fixingbrokenblog

[fixingbrokenblog]

Mr. Baxter

After more than two decades, he walks back into my life. As if it weren’t planned. He just happened to need something in the store I’ve worked at for twelve, thirteen years. I call his name, he looks, but his face is blank. He doesn’t recognize me?? I recognized him just by the way he walks. His face hasn’t changed. His eyes are still blue, his smile still oozes sweet confidence. He wears a wedding ring, of course. Was this really just a random stop in his day-to-day life, or has he been building himself up to finally make contact again?

The ball is always in his court. It has been since the very beginning. It started with anonymous notes in my locker and late night phone calls from a random voice on the other end. (Those were the days before caller id and all that stuff.) Eventually he let me in on the secret and we met face to face. We spent time together after school. My memory of those days has faded, but I think we really just sat and talked. It was never a very sexually charged relationship, but it was always very emotionally connected.

Then he disappeared. Sort of. I tried to call him, over and over and over and over and over and...you get the idea. I drove by his apartment to see if he was there. I cried a lot. I was sad and I was angry. I wondered why he was gone, though I think I knew it was because of her. How he could have told me that he loved me, simply to vanish? For the next few years, he would appear in some shape or form. I’d spy him across the room at a party, see him in a frame at the photo store, or I’d get a chain mail letter that I knew was from him.

For the past twenty four years, I’ve only seen or heard him in my dreams. It always feels the same. I wake knowing that my feelings will always be real, and that he will always be just out of reach.

I receive an email a few days later asking if I’d like to do lunch and catch up. He includes his phone number. I mull it over for a day, and follow up with a text. “I’d love to catch up. Lunch would be nice.”

It takes about a month and a half for us to finally meet up. During that time he reaches out and makes it clear to me that he really does want to see me. It’s not that I don’t want to see him, but I’ve given up chasing people. Specifically, men. Most specifically, taken men. I wonder if she remembers who I am? I wonder if she knows he’s been in contact with me? I wonder if she cares?

We stand outside the bakery in the freezing cold. We talk for...an hour?...before we go inside for a hot drink. We talk about our families and friends and how did we get to be where we are at now, etc. The kind of talk you do at your 20th high school reunion, except for me it feels much more comfortable with him. We then sit in his truck and continue talking. Nothing from our past comes up. I don’t ask him why he dropped off the face of my earth. He doesn’t ask why I didn’t fight harder for him. When it’s time for me to go, he tells me that he had things he had wanted to say to me, but didn’t say any of them. I assume he can always get back to me on that; I’m not going anywhere. We hug goodbye and drive off.

I feel fine. I don’t feel a longing or a jealousy or a sadness or...anything that I can name really. As I drive I think about the emotions that I’m unable to name. Can I really be this ambivalent? Am I blocking something out?

No I can’t, and yes I was.

It comes over me like a tidal wave about an hour later. I’m crying uncontrollably, calling out to my friends. Nobody answers their phone, so I sit in my car blubbering.She calls back and pulls the emotions out of me. She makes me name them, like she always does. I’m feeling less than. I’m feeling not good enough. I wasn’t good enough for Jason. I wasn’t good enough for the cop. And I’ve never been good enough for Mr. Baxter. I feel all my relationship failures crash into me again and again. I ignore the ones that I ended, the ones that weren’t good enough for me.She talks me through the pain and into calmer waters.

“You can’t say everyone else has it perfect, then stay with someone who isn’t perfect. If everyone has happiness, then leave and go get YOUR happiness!” She always knows just how to put it into perspective.

I cry a bit more as I put myself to bed. I toss and turn all night. I’m getting sick again, and he has taken over most of my thoughts. I conclude that I must text him. He has to know...know what? That I’m ... I don’t even know. Unsettled.

He beats me to the punch. His text comes in the morning.“There’s things I feel I should have said that I didn’t. Let me know when you have a little time. I’ll say them and then I’ll leave you alone.”

Leave me alone? Again???

Things he should have said? Here’s where my mind really starts to race...

“It was all just a big joke, and I’ve come back to deliver the punch line. I never cared for you at all.”

“I’m sorry if I hurt you, but obviously she has always been the only one for me.”

“You were never really there for me. I loved you, but knew that our relationship would never go anywhere.”

“I could never really be with you, but for some reason I felt drawn to you. I’ve watched you from afar, because that is where I’m comfortable with you.”

Now. What might I wish for him to say?

Perhaps something like...“I’ve always loved you. I feel a deep connection with you. She was first, though; you know that. You remember the day at the mall, right? I shouldn’t have led you on the way I did, but it felt so good being with you. I couldn’t let it go. Until I had to. I wish I could have been up front with you back then. I hope you can forgive me. I don’t know that we can be friends. It might be too weird. But know that I think of you often, and care for you always.”

[fixingbrokenblog]

Letter from the "Other Woman"

Dear girlfriend,

I didn’t know I was the other woman. I mean there were times that I thought I was. There were times I said “no more!” and walked away.

But then there were times when he told me that you were NOT his girlfriend. Times when he told me that he was always honest with you about NOT being committed to you. There was even a time when he said he broke up with you, a time when he said we would give us a shot. It was the time I broke up with my boyfriend, too. But only for a week, because I knew he was still seeing you, and I knew I was still in love with someone else.

I want to tell you the things he says. You want me, out of respect for you, to stop communicating with him. Out of respect for you, I want you to know that you deserve so much more than what he is giving you. You deserve all the things you thought he was. You deserve honesty. You deserve to trust the man you call your boyfriend.

I’ve been in your shoes. I know the questions, the fears, and the pain. I know you want answers, and I know you want me to disappear.

I won’t disappear, though. I might fade away a little bit, but someone else will fade right into my place. I’m sure deep down, you know this. Deep down, you know he is not true to you. I hope that deep down, you know you deserve better.

[fixingbrokenblog]

[fixingbrokenblog]

So glad I made it...

Keep the flame going for those we have lost to suicide. 

[fixingbrokenblog]

Summer 2015

I look over at Jason, trying to remember the love I once felt for him. I look at his hands, the very hands that used to grab me passionately. I look at his legs, not believing that they are the same legs I once loved caressing. I look at his mouth and imagine kissing him. The thought bothers me in the way the thought of kissing my brother does. Is this what it feels like to be over someone?

The anger has all but subsided. The hurt has faded into the dull background. Moments of regret and jealousy pass quickly through my life now and then, but I don’t want him anymore. I wonder what I would say if he wanted to come back. Iwonder if our love could ever be rekindled. He will always be my... I can always tells him anything, he will always "get" me, we are still connected and always will be. I do. We still do.

[fixingbrokenblog]

Is it football season?

Football

I think Football really loved me. I think he left me because he knew he could not be the man I needed, or thought I needed. He definitely thought I deserved better. I was in that place where love conquers all. I was overlooking the age difference, the fact that he was a slob, that he was unmotivated. I loved him, I loved our connection, our easy conversation, and our delicious sex. He left me because he truly loved me.

The Raven

I look up at him as he pounds himself into me. There is mischief, serious intent, and beautiful youth in his eyes. They penetrate me. He looks at me just like Football did. He is so handsome, like Football was. Not in the way that people do a double take when they see him; not in the way that he should be on the cover of a magazine. He tries to be handsome sometimes, but that is not when I see it. I see it when he lets go and forgets that he thinks he needs to try.

[fixingbrokenblog]

High School Not-Sweetheart, part 1

Summer 1990 The annual festival is going on. We are hanging out - watching bands play, riding rides, eating fried dough, and drinking vodka. The whole gang is there. Some of us are most likely high, others may be tripping. The boys have taken their shirts off because it is so hot in the blazing sun. There is no shade. He puts his hands on the back of his head, right under his fire engine red dreadlocks. I have always harbored feelings for him, but I’m certain he has no idea. He probably doesn’t even know I’m there; there are so many cooler, prettier girls there.

Summer 2013 He hasn’t been home in years. The last time he was here, ten or so years ago, he stayed for a day to see his mom and moved on. So many people come out to see him this time. It is a grand reunion at one of the local bars. We see each other and he lights up. I’m there with a date, but that doesn’t stop me from embracing him after making our way through the crowd to each other. He seems almost as happy as i feel. The room is full of people from my past; we are all drinking. At the end of the night, he begs me to stay, to spend more time with him. I know it is the alcohol talking, but it still feels nice. We exchange phone numbers and hug goodbye.

We text each other over the next couple days, and make plans to meet for a drink the night before he is heading back south. I am oddly nervous when the time comes. It is so comfortable, yet so strange. We are all grown up now, both divorced and weathered from our own storms. We drink and laugh, reminisce and catch up. I have some beer in my car, so we decided to go to the beach. There we sit next to each other under the moonlight. He looks at me and tells me, “I think you should kiss me.” Inside I giggle like a schoolgirl. I nonchalantly tell him I don’t know, and he leans over and kisses me. It is phenomenal. It is worth every bit of the twenty five years I’ve waited. We make out on a blanket on the beach for awhile before he takes me back to the house where he’s staying. There is sand all over our bodies, so we shower. It is hot, steamy…like a romances novel. We take it to the bedroom until we pass out. Morning comes, and I leave for work. There is no telling when I will ever see him again. There is no telling what this meant to him, if anything…

[fixingbrokenblog]

Why do we fall in love so easy, Even when it's not right?

Pink - "Try"

[fixingbrokenblog]

Stars

There is a chill in the air and it is dark outside. I stop on my way in from my car and look up. The sky is filled with stars. I realize that I am nothing. I could disappear and it wouldn’t matter.

[fixingbrokenblog]

Happy enough

Since Jason left, I have dated a bunch. More than I ever thought I would do in my lifetime actually. I used to wish I had dated before I met Jason, but now I wish I never had to. I don't want Jason back, but a part of me just wishes he never left. It would have been so much easier. I've dated neat guys, messy guys, tall, short, handsome, average looking, black, white, younger, older, successful, struggling, optimistic, pessimistic, rude, polite...the list goes on. I think having had all these experiences has made me become more picky. I knew when I committed to Jason that we had our issues. The thing is, I loved him so much that none of that stuff mattered. I knew we were connected in such a special way. I knew we could make a life together and be happy. Or at least happy enough for me. But now...I've experienced having the door opened for me, having flowers sent to me, having a man always pick up the check. I've had mind blowing sex. I've been allowed to have my feelings acknowledged. All the things that were missing in our marriage; all the things I thought I'd never have...I've had them now. The problem is, nobody gives me all those things AND connects with me. There are so many...too many...variables now. Now I have the opportunity to be picky. I thought that would be a good thing, take my time and wait for the guy who has it all. Meanwhile though, I feel like the days are wasting away. I could just stop this and be "happy enough" again.

[fixingbrokenblog]

Dumb

I am done playing stupid. I am done pretending that we are actually going somewhere. There will always be a reason for him to wait. I am shaken by the realization that all this time it is me who is the other woman. After all, she came first. He is her man. He may say I'm his girl, but so is she. But he is not my man, he is hers. He says he loves me, but his heart is with her. I tell him I saw M.E. "I knew it!" he says with accusation in his voice. He refuses to play stupid, so why should I? I knew it, too...so many times. I may or may not walk away, but I am no longer pretending that he is or will soon be mine.

[fixingbrokenblog]

Projection

I project that they are happy.

She tells me that we have no idea. We project these things that just aren’t true. Everyone has their problems. All those picture perfect happies we imagine, well, they just aren’t there. Does that go for the bad stuff, too? I hope my negative projections are just as fictional as the positive. I may never know.

[fixingbrokenblog]

Intuition

T>After seven years, she moves on. Finally. Quickly. It has been one week, and she has already found the man of her dreams, the one she's going to marry. She is certain because her intuition is screaming it. She tells me that if this doesn't work out, she will be crushed because of how sure she is. She thinks that if her intuition could be this wrong, then she will never trust it again.

L>My intuition drove me right into the arms of Mr. E. I probably would have...made some sort of extended living arrangement...with him. I think it took us about a month to be sure.

T>It is less than a week later, and he is gone. She rushed things. Not that he was looking for just a good time; I'm sure he is on his search for "the one" himself. But her intuition was too strong for him. Maybe his was wrong, maybe he is the one that was just afraid to jump.

L>Six months later, I am nearly certain that he is not the right man for me. I see him one last time, selfishly, to make sure I've made the right decision. I still love his scent. I still want to stroke the whiskers on his cheek. And who wouldn't love those magic words he speaks? But something is gone. It's not just the new-ness that's missing, it is something else. It has been a month, and it feels like it. There is a bit of awkwardness that hangs in the air. There are so many words we leave unspoken. We both know we should talk, but we don't.

T>Like me, she has decided to get her head straight, deal with the shit of Now, and ready herself for "the one." We seek counsel, drink drinks, and hang out with each other and our girlfriends. We need to be okay. We will be okay. We are okay.

L> I am okay. I can see him. I can see other hims. I am not rushing into it. I won't pressure him, and I won't rush myself. I am finding my own place, and making it happy, safe, calm. Only then will the doors open wide for the one. Only then will we all be ready.

[fixingbrokenblog]

Vacation

He is gone. I don't know where he went. I remember he said something about how he should have just said he was going to visit his brother, because she wouldn't have known the difference. I also remember that today is the day he chose. At the time it seemed random, but now it falls into place. Today was the day for a reason. I don't know where he is. It's not my place to know, I guess. I don't know where his heart lies. I don't know where his mind is at. I wonder if he is with her, telling her the same things he tells me. I wonder if this will make up for the time she lost, will it keep her hanging on, too? I wonder if he really meant it at the time, but ended up chicken-ing out. My trust is broken. I no longer give it freely. There are too many unanswered questions, avoided topics, and conversations put on the shelf for later. But later never seems to come. I'm left hanging once again. Wondering, waiting...letting my mind wander recklessly into that land of disappointment.

[fixingbrokenblog]

I couldn’t keep him waiting any longer. I remember the pain so vividly, the pain I felt when Jason kept me hanging. The pain I felt by being bounced back and forth, from wife to dead weight and back again. I won’t do that to him.

So I set him free. I want for him to be able to be happy. The very last thing I ever wanted to do was to hurt him, but that is exactly what I am doing. I know the frustration he must be feeling. That wanting. That knowing. He knows, as I knew with Jason, that if I would only put in the effort, he could be completely happy. I’d even guess that he knows that I could be completely happy. Do I not love him enough to do that? Did Jason not love me enough? Does the family man not love me enough?

I’m pretty sure the core of a solid relationship is not necessarily love, but effort; the ability to be all in, no matter what; the courage to know that it’s worth it in the end, that the effort will pay in the long run. I know I had it in me when I was married. I wonder if I will ever find the strength to put that kind of effort in again?

[fixingbrokenblog]

Family Guy

It's so easy. It was always so easy. Well... within the first twenty minutes of our first date it became easy. There were a couple nervous moments on our way to each other, but we made it there. And here we are. "No secrets, no lies," he says. Also no labels and no promises. She tells me I am motherly. Not just because I have kids, as there have been others before me who were mothers but not motherly. She missed out on being mothered. I'm not trying, it just spills out. I'm offering advice, words of wisdom coming from years of heartbreak. Before I know it, she calls me out. I am talking about me. And him. She is still sad, but she takes pride in this union she can claim to have created. He gives me a date. It's not too far off, but peculiar to me that it is so specific. Funny that he wants me to wait even longer. He tells me that his friend likes me, and he says he puts a lot of stock into his friend's opinion. He tells me he's happy, he tells me he misses me after only twelve hours apart, he tells me he loves me with tears in his eyes. He asked me why I say I love him. I ponder the reasons, trying to wrap words around them. Finally I speak, "Because you take care of people." There is more, much more; but I believe that is the essence of my love and respect for him. I could list off all the reasons, but as I sit quietly and he smiles, I realize that is enough.

[fixingbrokenblog]

Mr E

I have never felt as safe as I feel when I am with him. I have never trusted anyone as completely as I trust him.

He is quiet, calm, gentle. I know he would do anything for me. I know his love for me is real. I know he is honest and true. I know he is mine if I want him.

His body fits mine like pieces of a puzzle, finally finding their way into each other’s unique cut. Our energies mesh, it feels…right.

He is awkward. People don’t understand his humor because he is so smart. He doesn’t hold the door for me or pick up the check. He has few, if any, material desires. He is a man of few and simple needs.

He is mine. If I want him. Why would I not?