In finally confronting all my shadows, I came to the realization that my vulnerability had crippled me.
He wrote to me, venting his frustrations. He declared his disappointment in me; his confusion and his interpretation of my actions hurt me in the same way I’d hurt him, but I still could not rally enough courage to confide in him. How many times could I risk to bare my neck before the blade? I knew that I was losing him.
I wrote a longer message that I decided not to send. I’m frustrated because I have given much of myself to you, and after a weekend that I felt brought us closer together, I feel as though you’re pushing me away. I don’t know what you mean to accomplish with this. You know my feelings for you, so what you’re currently doing is very hurtful. I would understand better if I deserved this, but I have done nothing that merits this. How would you feel if after all we’ve been through I began to push you away? If you want to lose me and ask me to leave, so be it, but address it. Don’t put me on a course that goes in circles. I told you before I feel as though I have a second life. I want you to be there with me as I start it, but I have no idea what you want, so please inform me and remove the uncertainty that was not present just this afternoon.
In desperation I met with an old friend at a Chinese restaurant across the street from my office building. I told him everything, and I trusted that he would understand me.
There was no point in holding back, my friend advised me. The fear is always with you; it never goes away, regardless if you’ve hurt or not. If there’s a chance that you could be happy too, then why not take it?
When I returned, I translated for him all that he had wanted to hear from me. He listened when I spoke, never interrupting, as I confessed my fears.
I’ve never dated a man before that didn’t need me, I said. It was never in my capacity to love someone who did not feel more so inclined toward me. My affection was never equal to theirs. I suppose it was my only defense, my only safeguard, to shut down some part of me. In that way, I was always able to walk from each relationship intact on my own terms, and after years of this emotional drought I don’t know how to let go. I’ve never known anything else.
He is not this way, which makes him such a threat to me, because in my weak state he could do much more damage to me than I to him.
When I finished, he said ‘thank you.’ At last he understood, and he did not criticize nor chastise me for my ungrounded apprehension, but soothed me. I felt relieved to have him know my mind, and we carried on as if nothing ever happened, both free from frustration, confusion, fear and anxiety. A fresh beginning, a thing of beauty.
But as if my Heart could feel my life moving on without him, he was not content in letting me go.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Foolishly I believed that the struggle with my Heart had ended, but love is never so simple it seems. There is no black or white, no right and wrong, nor the epic ending of good’s triumph over evil. Love has many faces—all in shades of gray—many names and guises and tastes, yet it still retains that awe-inspiring ability to change people for better or for worse.
We met in a parking lot illuminated by street lamps. I hadn’t seen him in more than two months, and even in the darkness I could see how much his time away had changed him. His features were drawn and pale, as if he’d been deprived of sleep and food for years. His clothes hung baggy on his diminished frame, and I felt pity for him.
I wanted to tell him that there was no fairness in what we faced; I wanted to comfort him, and to tell him that ours is the story of two people in love that were never meant to be together. All these things I wanted to tell him, but when he laid the blame on me for all things wrong about us now, I paced the streets like a caged tiger, hardly able to see through my own anger. It was like a haze that shielded my eyes. He couldn’t understand, yet I’d past the point of willingness to explain, and I felt repulsed by his tears, his pleas and touch. He said my name over and over again, as if calling out to me would bring me back to him, as if it would let him hold on a little longer, but it was too late to change my mind.
The first and only one to break my heart … a Heart fashioned after my own.
I made a mistake, Casey. He called me by my childhood name. People make mistakes. This was the hardest time of my life. There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think about what I’d done and what I’d lost. When they said heartache, I didn’t know that it would hurt this much. Looking back on it all, it’s like an emotional nightmare. If you ever wanted to get back at me for anything I ever did, this is more than enough. I was stupid, and I more than paid for it. I can see why you don’t want to be with me right now, but at the same time, I wish you would find it in your heart to forgive me. I’m willing to work through every bit of hardship with you. I do love you, and I’ve never loved anyone more in my entire life. I don’t know why I did what I did, but I swear to you I’ll never do it again, because I realized what I did and I promise to appreciate you much more because I’ve realized a lot. Don’t let everything we’ve worked for be ruined over a question.
So many promises he made to me that night, but I had not the ears to hear him. In my mind and cruelty, I wanted him to suffer as I had, to know what he had done to me. Perhaps to others I seem heartless, but when the person who loves you the most betrays your heart and portrays you as a fool, I can only protect myself through anger.
We said our goodbyes and parted ways. It is finished.
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