that his mom had been diagnosed with cancer.  He is so secretive that I wouldn't be surprised if he's hidden all of that. But I'd guess that if they knew about the cancer, they'd have some sympathy.  Judging from his friend's annoyance toward him, however, I'd say... they probably don't know.

Nevertheless, I started to think about Robert's relationship with me and whether he felt that same burden and annoyance when it comes to his relationship with his mom.  Was our relationship such a drag for him too? Did he feel like he had to do a lot of care-taking with me?

I love Robert for so many reasons, one of them being his love for his mom.  Leaving me to take care of his mom is actually the best excuse one could ever have, if someone were to dump me for another woman. But for him to gripe about the care-taking makes me wonder who he is, and what I know about him, if anything at all. Who is Robert, anyways? Why does he do what he does? How did/does he see me? And is his perception indicative of reality?

The greatest mystery of my life, sadly, is our break-up.  On my deathbed one day, I will wonder with defeat, "why? what happened?" in the same way I wonder about it today. I've considered Robert's reasons to be the reality, so if Robert says, "because you suck", then that would be the truth.  But what if Robert simply has his own issues and simply hates being responsible and committed to another person, entirely? Then am I to blame for our break-up? Do I still hold myself accountable, as though I could have changed our break-up?

My mind's a-reeling.

A little bit of inspiration

Sometimes I forget how far I come... especially compared to when I first started this blog.  That wasn't even a year ago, but I had been in such a deep hole at the time.  I had felt so mangled inside, so tortured, and in so much angst.

It was around last year this time that I realized nothing would work no matter how hard I was trying. I had absolutely no hope because being in the relationship was painful and leaving it felt equally painful.

My relationship with B. defeated me in ways I never imagined. Figuratively speaking, it brought me to my knees, and maybe even lower. I felt so broken from it and have been trying to heal, recover, and uncover myself once again.  Yes, I use the word "uncover" instead of "discover" because I believe the beautiful parts of me can emerge again.  They are in me. Somewhere. They're just waiting to be, well, uncovered.

That is the entire reason why I started this blog in the first place.

Unmet hopes

After leaving my hometown this week and returning to my adult world, I went to therapy.
I talked cried about this relationship haunting me and I tried to make sense of what was happening to me internally.

As I recounted the entry I wrote when Robert and I broke up, I realized that I never really let-him-go because I always expected he would come back one day to explain everything to me. To know the inner workings of my mind and heart, it's important to be honest about my expectations about Robert and me.  My fantasy/expectation had always been the following possible scenarios:

1) Robert finds me one day and comes to me to apologize.  He wants to say sorry for how things ended, and he is also incredibly regretful that we even broke up.  He offers a really good explanation that has to do with his incredulous love for me and wanting to protect me from whatever it is he couldn't tell me about before. For example, maybe he had cancer but he didn't want  to know because he knew I would have dropped everything to be with him and take care of him.  Because he didn't want me to give up my plans, he had to break up with me in a cold-hearted manner and disappear until he got better.  He has now realized that it was not the right thing to do and is so sorry to have done that to me.  Over the years, he has also matured and grown in a lot of ways. He realizes that life is unbearable without me and wishes we could try again.

2) I am living my life and having a good time when I unintentionally run-into Robert.  Hmm.  I suppose what happens subsequently is an exact copy-paste scenario from the scene above.  He apologizes. He is regretful.  He still loves me. He still wants me back. But what's different is that he's too embarrassed to have shown-up at my door to apologize.  Still, he has always wished for another chance with me but has been too shy/embarrassed to act on this impulse.  Nevertheless, he wishes for a reconciliation and is sorry for our breakup.

3) Like scenario 2, Robert and I run-into each other, perhaps at a large social event with a bunch of our mutual friends.  Because we're in such a large crowd, we are cordial to each other and I am not overtly emotional or shocked.  I play-it-off very well and appear cool, calm, collected.  We hang out as a group and as the group dwindles, I continue to remain very rational and level-headed.  I say that it's good to see him, that I hope he's doing well, and I ask about him and his family.  I say nothing about the past so that I can look like I don't care that much.  I press for no details and I am able to seem casual and light-hearted.  He realizes how cool I am and is surprised.  He sees how little pressure I place on him and is reminded of his love for me. If he wasn't already in love with me then, he will fall back in love with me and want to be together again!

Hmm.  Now that it's written out, these scenarios sound kind of embarrassing.  They all have the same ending. They're just different versions of how he and I would act prior to reconciling. In my heart of hearts, I have always waited for Robert to show-up one day and to offer me some sort of release and closure. Umm... And also an opportunity to be together again.  I have been so sure that it would happen one day.  I have been so sure that I have been in waiting-mode for the past 7 years, just passively awaiting the day he comes.  All because I have been so sure that he will inevitably come.

But he hasn't come.  And I'm just now starting to realize that he may never come.  When I started dating a few years ago, I did it to spite Robert in my head.  I did it so that I can tell him (in my head) that I am capable of dating other people, and to threaten that I can be with someone else if he doesn't show up soon.  I didn't want to be with anyone else, much less even go on a date with somebody that wasn't him. But I did it so that I wouldn't always be in Robert's shadow.  I did it so that I could also tell myself that I can make comparisons because I don't know anything else beyond him.

Heck, the only reason I even had sex with someone else was so that I can say "Ha! Look! Robert isn't the only person I've been with now! I am capable of doing this with someone else!  Also, with someone else in the picture, my feelings for Robert will surely lessen so that it isn't so intense anymore!"

My approach completely back-fired though because I then started dating non-stop until.... now.  And now, I am dealing with multiple griefs because in truth, I never let Robert go. And because every relationship has been about him in some way, shape, or form.

How unhealthy that is.