Re-creating closure

I've been feeling crazy lonely these days, which is strange because up until recently, I was enjoying my alone-ness and feeling empowered about being happily alone.

The more lonely I've been feeling, the more vulnerable I've felt.  And the more vulnerable I am, the more I've resorted to thinking about Robert.  Which makes me wonder... which came first: the chicken or the egg?

For me, does vulnerability come first and then my thoughts about breakups? Or do I think about breakups first and then feel vulnerable afterwards?

I spent the past few nights crying about Robert.  Why? No reason. No reason, whatsoever.

It all started when my mom brought up Robert in our phone conversation the other day. She casually mentioned that we were actually quite similar and that she is just as perplexed about him as I am. I was shell-shocked because for so many years, she's always said we were ridiculously opposites of one another and it could have never ever worked.

As she talked, I started to get emotional, wondering about all the should haves, would haves, could haves.  I cried and cried when I went to bed that night, feeling haunted by our relationship, and feeling broken-hearted about how we ended.  At the very least, why aren't we friends? At the very least, why couldn't be at least amiable to each other?

For 3 nights in-a-row, I cried and cried about Robert and had imaginary conversations with him about our breakup. I imagined shaking him and asking the Robert I used to know to come back so that I can have just one more conversation with him.  I remember when I saw Robert a few years ago, I couldn't connect with him and starting into his eyes was like looking into the eyes of a stranger.  It was heartbreaking, as if a different soul possessed his body altogether.

I just need to say goodbye to him.  That's what I need.  Because Robert and I ended so strangely, so abruptly, I think I have no closure from him, no matter how hard I have tried to create it by myself. So I laid in bed the other night telling him goodbye and telling him that he was so meaningful in my life, and  that he continues to play such an important part in my sense of identity and my feelings of self-worth as a person. I cried as though we were just breaking up and I fell asleep surrounded by kleenexes, kleenexes, and more kleenexes.

In the light of day, however, I couldn't understand why I had been so devastated the night before. What happened? What happens to me at night?

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.