People break up for a reason

I used to be good friends with a guy named Sean; a blunt Irish Bostonian who could always be counted on to call a spade a spade. His BS detector provided spot on insight and identification of any crap being peddled; he would provide relentlessly straightforward advice to we foolish girls being spoon fed lines extraordinaire by the loser of the month we happened to be dating. Of course in the moment the advice was resented and discounted, but in retrospect we nearly grimaced in disgust over the wisdom of his words and the foolishness displayed. One of the smartest things Sean ever said to me was in regard to a mutual female friend recently dumped by her cassanovaesque lover (who had been seeing her and forty other girls on the side). Out at the local watering whole a mere two nights after said heartbreak, we caught them on the dance floor playing tonsil hockey. "Whaat is that crap?" he spewed. "Didn't he dump her?" "Oh yes, but he wants to stay friends". I explained to Sean as if that was sufficient justification for our friend's ridiculous display. Over Starbucks that same morning, our friend tearfully reviewed the break up, and our dime store assessment was that the break up was due to her exes fear of commitment and rejection, and that he just needed "time" to be sure of her affection; he loved her that much. And then we were off to buy some beach front property in Arizona, fools that we were. Willing to by any sophmoric line presented by a guy (due to, um, yes I shall say it, DESPERATION) smart enough to realize how he could have his cake and it too, along with a dozen glazed donuts and chocolate brownies as well. Sean's observation raised my defensive caucles due to it's accuracy and disdain. He was on the verge of yet another brilliant assessment, and instead of busitng out a steno pad and writing notes, I began to get angry. Sean began "They call it a break up for a reason. When people break up, that means they stop communicating, hanging out, seeing each other for an extended period of time. " Again when I tried to correct his perspective, I was shut down instantaneously by one sentence. "Elizabeth, he basically told her she wasn't good enough to be committed to, and how she is acting validates her acceptance of his treatment, that she is however good enough to sleep with". I could not say another word. My face turned bright scarlet and I stormed away in self righteous indignation. Years have passed since I have seen Sean, but I swear if I ever run into him again I will give him a big hug and thank him for the words of wisdom it took me ten years to acknowledge and ultimately follow. However I am still trying to off load that beach fron desert property.

A right now happy ending

Several months ago I blogged about a friend who met a guy she was really crazy about; it was her first dating experience after a turbulent divorce, entitled "get off the see-saw". To review, the first few months were great until he summarily informed her he cared for her but still had feelings for someone with whom he had recently split. My very smart friend, instead of performing the requisite but destructive act of letting him off the hook and "waiting for him" , perpetuated strong self esteem and dignity by telling this guy to take a hike until he could make up his mind. To follow up, I did not have to provide any comfort or reassurance to her vacated heart. After several weeks, this ultimately wise man, (with the stark realization of life without her) vigilantly fought to win back her affection with an onslaught of emails, phone calls, flowers and unexpected "pop ins" until she relented and rejoined his companionship. Throughout this ordeal her actions were unexpectedly wise, befitting a seasoned dater rather than a novice newly thrust back into the single world. During their separation she neither pined nor sighed like a school girl, she dated, went out with friends, worked out and only shed an occasional silent tear over this loss. And when he resurfaced with his declarations of intent, she did not immediately acquiesce, but made him work for her affection and time. As she valued herself, his respect and value of her as a person followed suit. Thing are progressing nicely; he is a good man who made a small error in judgement, most likely due to fear of the unknown, and/or fear of rejection. I will leave the psycho analysis to Freud. However my friend is to be applauded, for her actions and positivity virtually prophesied her positive outcome. Oh if only the rest of the worlds relationship problems were so easily resolved.

Leave the wine/whine at home

Several years ago, I was out for drinks with an old high school friend. Over a robust Shiraz she bemoaned her fate. Dumped again by another loser with no seeming reason or rationale. It was like watching Ground Hog Day with a bad hangover. I had memorized the script and the familiar players, only with each showing I prayed for a different outcome. My gaze lowered to an expanse of cleavage and tight jeans. Interesting how some styles don't evolve or progress, though the years always do. And with each glass of wine, her eyes became less focused, her words and lips freer, and the truth finally emerged. "He told me I was different, and special. He called me all the time and made all this effort. Then for no reason, his behavior changed, I heard from him less and less, and then it was only to hang out late at night. I don't know what I did. "I asked her a simple question. "how long did you make him wait?" all the while knowing the answer. She averted her gaze, "what do you mean?". I repeated myself, and she proceeded into a ridiculous diatribe of self delusion and denial. Telling me that my views were antiquated. That if grown people wanted to have sex and the consent was reciprocated, it did not matter. And whilst I agreed, that was on the premise that both individuals had zero expectation beyond the moment, and certainly no plans for longevity. And my friend did not fit into that category. Once again she slept with a guy on the first date, Which led to this perpetuated cycle of impulsiveness, excitement, satisfaction, shame and regret. If you want a different outcome, you need to change behavior and your entire paradigm. And the plain truth prevails;, men like the chase, and men always pick the girl who makes them wait, and work. They are quite simple. After the initial meet, women are instantly categorized, and when men realize they aren't an easy catch, they either relinquish or intensify the effort. Mainly the latter as they are simple creatures who never shy away from a challenge. So when they are given what the want, instantly, the interest predictably vanishes and their attention is turned to another triumph. The pity is that my friend is almost 40 and she has still not had enough reality beatings to divert her mind set and adopt my 'antiquated views." She still drank like a fish, accepted less than she deserved, and slept with men too quickly..I had not a whit of judgement for her, rather regret for I had been in her shoes too many times and knew what she was missing. The repression of our impulsiveness, though difficult at the moment, will result in your long term goal of companionship and love. And I much prefer waking up to the same warm smile and blue eyes as opposed to a hangover and conveniently empty place where a stranger's head once lay.

the perfect day

the perfect day starts with nary an agenda, no set plans or focus, friend merge to share in the warmth of common experience and familiarity, people that know you to your core, and accept all flaws, all idosyncrancies, and embrace your differences that drive negativity to perfection, when the warm sun kisses your cheeks and comforts your sadness, when you are enveloped in a circle of acceptance and trust, with those who have helped you survive your darkest hour and driven your greatest accomplishments, whom you have known most of your life and will perpetuate that bond to your death, you have experienced the perfect day and a rare joy that only comes fleetingly, yet the memory will survive forever.

Open the door to your heart

When one experiences heartbreak and repeated disappointment in love, it becomes much easier to retreat within ourselves, to that safe area of limbo, where we are immune to the possibility of another rejection. The dark side of that safety net is isolation and confinement, where one becomes so accostomed to solidarity that the world becomes grey, lacking luster and color, mired in the perpetual cycle of isloation, where we are unable to experience, evolve and feel joy. The heart must be open to opportunity; the walls erected to protect us in truth confine us to a prison of disillusionment and sadness. This blog is for anyone who has suffered thusly.
The proverbial door to my life was sealed shut, so tight, to let in neither sun nor oxygen
Little did I know that the cold stale air was suffocating me, so accustomed was I to the cold that with each ragged intake my breathe would crackle and freeze
My own weak arms my sole embrace, my tears frozen tracks upon my pale face,
The only sound I heard was your faint knocking, and yet I could not venture forth to the dimming light
Forever was the dark night of my existence that soon only my own words would make sense
For they were all I had left to hear
But still you persisted and my unsure footing propelled me forward, to the iron gate in which I had imprisoned my self
To the detriment of peace of mind and health
And once I lifted the latch and released the lock, a whoosh of fresh air filled the vacancy, the sun and your smile they greeted me
My squinting gaze alarmed by the brightness of light and smile and touch
I did not know, behind closed doors that I had missed so much
And yet like a cornered animal I did retreat, for many before had tried and failed to defeat the demons of doubt that did consume,
for many years I did barricade myself within this room
But you gently taught me that this was not the only life I was destined to know
And you slowly taught me to let go
Still I sometimes resist for I am not fully accustomed to the gentle warrior willing to take up arms for this battle, yet not his fight
However I am thankful to you, my bravest one who still for me will ever defeat the night

What I shall recall

Once again this morning you diverted my expected crabbiness with a steaming cup of Jamaican blue mountain coffee in my favorite coffee cup and did not question my silence or lack of cognizant thought, for you know I am not a morning person
And as I opened the cabinet I noticed that you had remembered my favorite, cereal (captain crunch) my favorite lunch meat (fat free bologna-no nutritional value, but 25 calories of the best crap ever) and all the condiments were facing forward (to humor my ridiculous need for order and structure at whatever cost)
And my recollection of this sweet consistency takes me back to last night, when you were, unprompted; researching the requirements for obtaining a British passport for you remembered that I asked about it 2 weeks ago last Tuesday.
The irony is you may occasionally forget your own needs, but you never seem to forget mine
Your thoughtfulness shames me and your love it truly humbles me.
And you make sure the house is clean after the children have left, and you never complain when I feel the incessant need to remind you of all the things on our (my) to do list
You cock your head to the side and smile your silly smile, amused, and seemingly unfazed by my sometimes exhausting bent for efficiency and production
And once again I return to the thought that makes my eyes mist, taking care of mine and everyone’s desires is second nature to you
And what do I do-besides drive you crazy
You simply replied “you make me a better man”
At least I am relieved to contribute something, though I feel my effort is sorely lacking compared to yours, however, as you remind me, love is not a contest (again I am ridiculously competitive) .
How things change as we mature, yet of this realization I am sure
I have been gifted with diamonds, and driven in luxury cars and someone’s secretary remembered my birthday in 2007--how thoughtful of them
I have wasted time and effort on much less deserving men
But as the years and age will surely diminishes all recollection true
At the end of my days all there shall be left to recall is you

A slow but productive recovery

This blog pays inadvertent homage to someone very special to me; an old friend with whom I recently re-connected after a long separation. Throughout an emotional and lively discussion summarizing the last 15 years of our lives, the joy, heartbreak (which she has unfortunately experienced in spades over an extremely painful divorce) and triumph, her smile was alight with enthusiasm, and her eyes never lost their hopeful exuberance, even while teary over a particularly raw recounting. Hers was a particularly painful divorce; substance abuse being the main proponent of their demise, followed by the destructive aftermath of ruined credit, court battles and poor health at 38. The final step was moving from a multi million dollar home back to her parent's house, sharing a bedroom with her youngest daughter. The disintegration of a beloved mate, alone, from a strong and stalwart man to a paranoid, self destructive stranger would have stolen the hope from those less resolute. The entire combination of these tragic events would have put the less determined in the nut house. And yet, true to form, after the dust settled, she slowly began the healing process, returning to life with perhaps more speculation and wariness, but still able to smile, laugh, and even looking forward to the possibility of love. And there are many of us who are currently sad, or have previously felt depressed over a less substantial break up, the only effect on our hearts, not our families, safety or finances. I am not trying to diminish the pain that accompanies this loss, merely trying to put reaction in perspective. When relationships don't work out, there is usually a very good reason. And no matter your belief system, that was the way it was destined to work out. Take stock of what did not work, take time to mourn and recover, (smoke your cigarettes, eat your chocolate, drink your wine, say your prayers, whatever your therapy) and then end the suffering. You were most likely spared an ill suited match, to allow you the opportunity to grow, mature and meet your prince charming. Fight the funk! Respond to your future. You can think of a hundred reasons "not" to do something, but you only need one to do something.