It would have been three years today for Steve and I. In many, many ways, we still are together, just not “together.” Not that I expect that to make sense to anyone save myself and a very few select people. I have been a little out of sorts all weekend, and woke up this morning in an off mood. I didn’t make the connection between the non-event and my mood until I was in the shower this morning, though. I am out of sorts because today would be our three year anniversary; instead of it being a celebration of a milestone, it will instead be marked by Steve taking Owen for a few hours and me going to an AA meeting. I cannot remark upon it, cannot say anything to him about it being a significant date, and instead have to pack up the baby’s diaper bag and send them off together with a smile, even though inside I am so sad that this is what it has come down to. Especially when it is so unnecessary, when it did not have to be this way. Especially when I still love him so much, when I know that he does love me, but when it is just impossible to make him see that what I have to offer is not a burden, but a gift. My heart is more than a little heavy today, I am on the brink of tears, and at 9:00 a.m. I am already looking forward to this day passing, to waking up and having tomorrow be just another day.
This is part of why I know I am destined to stay single. Not because I am soooo in loooove with Steve that I am going to pine away and withhold my love from everyone else because I am so pathetic. No, even though I can honestly say that he is and will be the love of my life, that ephemeral “soul mate” that people talk about, I also know that there are millions of men in the world, and I could live with and love any number of them and be if not wildly happy then at least content. Of course, you don’t see any of these men banging on my door begging to go out with me, but still, they are there somewhere. The thing is, I just don’t have it in me to seek anyone out, don’t have it in me to try to get to know someone and got through the whole weeding-out-the-losers thing, and as you all know, I hate to date. Hate it, suck at it, have no desire to do that. And I am aware that this is a choice I am making; despite the fact that I have been damaged very badly by the men in my life from childhood on, I know there are a lot of really great guys out there. I can’t lay the blame on them for making me a victim, because I did that all by myself. I don’t feel like a victim in this case, though; I mean, I am just aware of my limitations, of which there are many, and also know that I am not willing to do the work it would take to find someone. Basically, I just don’t CARE anymore.
Which is, of course, a lie; I care too much. Loving too much-that is a problem for me. Back in the day when I was a drunk, I did it for all the wrong reasons-because I couldn’t stand to be in my own skin, my own life, so I gave everything I had to the people around me so that I wouldn’t have to be alone with me. It isn’t like that anymore, and I have come to terms with the way I used to be, compared it toe way I am now, and find that I am a million times more comfortable now than I ever have been. However, when I do love someone, I love them with all I have. In sobriety, it is much easier for me to keep clear lines of demarcation between myself and my partner-I have worked too hard to find myself to lose myself in another person. However, I still love wholly and unreservedly, and therein lies the problem.
Time to rethink a lot of my previously held ideas and beliefs. One is the whole Friends with Benefits thing; I have a really hard time with this concept, which is also related to my drinking days. I fucked around indiscriminately, and I have made a point since my divorce of choosing very carefully my partners. I was celibate for a long time before I met Steve, and I really do believe that for me (and ONLY me, this is not a judgement call at all!), it isn’t good for me to have sex with someone I don’t care about. I guess because being with Steve has shown me that when you love someone, it IS different. Lots. So I think I need to work on becoming more cold and callous about sex (ie, I should start thinking like a man!). Not quite sure how to do that one, but I imagine it will come.
Also, I will be the first to admit that despite my history, I still believe in love. I guess you would call me a hopeless romantic, which frankly sucks. So another project in this New Year of mine is to get over the whole “Love is gentle, love is kind” shit, the belief that as long as there is love, there is hope. I believe that the only true love that matters is the love I have for my kids; the rest is just some mythical bullshit that really has no impact on our lives. If anything, it serves as a temporary good feeling that will eventually end.
I am just pissy today; tomorrow will be better, because this terrible day will be over. And while I AM especially bitter today and it is making itself known, I also know that deep down I already AM cynical, so I don’t really have that much work to do in becoming more so. I think what is hitting me the hardest is that for a little while, I really did think that things were going to work out for me and my family just this once. And this days just serves a a reminder that no, in fact, it isn’t.
Tune in tomorrow; maybe I will be in a better mood. And I will leave you with a funny: Over the weekend, a man was stabbed in a fight outside an apartment complex; he later died. THAT part is sad, it really is. The funny part is the story in the paper: “So and so was stabbed in a fight over the weekend, he later died. Foul play is suspected.”