regrets and giving up hope
It's so hard not to keep saying "if only I had...." and "if only I hadn't..." And so hard not to blame myself for wrecking a relationship by not listening to someone's needs, by not being an equal, responsible adult. And harder still to believe what X said: that we will not share a romantic relationship again, ever. To believe that he won't be able to trust me again. To believe that the closeness we shared is not enough for him to risk it again. And I'm even able to be angry with him for not believing in me, for not forgiving me. But all this -- analysis, rumination, brooding, thinking, feeling -- changes nothing. He's out of my life, and won't be a part of it in the future, certainly not the way I'd wanted him to be. He said, several times, that I'd done "too little, too late." I don't think I believe that it's ever too little, too late, myself, but this time, I'm choosing to hear him. He believes it, and I can't change what he believes. And I have to accept it. Dammit.
Maybe we'll be able to be friends some day -- I refuse to write him off indefinitely, because I do miss the friendship, too -- but for the forseeable future, we won't be in contact much. I don't want to be ruled by fear of pain, but in truth, I am afraid of the pain. I don't want to get up tomorrow morning because I'm afraid it will hurt too much. And I have to do it anyway. And I have to keep asking for help from my friends (in this case, I need to find someone to meet for coffee before work) so that I can keep going. I'm scared to death I won't make it, that I'll never stop hurting and feeling like this, that I'll be alone forever. And I promised myself and my friends that I won't give up this time, so I have to keep trying.
X has chronic fatigue, and pushes himself constantly to get things done, to keep moving. I know it galled him to see me giving in to depression and making excuses for not trying harder. I got into the habit of being passive, and it was tremendously damaging. I was also catastrophically self-centered, and when he finally began to voice his needs, I felt afraid and threatened, and didn't listen. For my own sake, I'm doing my best to listen carefully to those around me now. That's who I want to be.
I was very shaken by the end of our phone conversation today, and seriously contemplated going home for the day. Instead, I called my brother, went over to his office and cried on him for a half-hour, then came back to work. If any of my promises to myself about responsibility and reliability are to have meaning, I have to stick by them now, especially, rather than give in to the temptation to make excuses for myself. Later today, I asked my manager to help me decide what corners to cut so that I can get a draft of a doc. out by tomorrow night (the fact that *he's* stretched too thin and hasn't read the doc despite multiple promises to do so is unfortunate, but that one, I'm not taking responsibility for).
I'm glad I made an extra therapy appointment this week. I was assuming I'd be feeling wrecked because of the move, anyway. Sigh.
The only bright note (and it's not all that bright) is that X and I have communicated more today than in the last 5 months. And it feels oddly good to be in touch again. But it's still rather dangerous. I'm not over the break-up. Despite knowing better, I've already tried to prove I'd changed and fixed some of the broken stuff. I can't even sustain a friendship with that element of asking for approval in it. I don't want to plead with him to recognize the work I've done, to believe that I would not repeat my mistakes. Even if it's true, which I believe it is, that kind of imbalance is lethal. I know I still haven't let go. I still have a creeping hope that his new relationship crashes and burns and he comes back to me... and I have to step on that creeping hope and get on with healing. Yeah, I still believe that anything could happen someday -- but not now, and now is where I have to live.
Maybe we'll be able to be friends some day -- I refuse to write him off indefinitely, because I do miss the friendship, too -- but for the forseeable future, we won't be in contact much. I don't want to be ruled by fear of pain, but in truth, I am afraid of the pain. I don't want to get up tomorrow morning because I'm afraid it will hurt too much. And I have to do it anyway. And I have to keep asking for help from my friends (in this case, I need to find someone to meet for coffee before work) so that I can keep going. I'm scared to death I won't make it, that I'll never stop hurting and feeling like this, that I'll be alone forever. And I promised myself and my friends that I won't give up this time, so I have to keep trying.
X has chronic fatigue, and pushes himself constantly to get things done, to keep moving. I know it galled him to see me giving in to depression and making excuses for not trying harder. I got into the habit of being passive, and it was tremendously damaging. I was also catastrophically self-centered, and when he finally began to voice his needs, I felt afraid and threatened, and didn't listen. For my own sake, I'm doing my best to listen carefully to those around me now. That's who I want to be.
I was very shaken by the end of our phone conversation today, and seriously contemplated going home for the day. Instead, I called my brother, went over to his office and cried on him for a half-hour, then came back to work. If any of my promises to myself about responsibility and reliability are to have meaning, I have to stick by them now, especially, rather than give in to the temptation to make excuses for myself. Later today, I asked my manager to help me decide what corners to cut so that I can get a draft of a doc. out by tomorrow night (the fact that *he's* stretched too thin and hasn't read the doc despite multiple promises to do so is unfortunate, but that one, I'm not taking responsibility for).
I'm glad I made an extra therapy appointment this week. I was assuming I'd be feeling wrecked because of the move, anyway. Sigh.
The only bright note (and it's not all that bright) is that X and I have communicated more today than in the last 5 months. And it feels oddly good to be in touch again. But it's still rather dangerous. I'm not over the break-up. Despite knowing better, I've already tried to prove I'd changed and fixed some of the broken stuff. I can't even sustain a friendship with that element of asking for approval in it. I don't want to plead with him to recognize the work I've done, to believe that I would not repeat my mistakes. Even if it's true, which I believe it is, that kind of imbalance is lethal. I know I still haven't let go. I still have a creeping hope that his new relationship crashes and burns and he comes back to me... and I have to step on that creeping hope and get on with healing. Yeah, I still believe that anything could happen someday -- but not now, and now is where I have to live.