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?

Loneliness

I have been feeling somewhat lonely these days.

There are (too) many engagements happening around me.
Many babies being born.
Several weddings taking place.

In short, many people are starting their families. Starting and/or expanding.

As I revel in their joy, I can't help but feel very alone and very lonely.
No, I do not want to talk on the phone.  I have nothing to say.
I do not want to eat-out and catch-up because there is nothing to update.
I don't know what I want. I just feel very unique... in a bad way.

It's like I can't relate to anybody these days.

When I have moments like this, I can't help but wonder: Will love find a way? Will love find me and my way?

Advice to my 14-year old self...

If there was something I could tell the 14-year-old me, it would be this:

Live your life without waiting for someone else.


I have put my life on-hold whenever a potential lover comes into my life. I stop, drop, and endorse a new identity for him... whoever he is.  No matter how great my life is beforehand, no matter how wonderfully I'm doing beforehand, I will change tracks for my romantic partner because I don't want to miss-out on him and lose him, altogether.

So, I make myself available to them so they don't forget about me/ forget about my presence.  I don't have one specific example in mind, but I have many many experiences of changing my path (literally my walking path) so that I can run-into that person to refresh myself in their memory.  I will change my schedule to adapt to his. I will maneuver my life to fit into his. I will wear the clothes that he likes to fit into his idea of a fantasy woman. I have done so much shape-shifting, partly motivated from my desire to please others; the other reason being my fear that if I don't work very very hard to fit him, then I will miss out on the most glorifying thing that I could ever happen in my life: being loved and finding the person that will love me forever.

So, now more than a decade later, I want to tell my 14-year-old self that it's not necessarily to put in so much damn work.


It shouldn't be that hard.  If it's meant to be, then it will be.  If it's not meant to be, then it will be... later. Did you hear what I said? Later, not never.  As a teenager, everything feels absolute: "If I don't ___, then I will never ___.  Listen, missy, there's no such thing as never. It's not the end if you don't adapt yourself to him. Your life journey will not be over, your identity will not be gone, and you will not shrivel up and die. The only thing you can ever lose is your identity, and you will lose that when you try so hard to fit yourself into someone else's life. 

You do not have to live for someone else, or be something different for another person.  If you did, then that's not the right person.  And if you did, then you no longer are a healthy person anymore, either. The right person will come along when you are ready and when he is ready.  You will not have to change so much of yourself or your life for him. You will do not have to work so hard for him.  You should never have to lose yourself for him or for someone else.  Just live your life honestly and authentically and good things will happen.  You may not be in as many relationships over the years, but I guarantee that you will be happier in the short- and long- run.

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.