Watching Clouds

My ex spent most of our marriage complaining about being away from family. Yet when she left me, she stayed here. While I avoided going to her part of town and thus saw her only once in nearly four years, I’ll admit her continued presence was a small thorn in my recovery. While I felt fully moved on and rarely thought about her, I’ve been holding on to some resentment that she was still here.

This week I saw in an Instagram post from her place of business that she was headed back to Australia. Leaving the US for good. Yet my reaction surprised me; I thought I’d be doing cartwheels when this finally happened — she’s gone! I’m free! Yet here I am still feeling a bit somber a few days after learning the news. Why?

Is her departure simply dredging up old feelings of abandonment? Am I disappointed that she’ll now never see how well I’m doing, how I landed on my feet? How I’ve evolved and grown? Did I hope to be friends and have her back in my life in the future? Did I harbor some secret, subconscious hope that we would reunite? Was I using her continued presence as a crutch? Enjoying giving people the recommendation to go to her café for brunch but to “watch out for my ex, the tall Aussie” as a means of sharing a piece of myself? Or perhaps I’m just projecting my current general loneliness and frustrations with dating onto the last real relationship I had. I’ve been all up in my feels these days in general, have I simply added this to the mix?

Or, likely, bits and pieces of all of the above. It’s hard to tell. Emotions are complex. Making sense of the past is hard. But here I sit on a sunny summer Saturday on my back deck. Drinking iced coffee in the shade, listening to Corridor of Dreams by the Cleaners from Venus. Watching the clouds roll by in the blue sky and thinking about what was and what will not be.

—

I read a line in an essay recently that shook me. It was about appreciating beauty in the world. Reading this, it hit me that that’s one of the ways my worldview has shifted these last handful of years in my new single life. To notice the beautiful, the small treasures in life. The tiny flower by the side of the trail. The back side of the sunset. The friend who laughs with you. The emotions and feelings inside of you. Appreciate it, always. It’s all we have. This is how I have been viewing and interacting with the world. It’s not how I’ve always been. And I have her to thank for instilling this in me.

“One of the finest things we human beings ever do is to see the beautiful and keep it in our hearts”

Fin

I Saw Her

I saw her tonight for the first time since we divorced. Since she left our apartment through the back door over two years ago, in November in the rain. Papers signed, sealed and delivered. Final speeches made, final hugs given. I remember that night was even harder than the night she told me it was over.

I went to an event tonight knowing she might show up. It was a fundraiser for charity put on by my club, but for a cause that is more meaningful to her than to me. I had planned to leave after my shift was up, knowing she’d still be at work at that point and if she came it wouldn’t be until later. But I stayed. I’m not sure why. Maybe because it was time. Most likely just because I was having fun.

But in she walked, right around when I thought she might. My heart pounded. The bottom of my stomach fell out. I kind of hid in my booth to avoid making eye contact. I’d steal glances from time to time. She appeared the same, but with bangs. She walked past to get to the bathrooms and I steeled myself for eye contact but it didn’t come. She was avoiding me too…  The situation stabilized, my heart calmed down.

The rest of the night we stayed in our respective circles, and things were ok. I had to pass by her to go out back and went out of my way to say hi. “Hello” she said, in her accent that used to make me melt. I survived. Thought that was that and felt pretty good about it.

At the end of the night I was picking up the rest of the raffle prizes and she caught me. She came up and wanted to have a chat. It was weird. How strange to stand face to face with someone who you used to know (still know?) like the back of your hand, someone who was almost literally a part of you, and feel distance. A gulf between you, a gap. Awkwardness. Nearly like a stranger. A stranger who used to be you. Really weird.

We tripped over our words. “This is very odd.” “Extremely surreal.” “I thought about not coming.” “I don’t blame you, it’s for a good cause.” We commiserated a bit over the decision to come or not come. It was clear she was struggling as much as I was. Did I see tears? Eventually, “it’s nice to see you” she said, “I don’t know how you’ve been or how you’re doing, and I don’t need to know. But you looked you were laughing and having a good time. I’m glad to see you smiling.” I didn’t really know what to say after that and so I told her as much; something about “thank you for saying that. I’m not really sure what I want to say now, so maybe we leave it at that” and then I gracefully bowed out.

This was the conversation I had thought about for two years. At times in the past I thought that if we met I would break down and melt into a puddle. Other times I thought if we were to meet I would let her have a piece of mind, get angry and yell. Additional scenarios previously pondered included giving the cold shoulder, or talking to her but demonstrating just how great and well and wonderful I was without her. But none of that happened, really. We were just two adults, two old friends forced apart who happened to bump into each other. Cordial. Tentative. Respectful. I guess that’s a good thing. Was there more I wanted to say? More I should have said? A particular way I wanted her to feel? I don’t know. I still don’t know how I feel or how I want to feel. But I survived.

And I didn’t even think to hug her. That distance, man. Weird.

Anger Dump

Recently I told my therapist I have been struggling with de-coupling the past from my overall positive present. I want to put the past to bed; label it, stick it on the shelf of past experiences… but not exactly sure how. I’m struggling with this “labeling”. After some digging on her end, she discovered I still haven’t fully explored all the feelings from the split. Specifically: anger. I had no trouble recounting the events of the split and describing the sadness I felt. However, when she asked if was angry I struggled. While my answer was an easy “yes”, it was really hard to enunciate/expand on the anger. Upon reflection, my guess is that anger implies an acceptance of a mistake; an understanding that the relationship wasn’t right, and that I was complicit in some way (deciding to be together, pursuing in the first place, something like that). Regardless, she suggested I explore the anger a bit… to vent in some way. So, I bring you: the Anger Dump.

She let me down. She was not perfect for me. I poured my heart and soul into her and she told me it was not enough. That’s bullshit, man. I gave everything I knew how to give and she wanted more. With time, I could have given even more… but I was not given the chance.

I invested so much in her. Time. Money. Energy. Despite this, she walked. Even when she was telling me I wasn’t enough, I told her I would work on myself, I would try to be even better if only she would engage with me in therapy. I would do anything. It’s pretty debasing, in hindsight, and that’s pretty shitty.

She was constantly down. She had hopes and dreams that she wasn’t equipped to pursue. The inevitable failures upset her. The failures were inevitable only in that she didn’t try very hard, didn’t pursue in-depth. She half-assed everything and then would cry when it didn’t work out in her favor. As her loyal cheerleader, I would be there to catch her on the way down. I expended so much emotional energy boosting her back up, and then helping her come to a solution… solutions that were *never* followed up on.

Case in point (how to choose just one?):

Dance — she was a trained dancer. She wanted to be a professional dancer. To do pursue this career, you have to go through a grueling audition process. It helps to have connections, which requires endless networking. It’s a lot like trying to become an actor, which we all know takes years. She would lament the fact that she wasn’t succeeding as a dancer, while not putting in much time to pursue it. She would settle on an audition she wanted to do, then “cram” dance classes for the 2-3 weeks before it. Inevitably, she wouldn’t get a gig because she hadn’t been training year round like her competitors. Cue tears. Cue world is ending. Cue me consoling. Cue me lifting up. Rinse, repeat ad nauseam. Want me to put you in touch with my friend’s partner who works with like 30 dance groups in Chicago and has offered to put you in touch? Yes? Ok! Have you followed up with her yet? No? Ok, I’ll stop asking.

Art/stationary — she had talent as an artist. She wanted to make something of it. She liked the wedding industry. Settled on a wedding invitation “business” (spoiler alert — the business never eventuated). Spent weeks and weeks planning her move — endless conversations with me about what it would be. Step 1: start an Instagram page! Ok so how is this going to lead to your career? It will build your portfolio and then you plan to reach out friends offering your services? Great! Months later: hey, your page is looking really great, how are you feeling about it? Do you think it’s time to reach out to some friends? No? Ok, I’ll stop asking.

Yoga — now you’re interested in yoga? Great! What are your plans? You want to become a teacher? Great, here’s thousands of dollars for a yoga teacher training course. You want to practice on your free time? Sure, I’ll volunteer for that in my own free time! You want me to go to your trial class at the studio? Couldn’t be happier to do so! Congrats on graduating! What’s next? Cool, networking at other studios and putting up fliers for yoga in the park sounds like a great idea! Hey, how’s the networking and fliers going? Oh, haven’t started yet? Ok, I’ll stop asking.

Cue endless self-doubt. Cue anger at me for trying to help. Cue tears. Cue consoling.

Rinse.

Repeat.

Fuck

that

shit.

Not sure exactly where I will go from here but for now I’ll just see how it feels accepting and acknowledging the anger and her genera shittiness in this regard and see how I feel moving forward. At the least, it’s been helpful to realize that in my next partner I am looking for confidence and competence.

The End v2

It’s been one full trip around the sun
Since I started this humble blog.
Another trip has now begun,
And this time with far less fog.

Now that more than a year has gone by,
I no longer ask myself why.
No more wondering what could have been,
or taking my sadness out for another spin.

17 months after the fact,
The past doesn’t have me trapped.
I boldly embrace the future,
With all of my wounds sutured.

It’s strange to say but I’m happier now than before
And if she came back I wouldn’t accept an encore.
In fact, she no longer even crosses my mind
And in other endeavors, satisfaction I find.

2018 was a huge year.
Personal growth, confronting fear.
Embracing many a new experience.
And anything I find curious.

I’m running out of words
To express just how profoundly different I feel.
Just like a chick growing into a bird,
I have spread my wings and discovered that the sky is real.

—–
Day… who cares!

I’m in a Rut

I am functional and focused on moving on. I am doing all the right things; I’m focused on me and working to develop friendships and hobbies. I’m putting thought into who I am and who I want to be. For the most part I’m enjoying life and the newfound sense of freedom. I’m definitely on the road to recovery.

But at the same time, I’m in a rut. I come home from hanging out with friends and I’m lonely. I see other friends having fun on social media without me and I get depressed; why didn’t they think of me (although I didn’t text them either)? I have dreams where my ex comes back to me and in the dream, I’m happy. These dreams worm their way into my brain as seeds of hope for us. This woman dashed my hopes and dreams, rejected my love and commitment, and yet there is a piece of my brain that holds on to her. That assumes we’re just on a break and she’ll be coming back. It simmers under the surface, bubbles to the top when my mind is blank or I’m day dreaming.

Having these feelings makes me exasperated… makes me feel like I’m not moving on fast enough. There is no logical reason to hold out any hope for her after what she did, but it’s still there deep down inside despite my best efforts. I assume it will go away with time, but I don’t like it.

Day 200
(wow)

The Anger Stage

I supported you financially for five years. I paid all all rent, all bills, and a decidedly large chunk of your classes and courses. I worked full time, you part time and then only occasionally because getting your dream careers started took time. You sometimes contributed for groceries but then would get upset about not having any money and I would reassure you that I could cover them, that you should save. I worked continuously so you could pursue your passions.
–You said you needed someone more generous at heart.

Fuck you.

I supported you emotionally when all your schemes and projects failed. I invested all of my emotional energies into being your shoulder to cry on, and your therapist. I spent countless hours consoling you and doing my best to help you gain confidence and meaning. I stayed up late, got up early, did everything I could to help you feel good. I wanted to pull my hair out at times but more than anything I wanted you to be happy.
–You said you needed someone more kind.

Fuck you.

We got into fights in the early days because our personalities were so different and we dealt with conflict in different ways. But over the years I changed my entire worldview, my inner personality, and my outlook on life to better understand you and be aligned with you.
–You said you needed someone who was more like you.

Fuck you.

When you started doubting us, I asked you about our wedding vows. I asked how you could have stood before me and your family and read wedding vows, since you were claiming to have never felt 100% sure of us. Didn’t you take those seriously? I did!
–You said, “to be honest I don’t think I really believed the vows myself at the time”.

Fuck you.

We were in love for five years. You were my everything. Bringing you joy and happiness was my #1 goal, and became my chief hobby. I lost myself in you. I gave you everything I had and still had more to give if only I was given the chance.
–You gave up on us three weeks after first telling me you were having doubts. You didn’t do me the courtesy of even trying; you never got around to scheduling that couples therapy appointment…

The last time we saw each other, to sign the divorce papers, I had prepared some things to say. I knew this was the ultimate moment, the climax of all our time together, of our entire shared life, and that we would never see each other again. I wanted to make sure I expressed to you what you had meant to me, what you were leaving behind, and how what you were doing made me feel. I knew if I didn’t think things through ahead of time and write them down, I would fail to speak clearly and regret it. Reading these final words to you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life, and by far the saddest.
–While I sobbed through the words you also cried softly, but you said nothing. After ending our five year relationship you had nothing to say. You came prepared with nothing to tell me, no closure to offer. You told me you’d write me a letter, that would explain everything and give me more information on the decision you made. You said you’d write my parents one too. Six months later the only thing that’s been written is this blog, by me.

You’re a shitty person. It’s too bad I have so many fond memories with you, because I am becoming decidedly less fond OF you.

Fuck you Annabelle.

Day 179

On Dating: When is it Time?

When is time to start dating? What is the temporal milestone that should be passed after a heart-breaking split? What is the emotional waypoint in your recovery that should first be reached? There is so much that can go wrong with dating if you’re not ready… things like inauthentically falling in love with the first person who likes you back, not being emotionally available to someone who develops feelings for you, being TOO emotional with someone who doesn’t really care, etc

Knowing when it’s time, and if I’m ready, is something I’m struggling with lately. I have learned from my past relationship that I enjoy life best when sharing it with someone else. I want to have a partner again to share life with; the rushes of excitement, the mundane details… the highs, the lows, the good the bad. But at the same time I don’t know if I’m ready yet. I don’t find myself attracted to many women right now, and I can’t imagine being intimate with anyone. It’s not out of any lingering attachment to my ex–that ship has thoroughly sailed–but there’s something holding me back, telling me it’s not time yet. I don’t really even know what I’m looking for, or how to know when I find it!

But I worry that it’s simply the overwhelming newness of dating, the unknown of it, rather than a legitimate emotional reason. After all, even though I am now 31 I haven’t ever really dated as an adult. I wonder if I’m holding back just because of the “unknown” factor, and I’m missing out on chances at finding someone as a result.

But at the same time dating just seems like a lot of… work. Lots of effort and energy put into a process that isn’t guaranteed to return a result. And at the moment I’ve gotten to a place where I’m finally starting to enjoy life a bit; nurturing some friendships, developing some hobbies. Why rush back in?

To date or not to date, this is the question and this is where I need your help. When did you start dating again after your bad break up, and how did it go?
What advice do you have for me, oh all-knowing blogosphere?

Day 166

Sunday Musings

What is happiness without sadness?

What is joy without pain?

What is success without failure?

What is day without night?

What is a really tasty, freshly glazed donut straight from the fryer without the prepackaged, stale, powdered sugar kind?

None of the former can be appreciated without an experience of the former. You gotta have experienced the bad to recognize the good, and to know what it is that makes the good worth enjoying.

What is my future life and relationship without this current period of sadness and change?

---

A quote from Netflix documentary Last Chance U in which Blues musician Jimmy “Duck” Holmes talks about the gradual decline of the town of Clarksdale, MS:

It is what it is, man.
And that’s LIFE, period: it IS what it is.
And once you get past it, it was what it was… but now it is what it is.

I think you have to watch the episode for the full gravity and context of the statement. I’m not sure what it means to me specifically, but it struck a chord. I think it has to do with an acceptance of life, of the things that have happened and the way things are… one day those things won’t matter anymore, but now they do matter and that’s okay. But accept them. Acknowledge the things you can’t change. Roll with the punches. Deal with it. Rise, rinse & repeat.

Day 143.

Moving on is a Bitch Pt 2

Expanding on yesterday’s poem, I’ve hit a snag in my recovery.

Things had been going pretty well, I was going weeks at a time without crying and I was excited about the future. It seemed that the past was in the past and there was nothing but a blue-skied future ahead. However, the past few weeks have seen a reversion back into melancholy and sadness. Memories of her and times we shared together are bubbling to the surface with their old regularity, accompanied by daily watery eyes.

I was shocked to catch myself thinking if she came back, I would accept her and still love her. That’s crazy talk! We’re DIVORCED… she ain’t coming back and I know it.

What happened? Have I gone backwards?

In the immediate aftermath of the split, there was nothing but pain, loss, confusion… the raw emotions the come from from having your partner of many years, the object of your devotion, suddenly end things. Every little thing was a trigger for sadness and I couldn’t even keep it together through the morning bike commute to work.

Then, after a few weeks, the pain morphed into action. There were divorce steps to organize, a project to work on. Grocery shopping and weekly dinners were something to figure out, another challenge. All the chores we used to split, like laundry, were now back on my plate and had to be slotted in. Everything old became new again; fresh challenges were tackled, new routines and habits were figured out, new freedoms were discovered. I spent time thinking about who I am, what makes me me, and what I’ll look for in my future partner. The silver lining started to materialize. Looking back, this was around when I wrote Movement.

That period took me into the holidays, which despite some trepidation about being alone for this festive time, were a welcome distraction. I was lucky enough to spend two weeks back in the midwest over both Thanksgiving and Christmas/New Years. Being removed from Portland, back in familiar surroundings with family and friends, was enjoyable and for the most part made me feel happy and supported.

This momentum continued on through my return to home in January. I even returned to the therapist, not to get help moving on but to talk through my desire to start dating and how to approach it. But then, a few weeks ago, I found myself back in the sad state of mind. The sheen of my new life suddenly wore off: I am alone. Reality has set in… all the time, the years, spent getting to know her have been for naught. Finding someone new will be just as long of a journey, not something that will happen overnight. I desire a life partner, but it will take years to get there with someone. In other words, I’m going to be alone for a long time. This dose of reality is what brought me back to Earth, and likely is what has my brain serving up fond memories of the past, wishfully hoping I’ll make some attempt to regain that past relationship.

I know I’m going to be okay. I know I just need to keep continuing forward and this pain will subside, that this is just a phase. But I’ll be damned if it doesn’t suck any less than it did on day 1.

Day 121

Moving on is a Bitch Pt. 1

Hello sadness my old friend
Didn’t think I’d see you again.
I was doing so well,
Focusing on me and my new life was quite swell.
Thought I had left her in the past
But I guess no one moves on that fast.
Now I’m seeing her nightly when I’m sleeping
And waking up feeling like weeping.
Our memories constantly boil to the surface of my mind
As I realize a new partner will be so hard to find.
I think I can find someone better
But for now, to our legacy I am still fettered.

So I’ll keep on living.
Knowing that one day this sadness, I’ll be able to ditch.
But in the meantime I have learned one thing:
Moving on is a bitch.

Day 120