And Speaking of Weddings

000 emoNo, no.   I want to talk about it.   I should talk about it.   Talking about it makes it easier to forget about it.   And besides, there are probably people who wonder to themselves on occasion, “Why is Lauren such a bitch?” & this might make interesting reading for them.   Or not.   Like I care.

I do believe that my life, or God, or the Evil Alien Lords have a plan for me.   I do.   And when certain things manifest in my life in such a way that it smells sort of like a message, I try to be cooperative or at least vigilant.   Last month my anticipated term of caregiving came to an end when my grandmother, who I had expected to hang on for several more years, let go.   Since then I’ve been more or less adrift, disoriented & bewildered at the suddenness with which my life has apparently been returned to me.   And then last night someone told me that Brad got married.

000 you oughta knowYeah, him.   He Who Must Not Be Named.   My last boyfriend.   The last guy I was ever in love with, who gently & politely broke up with me for the 5th time as we lay in bed on the morning of May 15, 2005.   He got married.

I know what you’re thinking.   You’re thinking that the news of his marriage breaks my heart because it’s a significant & meaningful sign that he & I will never be together again ever.   That he won’t come crawling back with some charming, fawning line for a chance to break up with me a 6th time & destroy my life again.   That I’m so broken up because now, 4 years later, I’ve finally gotten confirmation that that last break up was real this time; he wasn’t just fucking with me.

That would be inaccurate.

I’m furious.   I’m jealous.   I’m disgusted with myself for caring.   I’m struggling not to hate him.   I’m trying to find some redeeming thing in my life that makes this seem less shitty.   But no, I am not mourning his departure.   I did that years ago.   If he had come crawling back I would have gone looking for some rocks.

I have spent the last 4 years of my life unable to scrape up any kind of caring or emotional attraction to anyone.   The one guy I dated (3 dates, that’s something) I had absolutely no liking for; I just knew that he was going to be great in bed & after confirming that, I broke up with him because our incompatible schedules meant that I would be reaping rewards proportionately way too infrequently compared with how much I was going to have to talk to him.   My friends laughed & made comments about my “male” attitude, but the fact of the matter is that I am emotionally destroyed.   I’ve been seeing a therapist for 3 years.    We’re still waiting for it to grow back.   That thing.    I can’t even truthfully say I want it back.

000 why should I cry for youSince our break up I’ve struggled with my pettiness.   I keep trying to find fault in him, because somehow blaming him saves me from being the waste of time he spent 2 years convincing me I was.   I keep hearing him telling our therapist, “My family feels I could do better.”   I’m haunted by his whimsical statement, hoping that he would move on to find Miss Right, but that I would never be with another man.   At the time it was a wistful joke mourning his feelings of attachment, but 4 years later it’s a painful, malignant curse.   Intellectually I know that I’m just being silly, & I keep telling myself so, & yet I remain damned.

And oh yeah, I’m trying to stop hating myself for letting it happen.   It’s a work in progress.

There’s a part of me that feels happy for him, probably that same part that felt happy for the crazy, malicious bitch who made Mother Of The Year recently & whose hip nightclub events are in MidWeek or the Weekly every other month.   I’m happy that you… you PEOPLE are doing well.   I’m glad that you are achieving your dreams.   Good for you.   You go.

And then I turn back into a frog.

Getting my life back — no longer being responsible for a 91-year-old — means a lot of things.   It means I can catch up on Missing Dave gigs.   I can go see Sunway sing.   I can go out, without planning it a week ahead, if I want to (although I got kind of used to planning things a week ahead).   I can take guys home.   I can get into a relationship.   Well, I can pretend to be in one at least, if I want to.

000 comfort of strangers

And then Brad getting married.   It’s not a sign; it’s the pivoting of eras in my life.   I sense this.   It was an emotional day for me, & when I say this I don’t mean that I made new cuts on my wrists but that there were simply all kinds of colors flooding through my head all day, every moment, as I did whatever it is I do on Wednesdays.   I’m not the kind of person who has people to talk to; I have this blog.   I tell the anonymous, silent person, maybe because there’s no attachment liability there.   I have people I can count on to drive me home when I’m wasted.   I don’t have shoulders to cry on.   And if you offered me yours I’d probably slap you.   No, seriously.   I will slap you.

It hurts me that he’s succeeding.   Him, with the family that views every significant other of any family member as The Enemy.   Apparently he did meet Miss Right.   And now they are going to live happily ever after, privileged, & their kids are going to go to private school & then live happily ever after.   There’s always the chance that family tradition will prevail &, like his siblings he’ll have a nasty divorce & then he & the entire family will spend the rest of their lives condemning, cursing & namecalling the offending ex-mate.   Because that’s what they do.

And I’m going to rot.   Here in this hole where he put me.   He put me here.   I can’t seem to get out.   I’ve been trying to get out for 4 years & he met someone his family likes & married her.   I’m so angry.   It’s so unfair.

Earlier today I2 said to I1, “Why does it have to be anyone’s fault?   How about no one being at fault?”   And I1 said, “It has to be his fault because if it isn’t then it’s my fault, & that would mean that I really am worthless & a waste of time.”   But that’s because I1 still believes him.   I1 still has this attachment to his opinions.    Which is stupid.

I is stupid sometimes.

I would really like to believe that it was no one’s fault.   Intellectually I know it.    I’ve been arguing this for years, but emotionally I still think that I’m worthless & that I have to pretend that I’m not, even to myself, by blaming him.

So once I can make myself believe that I’m not a huge, disgusting loser, then I can stop blaming him.   Then I can finally be free of him.

This may take some time.   But now would be pretty appropriate.

Congratulations Brad.

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3 responses to “And Speaking of Weddings

  1. I don’t know you, nor do I know how I stumbled upon your blog. But I feel compelled to share the below because I think that it might help you somewhat. Sorry to say this isn’t a sales pitch for Jesus or antidepressants.

    So, to get to the root of the matter: all actions that we take in life are ultimately defined by our subjective perspective.

    Alienating and devoid of chicken soup, yes, but humor me and read on.

    Every human being is unique in their makeup of how they understand and process the world. Our educational and religious influences, our family and friends, past experiences, the hopes and dreams that we saw actioned and championed by others whom we respect – all of these things combine to create a singular perspective. No perspective is more valid than another… especially when you consider that thought is a product of man.

    We are but babies on this planet, standing on the shoulders of those who came before us… their knowledge and traditions, their thoughts and opinions… their perspectives. And likewise, they stand on those who came before them. Follow this pattern ad nauseum and you start to realize that the ‘authority’ of what is right and wrong, just and unjust, is based on our relation to the ‘other’, that which is outside of us.

    Only the physical world seems to hold values that are predictable and knowable. The rules of nature are complicated but consistent, and spoken in a language older than time and human experience. When I drop a ball I know it will fall. If I go without food or water I will die. My decomposing corpse will help sustain life anew as something else takes sustenance from it. It is composed of cycles, long and short, many many many interrelated cycles and ecosystems that come together to form….. well, nature. If you look at the various landscapes in the world and think of them as people, you see how different influences in the form of cycles have shaped them. The influence of water is weak in the desert. The influence of heat is strong. By virtue of this unique combination of influences, the desert has a unique population of animals and plants that can survive some other places, but not all. It is an island.

    Brad chose to leave you because of what he believed due to his own significant influences and experiences (e.g. his family, friends and past experiences). He made this choice because of his unique, individual ‘truth’, his singular perspective, merely one of the infinite that can and do exist, depending on the significant influences and experiences of the individual positing said truth.

    Because you loved Brad, his perspective – and therefore his actions – gained credence in your heart and mind. He was a major influence on your personal perspective. His ‘truth’ became merged with your ‘truth’, hence one of the reasons why all this still hurts so much.

    This is not to say that your ‘truth’ did not influence Brad. Of course it did! But we are the sum of many ‘truths’, and so there is no sense in trying to judge their individual weight and relative influence. Rather, it is how they interact that creates the person. And that is where the majority of our differences lie.

    No relationship will ever be perfect as a result. There will always be tension. Different people have different levels of tolerance for that tension, and certain areas of their personality will have less tolerance than others. Like how penguins can only live in the antarctic, and polar bears the arctic. By superficial observation, this seems absurd… but it’s true. They are dependent on things that go beyond what is understandable to an outsider.

    And we are all outsiders when it comes to other people. We interpret their actions using our unique perspective; actions that were made under the guidance of THEIR unique perspective. Assumptions of this sort are common and painful… trust me, I’m a repeat offender.

    Deep down, I venture that you truly, intimately believe that his actions are justifiable. Anger helps to control that burn, but it has scarred you. Unavoidable in matters of love; heavy and painful yet subversive and secretive. Put plainly – it fucking sucks.

    I don’t really know what to say in terms of how anyone can heal that unspoken ‘something’ which is lost when burned by another who shaped your world. Is it about learning to trust again? Or learning to see the world through the eyes of someone else (granted, an impossibility, but something that must ALWAYS be considered)?

    I apologize if the above is unwelcome or seems heartless or cold. I apologize if I just wasted a few minutes of your day, or cause you to groan and remember things that you were trying to forget. But when I see someone suffering I find it hard to walk on by. Especially when I’ve known that suffering in my own way in the past.

    I hope that time and guardianship of your thoughts will help… they will, if you’re consistent. Find new influences. Sing new songs. Stop questioning and start doing. Strive to understand the macro why, not the micro what. And learn to accept. That is how to create a bridge to that stranded ‘something’. Be well.

  2. Thanks Ian; your post makes a lot of sense!

    To be honest, once I wrote this blog… it seemed like I forgot about the whole Brad thing. It didn’t even feel like a burden had been lifted off of me; it just wasn’t there any more. Weird. I asked my therapist about it & she said that by making a public statement I had basically put a lid on it & could move on.

    “You mean it was that easy? All I had to do was write a blog?” I asked her. I was on the verge of being pissed off.

    “It was really hard to get to the point where you could write the blog,” was her response. Meh, I guess she’s right. That was really hard.

    In retrospect I’m remembering odd things that happened that never seemed significant before & I’m getting angry about them for the first time. I am amazed that I didn’t get angry back when they happened, & I guess it illustrates the state of mind I was in. For instance, he told me that his sister, realizing he was sneaking back to my house after we had broken up, cautioned him to use condoms. How rude. I have never been pregnant in my life, & that’s because I’m a responsible person & I’ve been careful. I respect the concept of parenthood. I would also never try to catch a man with my womb; that’s ridiculous. And she had absolutely NO REASON to think that of me, but she chose to. And then BRAD chose to tell me about it. What a bunch of jerks. They had blaring neon signs pointing out what quality people they were & I never saw it because I was in love.

    I guess I’m grateful that I’ve escaped. Thank you for your comment! Most would be scared to say anything.

  3. Hi Lauren,

    I’m really glad to hear that you have attained closure on the matter. The mind is a strange beast, and ‘confession’ is indeed a very difficult but soothing medicine, as is the recollection of memories that appear, with time, to be blaring neon warning signs!

    Best of luck, bullet dodger extraordinaire ;)

    Take care,
    Ian

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