I want to write a bit about the trainwreck that was my relationship with the bartender. I had hoped to talk with him and find some closure that way, but he is not interested in that and I know deep inside that the closure to find is my own and has nothing to do with him. This entry is part of that and once it is written and posted I want to let my feelings about him be expressed through dreams, movement, art, theatre and play. No more tweets. No more song lyrics (I have posted those in the past two years when I could not find the strength to write my own words. I found comfort in doing that, but its time to try new things – ah, the new shiny toolbox of mindful strategies). No more random talks with random strangers about broken hearts. At least not mine. My ear will always be there for those who want to share, because its my time to return the favour and listen. And no more burdening my friends with my pain and confusion. They have done their best to receive me with love and support even as they watched the disaster unfold and felt their own confusion over a man who so messily handles his sex life, but is still considered by many of my friends as his friend.

So, what the hell happened? Well, this rebound relationship ended less than gracefully. Let’s be honest, it was less than graceful through out. Since July I have been trying to end things. On and off is what we were.  He knew I loved him and that I wanted to explore something deeper with him, but that was not at all what he wanted. Yet, I kept going back for more and he kept stringing me along, keeping the bond between us strong via sex. This made me angry. Angry at him but, mostly angry at myself. I felt used. I felt like I was a novelty. I felt like I was good enough to fuck, but not good enough to be in a relationship with. All things that are a sex worker’s worse nightmares in terms of personal relationships. Whether this is how he felt, I do not know. He didn’t want to talk about it then or now. I know he thought I was needy. He told me that at least. I also have it on good authority that he thinks that of many of the ladies in his deck of cards. Though no matter what I do not think I could have behaved in a way that would have given me the relationship I wanted or feel I deserve. Yes, I am very angry with myself for accepting what I was offered.  I am embarrassed that I did not have the strength to walk away.  I am ashamed of my feelings of resentment and I am humiliated by my actions that were my response to this resentment. [someone is on a texting sabbatical]

The resentment interestingly came about mostly because I created a new social life through him. It became my own and I thrived in it. I discovered things I am passionate about and made great friends in the process.  However, this social life of mine is his world. His entire world. I have other things that interest me. I have other activities I do. Many little separate spheres that include family, friends, peers and lovers.  Focusing on this social life was good for me in many ways (new skills! new passions!) and I really miss the activities I engaged in (bowling! trivia! music!), but doing them while watching him start another trainwreck with someone new is not my idea of fun. So I am going to take a break from the activities and let the resentment die down while still trying to maintain ties to new friends and acquaintances. When some time has passed we will see if the activities and certain haunts can be part of my life again. 

Now back to how it was when I was in the thick of things.

I tried numerous times to end things, but I always returned to him thinking I could be satisfied with the morsels he gave me. I was tough. I could handle things if they were casual. I did in my past. Why not now? Well, he operates very differently than I do when it comes to slutdom and promiscuity. I am used to openness and transparency. Him – not so much. He is not a liar but he is is vague and not at all forthcoming. His slutty ways are shady ways. That he chose his lady friends from the same pool so to speak added to the messiness. So seeing each other casually was not a realistic option. Maybe we could still be friends? Well, that didn’t last long. Off to bed we went. Again and again. I was very much deluding myself. Being alone with him or having him look at me with desire felt so good. It was my drug of choice and my fix was short lived and led to a downward spiral of angst. Why didn’t he love me? I was so kind, generous, and passionate.  He told me once I was his dream girl. He told me no one had ever been so thoughtful towards him. If this messed up dude couldn’t love me, then who could? Then I would go back, get my hit and feel ok for a little while and then back I slid into rejection and despair. What a roller coaster!

So why did I tolerate this craziness? Why did I keep wanting him? I was trying to come to terms with the end of my marriage. I was in so much pain. Dealing with the cuckoo relationship with the bartender helped me tolerate my pain and gave me time to process it. When drama ensued, as it always did, I could cry the entirety of my pain through the filter of the rebound disaster. I sought out in him something to make me feel safe, whole and accepted. The relationship as insane as it was was a substitute for a deeper longing.

When desire gets strong mindfulness goes out the window. Willa Cather tells us, “There is only one big thing – desire. And before it, when it is big, all is little.” We can honor desire as a life force, but still see how it causes suffering when it takes over our life. Our natural hungerfor food can become an ungovernable craving for food – ice cream, sweets, potato chips – comfort food or food to numb our feelings. Our longing for sex and affection can become an aguished dependcy on another human being to define and please us. Our need for shelter and clothing can turn into insatiable greed, compelling us to posess three houses and closest full of unworn shoes. Our fundamental longing to belong and feel loved becomes an insistent craving for subsitutes.

Radical Acceptance: Embracing Your Life with the Heart of a Buddha

Tara Brach, Ph.D.

You might wonder why I loved him. He sounds like a jerk and I suppose he is, but I saw and experienced more. At first, I think it was chemical. He smelled good to me. He tasted good to me. The way we kissed was amazingly perfect. He is a talented, passionate and generous man who is loyal to those he loves. He is also angry, bitter, funny, resentful, timid, cocky, insecure, self-involved and very much damaged. Even when told me he has no heart, just a black stone, I thought he was just dwelling in self-pity (I have never met anyone who feeds off and maybe even revels in shame quite like he does). However, by making himself the villain I thought he was copping out of responsibility for his actions and some perverted part of me didn’t want to let him off that easy. I was going to fight for him. Its not that I thought I could fix or heal him, but if someone has not received unconditional love I want to give it to them as best I can. I wanted to do that for him. It was a reflection of a sort of vanity on my part though it had good intentions. Now I see more clearly.

It is however unquestionable that there are many whose spirits are so locked in behind an impenetrable armor that even the greatest effort to nurture the  growth of those spirits are doomed to almost certain failure. To attempt to love someone who cannot benefit from your love with spiritual growth is to waste your energy, to cast your seed upon arid ground. Genuine love is precious, and those who are capable of genuine love know that their loving must be focused productively as possible through self-discipline.

The Road Less Traveled

M. Scott Peck, M.D.

I want to choose better next time and for that to happen it has to be through my own hard work. I am in therapy and doing a lot of reading. I am taking care of my body once again. I am meditating a little and developing my skills so I am my own best ally (or best friend, parent, etc…). By doing this for myself  I am becoming a stronger friend, sister, daughter, and lover because of it. Hopefully, a better partner one day too. I know some people learn these lessons early on and have a sense of resilience and integrity earned at a younger age. Its something that I have had to learn as an adult. My life demanded it of me and its where I stand today. Not everyone is up for this work though. Many prefer their status quo even though it is poisoning them literally and figuratively. It makes me think that meeting the bartendar when I did was a recipe for disaster. Where I was. Where he was. Had it happened two years before we would have likely been a weekend fling. If I met him now I would likely not even notice him.

All this being said, I am still a mix of anger and resentment with a bunch of sadness and hope thrown in. I genuinely wish him love and happiness, but know he cannot find it unless he stops seeking out his own substitutes and faces his own painful truths. No one can do that for him. I look forward knowing I will see this time with him as an assignment for my spiritual growth. I still need to lick my wounds a bit and will keep using that amazing toolbox I am building to help me do so.