It's not me, It's you.
If you've ever seen the movie Runaway Bride, you would understand that I totally identify with Julia Roberts, the ever adaptable bride who accommodates every husband that she decides to marry. At the end, I remember that she cooks eggs the way she likes and looks at Richard Gere and says this is the way I like my eggs.
I was falling in love with you. And I LOVED that feeling. I went to bed with a smile and I woke up with a smile on my face. I didn't want to let go of this feeling. What was this feeling exactly? I loved the way you kissed my neck, touched my hip when we cozied up to watch TV, how you got turned on with my "hippie rebellious union organizing streak", loved that you encouraged me to stand up to my mother about my white streak of hair.
I hated that you couldn't let go and allow yourself to fall in love with me. I hated that you couldn't take responsibility for my feelings. I hated that your previous dysfunctional relationships have defined what a relationship should be for you, that it involved some passionate chasing after, never attaining, and groveling after some woman (who by the way would end up cheating on you). Maybe that was exciting to you. Maybe that feeling of love you had for those women was really a feeling of longing for something you couldn't have. I hated that you didn't realize that what I offered you was a nurturing, safe place to experience a love that would've allowed you to trust and be yourself and create a loving and wonderful relationship between us.
You hurt me when you said that the women you fell in love with were "brilliant" and the smartest people you ever met. You hurt me when you didn't want to meet my friends. You hurt me when you promised a weekend away together but never planned it. You hurt me when you said that spending time with me was not any different than spending time with yourself. As if, I was competing with you!
I've discovered through this experience (and really what I already know) how amazingly well supported I am. My friends are phenomenal women who have spent the last few days listening, caring, loving, holding my hand and easing the pain in my heart and empowering me to get up, move on and realize the most important thing--- that this isn't about me, but about you. It seems like some angry retort but it's so funny, I'm not angry. I just feel, well, sad for you. Sad that you have such potential to love and not spend enough time in your heart but spend all that time in your head analyzing and comparing and being confused. I suppose I could be angry that you broke my heart but I know that's a part of life and knowing the things that I've had to get over in the past, it's not even worth getting angry. I've discovered how human I am. I couldn't eat feeling nauseous and sick over losing you and my fantasy of what our life was going to be together. But I've discovered how almost ridiculously resilient I am. That a week later, I put my makeup on, throw on a cute outfit, and have fun with friends. I look forward to a beautiful healing, adventurous and spiritual vacation coming in one week. I think about how there might actually be another man, that will be similar to you but love me the way I should be loved-- with an open heart and wrap me so securely in that love.
I was falling in love with you. And I LOVED that feeling. I went to bed with a smile and I woke up with a smile on my face. I didn't want to let go of this feeling. What was this feeling exactly? I loved the way you kissed my neck, touched my hip when we cozied up to watch TV, how you got turned on with my "hippie rebellious union organizing streak", loved that you encouraged me to stand up to my mother about my white streak of hair.
I hated that you couldn't let go and allow yourself to fall in love with me. I hated that you couldn't take responsibility for my feelings. I hated that your previous dysfunctional relationships have defined what a relationship should be for you, that it involved some passionate chasing after, never attaining, and groveling after some woman (who by the way would end up cheating on you). Maybe that was exciting to you. Maybe that feeling of love you had for those women was really a feeling of longing for something you couldn't have. I hated that you didn't realize that what I offered you was a nurturing, safe place to experience a love that would've allowed you to trust and be yourself and create a loving and wonderful relationship between us.
You hurt me when you said that the women you fell in love with were "brilliant" and the smartest people you ever met. You hurt me when you didn't want to meet my friends. You hurt me when you promised a weekend away together but never planned it. You hurt me when you said that spending time with me was not any different than spending time with yourself. As if, I was competing with you!
I've discovered through this experience (and really what I already know) how amazingly well supported I am. My friends are phenomenal women who have spent the last few days listening, caring, loving, holding my hand and easing the pain in my heart and empowering me to get up, move on and realize the most important thing--- that this isn't about me, but about you. It seems like some angry retort but it's so funny, I'm not angry. I just feel, well, sad for you. Sad that you have such potential to love and not spend enough time in your heart but spend all that time in your head analyzing and comparing and being confused. I suppose I could be angry that you broke my heart but I know that's a part of life and knowing the things that I've had to get over in the past, it's not even worth getting angry. I've discovered how human I am. I couldn't eat feeling nauseous and sick over losing you and my fantasy of what our life was going to be together. But I've discovered how almost ridiculously resilient I am. That a week later, I put my makeup on, throw on a cute outfit, and have fun with friends. I look forward to a beautiful healing, adventurous and spiritual vacation coming in one week. I think about how there might actually be another man, that will be similar to you but love me the way I should be loved-- with an open heart and wrap me so securely in that love.