Self-destruction

My oh my was I right that I was going to pay for that. Got myself a little happy - and by happy, I mean the comfort and intimacy of a man. A very specific man to whom I am incredibly attracted and could have fallen for.

Amazing. Beautiful. Sexy. Incredible.Tender. Poetic. Passionate. Addictive. Raw. Magnetic. 

But I digress.

I have decided to accept these escapades for what they were - though once upon a time, it seemed that by the time we got to this point it would be much, much more. But what they were was a beautiful, comforting and glorious journey through a difficult time in my life. He provided strength, comfort, confidence and sweetness in a way that I never expected. And then took it all away.

It's not that simple or cut and dried, I suppose. I'm sure I've been no walk in the park. But until this last episode - at least to my knowledge - there had been no lies. And that ridiculousness? That's where I draw the line. You don't get to play with my heart, my emotions or my body.

Though I definitively would love to actually have a relationship with this man, it's clear that isn't going to happen. And I've come to terms with that. I would have even been content to continue an intense and intimate friendship with this man had it not been for the apparent lies regarding his whereabouts upon his departure from my hotel room.

Should I be angry with him about this? That I drove more than 500 miles (at his request) to spend an evening with him? That he spent less than four hours with me before he left and went to hang out with his friends (or so it appears). Should I be upset that he didn't have the decency to spend the night with me or return to me in the morning? I suppose I was hurt. It's not as if he doesn't know the depth of my feelings for him. Thus, I was also offended. And I was angry. But not angry in the way that you probably think.

I was angry at myself. For being foolish enough to put myself in that situation. Weak, I tell you. Weak because I adore this man. Weak because I wanted to feel - and wasn't ready to give up - the intense and passionate physical connection that we shared. And then simply angry with myself for being willing to settle for physical pleasure when what I really wanted and deserve is the emotional and personal connection - an actual relationship. Angry for allowing this man to have all of the benefits of being my boyfriend, but none of the expectations and responsibility.

But the anger was all directed inwardly. He didn't let that happen, I did. And it is only my actions over which I have any control. We teach people how to treat us - and I allowed this all to happen. I let him get away with it. Am I letting him off the hook entirely? No, I'm not. There is fault there as well. However, it is true that the only change I can effect is over my own behavior.

But damn it, guess what? I am pretty amazing. Don't believe me? I'll be happy to tell you all about it. I'm a beautiful, brilliant, strong and funny lady with a big and generous heart. And though I keep letting myself get hurt, I firmly believe that God put me on this planet to improve the lives of others and to do good work. Shutting myself off to people and experiences will not allow me to do either. So I'm not angry with me anymore. I'm learning and moving on from this one, too.

I will let the music heal me.
I will protect myself better.
I will demonstrate self-respect.
And I will not settle.

Effective immediately, this exercise in self-destruction doth endeth.

Work to do

I've got lots of work to do. I've regressed a bit; preferring to lie in bed and watch my favorite show on DVD. It's day 17 and I'm on season six. Kind of sad, I suppose, but it's working wonders.

And at the same time, I'm not quite in the mood for the holiday spirit. Or at least, I wasn't, until I made a plan to get myself a little happy. Probably not the healthiest thing I've ever done, but alas, it works for me.

But for this? I'm sure I'm going to pay.

Upward spiral

I have a confession to make. My poor sensitive heart has been on a downward spiral for some time now and I've given up. I will no longer fight it. I'm letting it go.

But in the darkness I've found two things that are essential truths about heartbreak. Each one leaves, in its aftermath, a trail of music and scents. The melodies and fragrances trigger memories instantly; conversations, travel, laughter, pain, happiness, melancholy.... And in an instant, I'm transported to a different time, a different moment. One where the memories will swallow me whole and trap me under the ice of a frozen lake, such that I'm desperate to break free and breathe again.

The pain is mostly for the moments I have lost - the joy of which I will never hold again. The sadness that comes from loving, losing and trying to move forward. These little triggers exist all around me. On a crowded southern street; the scent of his warmth and cologne after a shower. In a store; the song that played while we drove through the night to reach his family. A coworker's playlist featuring the music he played for me on the phone - or the songs he sent to me when he couldn't find the words.

Over and over again I'm jolted by scents and music that I simply can't avoid. In the masochistic moments, I listen on purpose, or smell his clothes - seek the pain that reminds me that I'm alive.

For I have also come to see the value of the pain. Essentially true then, is that the pain - while on occasion breeding cynicism, bitterness and sadness - is a constant reminder of life. That I am still alive. That I am still breathing, minute after minute. If not alive, I could not feel such pain. And by the simple matter of continuing to exist, I recognize that I possess one more enduring gift.

Refusing to continue to spin to the depths of this massive pit of solitude and melancholy, I am reminded that I still possess the capacity to love. Surely, this means eventually there will be more pain. Invariably there will be more music, more songs, the essence of memories yet to come. But capable, I am. Defeated, I am not.

And while I weep through the sadness for what will never be, I fumble for my spiral staircase. The one that brought me here to this place. I can only allow myself a limited time here. Necessary? Absolutely. It's part of the healing.

But I will return to the surface shortly. I've decided that it is high time I reverse course and head back up. The time is nigh.