At the edge.

I don't know why I am writing this; at least, writing it here. But here goes.

I am in Phoenix. He lives here. We had a fight, over a week ago. I was supposed to come visit the weekend before this; he had to cancel because he had to work. The argument on the phone culminated in him hanging up on me, and I have not heard from him since. I have called, emailed, sent text messages. Not a lot - no more than once a day. But no response.

He had said, just a couple of days before that, he could see making a life with me. And one fight changed all of that? How? Especially at our age? One day you want to build a life - the next day, one argument, and it's completely over?

So...here I am. Staying in a hotel a few miles from his apartment. I will soon get dressed in the outfit I wore on the first day I met him, and I will show up at his apartment. He may refuse to see me. I'm prepared for that.

If he does refuse, I've got plenty to keep me busy. Books, movies, I can write. I've got the hotel until Sunday, and if nothing else, it's good to get out of town for something besides a funeral. It's good to get out of my house for a bit - my normal walls, my normal life. It's good to be away, and just...be.

I don't know what the next 48 hours will hold. Maybe nothing in my life will change. Maybe everything will.

You can't do it alone.

What Goes Around...

Karma is a fun thing to say. “That’s karma for you!” we say when someone who experiences what appears to be punishment for past crimes. “Isn’t my karma any good?” we say to ourselves when bad things happen and we think we’ve been mostly good people. We want there to be some sort of divine justice in our world. We want it to make sense.

The fact is, like many made-up religious things, karma is make believe. It makes us feel better to think when someone hurt us, they’ll get some sort of punishment from the universe at a later date. The problem with this is: it’s not always true.

Plenty of people do plenty of bad, hurtful things - and get away with it. It might even look like they are extra-blessed after their misconduct. And we also need to remember that even if they do go through something bad in their life further down the road, it doesn’t really fix what that person did to you.

Instead of believing the very fallible “what goes around, comes around” philosophy, we need to learn to practice something that is so easy to say, and so hard to do: let go.

It is so hard to let go. I get it. I am in the midst of trying to let go of a few painful things myself. It would help if I knew those who hurt me were hurting a little too. I admit I’d probably feel some satisfaction. But the thing is: those people are not in my life anymore (either by their decision, or mine). The only thing left for me to do is to let go.

Would it really take away the pain of being rejected and abandoned by him if I knew some other woman did the same thing to him? Would it really ease the sting of loneliness if I knew her new best friend dumped her, too? I suspect not as much as I think it might.

So instead of perpetuating the myth of karma, I am advising others - and myself! - to just…


Let.

It.

Go.

Breathe through the pain, remember to smile with gratitude at the good times, and when hurt lingers longer than it should: let it go.

Into the fire

Ok, maybe that title is a little dramatic. But, then again, maybe not.

I was thinking this evening how strange and sad it is that we can forget some really big, important life lessons. Last fall when I was first separated, I dated a guy who told me about this book called Daring Greatly. Things with him and me did not work out, but just that one thing was quite valuable.

I thought I could do it - be brave enough to be vulnerable. And here I am, on the edge of returning to a different man - I can't really call it a relationship, as I'm not sure that's what it ever was - but returning to a man I enjoyed immensely, and a situation that I am scared of entering for a number of reasons.

We didn't have a good start; we both acknowledge that. There are various reasons for that, valid reasons, but yes, it was painful for me.

I want to get past that, and I'm trying. I don't think he ever meant to, or wanted to, cause me pain. I was in a vulnerable place relationship-wise, and he was in a personally vulnerable place. Pain was on the menu and we didn't even know it, because we didn't really know one another and quite obviously didn't trust each other. It was just too new for that.

But I have learned a lot about me, in these last several months. About what I want and need, what I'm capable of.

And I believe in the possibility of love. I know it exists; I've seen it. The lifelong kind, I've yet to experience, but I've observed. I still don't know if it's possible for me: not because men I am attracted to or fall in love with are incapable, but maybe, because I am. I don't want to believe that about myself, but I fear sometimes that it may be true.

Nevertheless, he wants to take a chance with me. And while I need a lot more than what he seems willing or able to give, I'm risking it, for now. I am not leaping, and I'm not diving, but I do want to get past more than just dipping my toes in the water.

I want to really, truly be involved. And I don't know if he'll let me, really. He says he wants that, but I still feel like there are mixed signals. I think if you want her, you leave no doubt in her mind. But it's also really very possible those are my doubts; not anything he's done or not done.

I want to be brave enough to be vulnerable, and I am trying so hard. I hope he understands and appreciates my effort. I want to know, and to be known.