A bitter pill...
Finally got the motion detector lights and new locks installed and, tired of traveling back and forth to my parents, decided it was time to leave fear behind and reclaim my life. Easier said than done. Unfortunately, my son, still rattled and comfortably ensconced at his father's, and my daughter, still plagued by nightmares didn't feel the same way. So I went back home alone.
Wednesday night wasn't too bad - a little sleep deprived from a week and a half on the couch in my parent's den, I went to bed early and slept straight through til that 4 AM wall I have yet to get past. But the second night, returning to my quiet, empty house after drinks with a friend and just a wee bit drunk, the weight of dealing with everything alone was overwhelming and I reached out to someone who once could make everything seem better with a simple hug. He was patient and sympathetic and I was finally able to sleep, clinging to my phone like a lifeline.
I didn't realize I would still be alone on Friday night. With no plans the evening stretched out interminably. I tried to keep busy but a detective's suggestion that new information uncovered regarding a purse gone missing exactly one week before the break in indicated the "invasion" was not the perpetrator's first nocturnal visit to my house, had me jumping at every sound and sent my imagination into overdrive. Desperately needing someone, I reached for the phone again.
We had gone nearly a year without contact when he sent me a text out of the blue last fall. We got together a few times. He said he missed me and wanted me to be a part of his life, promised he wasn't going to disappear on me again. I didn't really believe him but I hoped it was true because I had missed him too. Over the winter we did establish an awkward friendship and though lately it seemed I was the one who always initiated contact and it had been a couple of months since we'd last seen one another, deep down, I always thought if I really needed him, he would be there for me. I was wrong.
Though he was sweet and told me to check in with him, I had the feeling they were just words. It dawned on me that though he had learned of the incident from my lj post, he hadn't called or texted to see how I was. He hadn't called or texted to see how I was holding up after the previous night's drunken ramblings. I hadn't heard from him in a couple of months - not even on my birthday. He did say he doesn't know how to interact with me anymore because I'm always telling him I hate him - it's true I have said it a few times, but not often and he knows I don't mean it, it's code for I miss you or I need you - words I've never been comfortable saying. And besides the last time we were together we had a good time and parted on good terms, we texted regularly for weeks and I hate you was never uttered, I thought we were finally getting to where we really could be good friends and then...nothing. I'm confused. I'm not sure what last fall was all about - quite frankly, I don't understand him at all. I thought I did long ago but I'm not even sure about that anymore. I suspect now I never will, feeling foolish and a bit stupid because it hadn't occurred to me that he had cooled to the point where an assault on my family had so little significance, I texted a late night apology and promised I won't bother him again. It's going to be tough though- my plans for the evening having just been canceled, I'm facing another long weekend night home alone. And this time truly alone, his background presence had been a comfort for many months, and I feel like someone just cut my safety line while I'm clinging to a cliff.
I did learn one thing though - pain, the kind that comes from acute embarrassment, rejection and heavy sadness is a good cure for fear.
But I don't recommend it.
Wednesday night wasn't too bad - a little sleep deprived from a week and a half on the couch in my parent's den, I went to bed early and slept straight through til that 4 AM wall I have yet to get past. But the second night, returning to my quiet, empty house after drinks with a friend and just a wee bit drunk, the weight of dealing with everything alone was overwhelming and I reached out to someone who once could make everything seem better with a simple hug. He was patient and sympathetic and I was finally able to sleep, clinging to my phone like a lifeline.
I didn't realize I would still be alone on Friday night. With no plans the evening stretched out interminably. I tried to keep busy but a detective's suggestion that new information uncovered regarding a purse gone missing exactly one week before the break in indicated the "invasion" was not the perpetrator's first nocturnal visit to my house, had me jumping at every sound and sent my imagination into overdrive. Desperately needing someone, I reached for the phone again.
We had gone nearly a year without contact when he sent me a text out of the blue last fall. We got together a few times. He said he missed me and wanted me to be a part of his life, promised he wasn't going to disappear on me again. I didn't really believe him but I hoped it was true because I had missed him too. Over the winter we did establish an awkward friendship and though lately it seemed I was the one who always initiated contact and it had been a couple of months since we'd last seen one another, deep down, I always thought if I really needed him, he would be there for me. I was wrong.
Though he was sweet and told me to check in with him, I had the feeling they were just words. It dawned on me that though he had learned of the incident from my lj post, he hadn't called or texted to see how I was. He hadn't called or texted to see how I was holding up after the previous night's drunken ramblings. I hadn't heard from him in a couple of months - not even on my birthday. He did say he doesn't know how to interact with me anymore because I'm always telling him I hate him - it's true I have said it a few times, but not often and he knows I don't mean it, it's code for I miss you or I need you - words I've never been comfortable saying. And besides the last time we were together we had a good time and parted on good terms, we texted regularly for weeks and I hate you was never uttered, I thought we were finally getting to where we really could be good friends and then...nothing. I'm confused. I'm not sure what last fall was all about - quite frankly, I don't understand him at all. I thought I did long ago but I'm not even sure about that anymore. I suspect now I never will, feeling foolish and a bit stupid because it hadn't occurred to me that he had cooled to the point where an assault on my family had so little significance, I texted a late night apology and promised I won't bother him again. It's going to be tough though- my plans for the evening having just been canceled, I'm facing another long weekend night home alone. And this time truly alone, his background presence had been a comfort for many months, and I feel like someone just cut my safety line while I'm clinging to a cliff.
I did learn one thing though - pain, the kind that comes from acute embarrassment, rejection and heavy sadness is a good cure for fear.
But I don't recommend it.