Ebb and flow…
Up and down…
It has been a day of reflection, and not for the first time I wonder if I am some kind of emotional masochist. I wonder – do I know what I want and what I’m doing? I think that is a resounding, firm, “Sometimes.”
One thing I do know – I love Misty/boy side.
It was a lonely day for me on Father’s Day – my kids were away at my ex’s parents place. No he wasn’t there, but I guess they Skyped. When I got them home, all they could talk about was when they were leaving for Ontario for the summer. My heart was terribly heavy.
I woke up in a good mood, even though I had barely heard a peep from Misty after she had left the morning before. It had been a rushed exit, since s/he was going to be late getting home, and that pisses the wife off. S/he has a curfew of 8am. Being late is BAD. But the hurried leaving didn’t bother me too much, I had felt so connected and loved all night.
Today it hit me, much like it did while he was on vacation with his family for three weeks, that I am alone. He may love me, but there are parts of his life I will never be a part of. I am not welcome. Iam not included.
And that just fucking sucks.
I imagined him having a great day, I wished it for him, and to him, and he sent me a message and told me how fabulous it had been. He didn’t need to say it, but I could tell his love cup was full. And that is truly, without question, a wonderful, wonderful thing. He deserves a fantastic father’s day. S/he is a damn fabulous father.
So why this strange melancholy? This dull ache? Maybe it’s because I can’t shake the stupid saying, “If you love something, let it go.” Maybe it’s because I can’t stop hearing my mother’s voice “He’s not yours to love, Becca.”
When I was younger I was super competitive, but these days the only person I really compete with is myself, and currently I feel like I am seriously sucking the hind teet at that. I should have done some yoga or run today, instead I ate like a trucker and am sipping on a beer. Anyway, the point is, I can’t and won’t compete for Misty. I can’t be her/his family. He loves his wife. I do want more time with her/him, but what if this is all s/he really wants? What if this arrangement is totally exactly what s/he wants? What do I really want?
I want someone who loves me. Passionately.
I want someone who enjoys spending time with me. Who wants to include me.
I want to love that person and feel the same way.
I want fun, joy, sex, friendship, partnership, adventure.
I want someone who shares my laugh lines and deepens them.
So I don’t know what I’m doing, being involved with someone who has a someone. Seems like a crazy, painful place to put myself – not that I did it on purpose. Again. (…Jesus, I’m an idiot…)
When I was in agony over Darth, missing him, hurting so much I imagined the worst things, I thought if I make it though this I am going to be alone. I felt it with such certainty. It felt written in stone. I saw myself in my beach house, coffee in hand, morning sun coming though the windows, reminiscing, but being at peace with it. I would rather be alone than with the wrong person and I never thought I would find that person, if that person even exsisted.
“It’s meeting the man of my dreams
And then meeting his beautiful wife”
Ironic.
And makes me feel like I need to uncup the butterfly and let karma just kick my ass already.