My heart is heavy.
I miss Jedi.
(I don’t know if that name is even suitable anymore.)
It hurts so much; and for what?
His disrespect was clear.
I need to operate with that in mind.
Be thankful for rain, it washes away the debris that isn’t meant to stick.
Sometimes life pushes us down because there’s something we’re supposed to find something down here.
OR at least that’s what I’ve heard and keep telling myself, but for the life of me I just can’t seem to sugar coat all this shit or even just turn it into fertilizer.
I’m tired. I didn’t sleep last night and I don’t know if I can tonight. It’s getting harder and harder to sleep without him, but getting more time in his arms just doesn’t seem to be in the cards right now.
I got spoiled having him completely to myself last week in Florida and unfortunately, I think that was expected to suffice longer and maybe it would have had I known. I tried to give him down time and keep to myself as much as possible since it was a work trip. We stayed in, instead of going out, which was totally fine, because I was in great company. I stuck to the agenda, but I could still feel his anxiety rising. I noticed his drinking increasing, but vacay. I drove us to the airport last Friday to try to help alleviate it in whatever way I could, but going through security seemed to dissipate that. I thought maybe it was being away from his boys, but when we got home, it still didn’t seem to alleviate.
Yes, I understand all the circumstances were back but it just seemed different, he felt distant, like he was checked out. Like last Saturday with the Craigslist fiasco. I tried to recover the time we had together by pulling everyone in over a shared family dinner, engaged and giggly. I actually remember being proud of myself. Wait… am I delusional about what I bring to the table, literally?
He said he felt better after some down time with me at my place on Monday. Then, he went back to juggling the week, while I was recovering from a medical procedure. He even fixed a pretty major plumbing issue for me before he had to rescue the boys. He was busy and I was lonely, but it just felt like …intentional distance. Admittedly, I needed him more than I conveyed and that is my own fault, but his boys needed him more and recovery isn’t going as planned. I tried to deal with my own shit because I genuinely thought he was getting maxxed out. Also, Im not good at saying, “I need you.”
Yesterday was his youngest’s birthday and I couldn’t be there, not just because of the procedure recovery, but because they were having a “family dinner” and integration is a tricky process for all parties involved. I know that it was harder for him than it was for me, I was trying to be supportive, but after becoming priivy to all the conversations he and his ex shared over the upcoming birthday, her near death experience…. (even as the nurse was trying to find him to update him on me) I reached my max in insecurity and my girl brain spun up and in a frustrated effort to brush off anymore unnecessary worry on my part and anxiety on his, I was curt, misspoke via text and created a whole other problem. One in which, his response, completely rubbed me the wrong way and left me raw. So now, even with two days off from work, he’s seemingly still without “downtime” and I’m beginning to suspect that I may be more trouble than I’m worth to him.
I feel like my insecurity would better mend with his presence and his anxiety would better mend without mine?
What the fuck does that even mean?
It’s really hard to cope with things having to be so complicated when I desire such truly, simple things.
Are we making it more complicated than it needs to be? Are things complicated because these circumstances are too unreasonable to navigate?
Or is there something else down here I need to see?
“So even if the hot loneliness is there, and for 1.6 seconds we sit with that restlessness when yesterday we couldn’t sit for even one, that’s the journey of the warrior.”
~from “When Things Fall Apart” by Pena Chodron
Men are analyzers.
When we’re not feeling our best or something isn’t working, we try to figure out what’s wrong. We think the situation through. We calm ourselves down and look at problems systematically. We look for root causes or missing parts or broken pieces. Then, after identifying the cause of the issue, we usually come up with some sort of solution.
We decide, after thinking on it for a day or so, that we need a new fan belt, more vitamin C, or some vodka and a 50 dollar bet on the number six horse. We apply the solution and, before we know it, the car is running great, our sinuses have cleared up, and we’ve blown off the steam we needed to blow off. Problem fixed—except for the hangover.
Issues start when we try to approach our relationship problems in the same way, when we try to project our way of doing things onto the women in our lives.
It might look a little like this:
We come home after work or go to her place after school. The moment we walk through the door, we notice her foul mood. Frustration is built up in her furrowed brow. She is a storm cloud ready to crack. Even the room seems to have darkened with her anger. Her wrathful silence is so foreboding that we find it repulsive. A primal part of us might even be a little afraid at these powerful and dark emotions.
“What’s her problem?” is the first question that pops into our heads.
We immediately go into problem-solving mode. We assume there is a specific cause. We assume there is a singular issue that can be addressed that will fix the situation. We rack our brains, but can’t think of anything. Did we forget a birthday? Forget to call? Not notice a new haircut? We can’t figure it out, but no matter how much we ask her what’s the matter, she constantly tells us it’s nothing.
Why does she have to be so complicated?
We sit with her in silence. Maybe make a few more attempts to find out what the problem is. Maybe she lashes out at us because we keep asking, and we don’t really know what’s going on. Maybe we make the terribly silly mistake of telling her to calm down. Eventually we walk out, telling her we’ll come back when she figures out what her issue is and can talk it out like an adult.
At this point, we’ve not only failed our woman, we’ve failed ourselves.
We’ve wrongly assumed her situation is the same as a bike with a broken chain. We’ve wrongly assumed it’s as simple as finding the right piece we need to fix it. We’ve wrongly assumed, like all the other problems in our lives, that it’s our time to take control of the situation.
Like a ship’s captain that finds his vessel has strayed off course, we attempt to change her direction. We’ve tried to steer her, but our woman is not a ship. We are not her captain. She’s the ocean that we’re sailing in—vast and mighty. If we try to wrestle her immense waves we will lose every time. We will drown. She might not even know she’s doing it, but she will swallow us.
Our job is not to be the captain, or even the ship. Our job is to be the rock standing strong on the shores of the ocean that we love. Our only job is to be there, and to be there for no reason other than our love for her waters.
Like any other body of water, there will be days when she crashes against us. Wave after wave, it might feel like the ocean will never again be calm. When her tide is high we may feel like we’re about to drown. Sometimes she hits us so hard we think we might crack. But if we remain full and abundant in our love for her, and constantly present in our masculinity, it will pass.
Her waters will quiet. She will once again lovingly caress us, her waves gently lapping at our ankles. She will completely open her heart in response to our stubborn love. She will trust in our strength, and feel safe in showing us the depths of her dark and healing waters. She’ll let us dive into her completely and we will taste her salty kiss. She’ll show us just how much we have to learn from the mysterious gifts she has to give us.
Until, of course, another storm brews on the horizon. But, our job as the rock never ends.
So if you cannot love her stormy weather as much as you love her sunrise , she isn’t the woman for you. If you cannot find humour in the situation and her need to close up, lash out, or walk away, you’re not the man for her.
If when her waters get rough you cannot give your unconditional love to her, you’re treading in an ocean too deep and powerful for your swimming abilities. It is better for you both if you find a smaller pool to dip your timid feet in, and for her to find a man willing to embrace her inherently wild and endlessly passionate nature.
Author: Michael Giorgi