Thursday, February 01, 2007

Doors close.

So. It's time I tried to get something out and online. Tonight I went and saw a movie, "Miss Potter" for those who need to know, and I enjoyed it. It made me cry, which is pretty easy these days. But perhaps, it gave me just a small kernel of hope.

On Saturday I got a phone call from Bond. "The" phone call in fact. To say I was shocked underestimates it by an order of magnitude or ten. Once again I felt that ache deep in the pit of my stomach, and that odd sensation of all of your insides falling away at the same time. I screamed and I cried. And the whole while, he was calm and matter of fact. He was matter of fact as he reeled off his reasons for never coming here to see me. He was also very matter of fact as he stated his complete lack of emotion for me. He then went on, in quite a calm way to tell me a few "truths". Things that I thought I knew, but in fact were lies. Many month old lies.

For so long I had been paranoid about things between us. In fact, I mentioned a little while ago to him that things seemed "odd" between us, and only a week ago I may have accused him of "stringing me along". But always, he assured me all was ok, and that I had nothing to worry about. It seems my sixth sense is quite well tuned - but I insisted on ignoring it. Clearly my increasingly dark entries on here, are testament to that fact.

He said that I didn't love him, because I couldn't. I apparently loved something, but it wasn't him. And he certainly had never told me he loved me. A fact that he repeated while telling me he was returning to someone in his life, that I never, for one moment, suspected. I trusted him. I trusted him more than I have ever trusted any man in my life. I always felt assured that he would never cheat on me, as I wouldn't on him. I felt uncertainty about our relationship because of other factors, but never due to jealousy. This is a far cry from my former life, where I was jealous of every woman in the world. I was proud of the way that I never second-guessed his associations with other women. He was mine. There was no doubt.

But he wasn't. And I don't know if he ever was. I can look over text messages he sent, and conversations we had online, and see that he honestly seemed to be feeling something. And I know, it couldn't have all been a lie. No matter what the excuses, here I am now, heart-broken, knowing that whatever it was, it was nothing to him. It seemed to be attention from me he wanted, and perhaps that got too tedious. It seemed that he preferred a person whom I thought he disliked, to me.

I feel like a fool. The fool who believed in a long-distance love that could survive all trials. The fool who believed what she was told, perhaps because her heart wanted to believe. I am the fool, who proudly spoke of her amazing boyfriend in foreign lands who would ring her daily, and say that he missed her and wanted to feel her against him. I am also the fool, who began contemplating what I would do, should this continue. Reading up on how to get a working Visa, and just what one has to consider when moving around the globe. Looking at jobs available, and potential incomes. Contemplating what I would do with imnvestments and property in this country. Yes, maybe my planning got ahead of reality. But after many, many months of daily phone calls, and conversations that alluded to all sorts of a potential future, it didn't seem like it was out of the realms of possibility to be considering such things. I am a planner. I like to organise. But all my planning was for nought.

The joke, and not a funny one at that, was on me. But what was my crime? I fell for a man who embodied so much that I admired. He was a man that made me feel sexy and smart, and forced me to live up to the abilities that I sometimes doubt I have. He was enticing and intelligent, and so many things that I am not, but want in a partner. He was different to me in so many obvious ways, but strangely, seemed to feel so right. Corny as it might sound, but he felt like the complement to me.

I know I will survive this. I have survived worse, and at least now I have medication and a therapist on hand. But, sometimes you just don't want to HAVE to survive it. Living through the pain and hurt, and the distrust of people, and having to start it all over again is too tiring. I don't want to hear empty platitudes from well-meaning people. There isn't necessarily someone out there for me. Yes, yes, I know I am strong and I will get through this. And yes, maybe he wasn't good enough for me. All these and more I have heard, and know I will hear repeatedly. But none of them quite ring true yet.

Beatrix Potter decided at the age of 20 that she would never marry. She lost her loving fiance at age 32 after a relatively whirlwind romance. And then finally married at the age of 40. My life has never been a fairy-tale, and with 36 only days away, maybe there is no prince out there for me. But I don't want to give up, because I know that I have so much love to give someone, should they give me the chance. I want to believe that like Beatrix Potter, who despaired of love, and then made a happy life regardless, that I can have a content life, and love will come.

I am blessed that when I broke news of my latest heartbreak, friends rang with their words of love. After months and months of wanting love from Bond, here I had friends around me, all telling me how much they loved me and were there for me. I know that it almost seems selfish to desire such wonderful and loving friends, and also the love of one person of my own. But I can't help but want it all. I have never really felt that anything I have achieved is that special, since I always assumed that I could do much of what I wanted - if I really wanted it. And yet, I really want this, and it continues to elude me.

This week has not been my most glamorous. I have worn no makeup - it feels like too much effort to put it on - and for what purpose? No high heels - why bother? My house is a sty, and my life feels like it is just lurching along at the moment. I am allowing myself to be sad for a while, because I know me, and I know that only too soon I will begin to search again for somebody to love me.

But I wish I could see life differently. I wish I could simply enjoy each day, and see beauty in simple things. I wish I could want to live this life for the treasure that it is, and not feel that it is a struggle. I wish that I could be happy easily, and that my heart could be allowed to soar. I wish.

5 comments:

Sarah said...

For the record, I think this is a beautiful post. Adversity seems to bring that out in us.

I'll leave it at that. I don't want to cliche all over your comments, but know I am thinking them :)

a giRL liKe mE said...

Ouch, Cath.

I agree with Sarah - I was at my most profound when I was heartbroken. And my blog was always so much more popular; perhaps it's the whole roadkill thing.

"He said that I didn't love him, because I couldn't. I apparently loved something, but it wasn't him" - what is he, a psychologist?

But at least you got an explanation. I know it's heartbreaking, but he was honest. Lots of guys would just run away, lie or shrug their shoulders on the way out the door.

Hope you are coping OK.

pinkjellybaby said...

ooo that's a hard one :(
if it's any consolation, a lot of people find it hard to get through the day, for various reasons. So you are very much not alone on that one

londongirl said...

Good god. Poor you. It's so hard to know how to react when you feel like the rug's been pulled from under your feet.

I hope the spa thing makes you feel better, even if only slightly.

xylorimba said...

I'm very sorry for you Cath, but don't abandon all hope of long-distance relationships working out. Sometimes they do, and sometimes they don't, but isn't that the same as all relationships?

Keep your head up,

Bradley