I'm now on day 3 of not making contact with my ex. I know. It doesn't seem like a long time. Especially for a girl who left Portland over a month ago saying she wanted no more contact.
Turns out, although a part of me knew that was what was best for me, another part, the part that was driving, couldn't abide it. So I overrode it. I called, I emailed, I texted.
Not surprisingly, I heard only the bare minimum back from him.
Then finally, this week, I realized that I could keep giving all my love and my energy away to him, but only at great personal cost and pretty big cost to my kids, too.
I realized this not in my mind or my heart, but experientially. Yesterday after savasana (final relaxation pose at the end of my yoga practice), I was having all these realizations about love, and my first instinct was to share them with the New Englander. Call him up, as I had done last week when the same thing happened. But the result of me leaving him that voicemail was for him to tell me that he hadn't finished listening to it because it made him emotional at work, but he would. And that's it. That's all I've heard about it.
This time I didn't call or text or email, mainly because I got busy with other things, and then, as I wrote about yesterday, I poured my energy into an email reaching out to someone about the next phase of my career.
Then yesterday afternoon, I tried to take my daughter mountain biking at CamRock. I really thought she'd love it, but she was pretty miserable. Super frustrated. But instead of getting frustrated myself, I stayed open and kind, and it made a HUGE difference to both of us.
Aha! I thought, late last night. If I don't give all my love away to someone who doesn't reciprocate, I will have more to give to my children. Hooray for that!
It will also please you to know that these realizations had a soundtrack, and that soundtrack featured a song by none other than Bon Jovi:
This ain't a song for the broken-hearted
No silent prayer for the faith-departed
I ain't gonna be just a face in the crowd
You're gonna hear my voice
When I shout it out loud
It's my life
It's now or never
I ain't gonna live forever
I just want to live while I'm alive
(It's my life)
My heart is like an open highway
Like Frankie said
I did it my way
I just wanna live while I'm alive
It's my life
That it is. And today I'm feeling a renewed commitment to live it for me, for my kids, and eventually, with someone capable of reciprocating my love...
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
Monday, September 29, 2014
Have a Little Faith in Me
This morning after my yoga practice, I got in my car and this song was playing:
When the road gets dark
And you can no longer see
Just let my love throw a spark
And have a little faith in me
And when the tears you cry
Are all you can believe
Just give these loving arms a try
And have a little faith in me
And
Have a little faith in me
Have a little faith in me
Have a little faith in me
Have a little faith in me
When your secret heart
Cannot speak so easily
Come here darlin'
From a whisper start
To have a little faith in me
And when your back's against the wall
Just turn around and you will see
I will catch, i will catch your fall baby
Just have a little faith in me
Well, I've been loving you for such a long time girl
Expecting nothing in return
Just for you to have a little faith in me
You see time, time is our friend
'Cause for us there is no end
And all you gotta do is have a little faith in me
I said I will hold you up, i will hold you up
Your love gives me strength enough
So have a little faith in me
Instead of feeling sad that having faith in my last partner didn't turn out so well, I considered it an invitation to have a little more faith in myself. Instead of investing time and energy in the past, I decided to take steps today toward my future. I sent another email out in hopes that as I become more able to articulate my vision, I will find the people in a position to help me realize it.
And it felt pretty darn good...
When the road gets dark
And you can no longer see
Just let my love throw a spark
And have a little faith in me
And when the tears you cry
Are all you can believe
Just give these loving arms a try
And have a little faith in me
And
Have a little faith in me
Have a little faith in me
Have a little faith in me
Have a little faith in me
When your secret heart
Cannot speak so easily
Come here darlin'
From a whisper start
To have a little faith in me
And when your back's against the wall
Just turn around and you will see
I will catch, i will catch your fall baby
Just have a little faith in me
Well, I've been loving you for such a long time girl
Expecting nothing in return
Just for you to have a little faith in me
You see time, time is our friend
'Cause for us there is no end
And all you gotta do is have a little faith in me
I said I will hold you up, i will hold you up
Your love gives me strength enough
So have a little faith in me
Instead of feeling sad that having faith in my last partner didn't turn out so well, I considered it an invitation to have a little more faith in myself. Instead of investing time and energy in the past, I decided to take steps today toward my future. I sent another email out in hopes that as I become more able to articulate my vision, I will find the people in a position to help me realize it.
And it felt pretty darn good...
Sunday, September 28, 2014
Below My Feet
It's Sunday today, and I'm up early to head to a group yoga practice that starts at 7am.
Actually, I'm up earlier than I need to be for that, and when I awoke this morning, my feet were calling out for attention. At about 5:45am, I decided to listen to my what my body was asking for, and grabbed my foot cream off my dresser and gave them a good rub down.
As I rubbed, this song entered my still-sleepy consciousness:
You were cold as the blood through your bones
And the light which led us from our chosen homes
Well I was lost
And now I sleep
Sleep the hours and that I can't weep
When all I knew was steeped in blackened holes
I was lost
Keep the earth below my feet
For all my sweat, my blood runs weak
Let me learn from where I have been
Keep my eyes to serve and my hands to learn
Keep my eyes to serve and my hands to learn
I feel like this is a good song for a Sunday. The closest I come to organized religion is a led group yoga practice, but the lyrics of this song really resemble a prayer:
And I was still
I was under your spell
When I was told by Jesus all was well
So all must be well
Just give me time
You know your desires and mine
Wrap my flesh in ivy and in twine
For I must be well
I find them comforting, too. I've been having this thing with my feet on and off since I got back from Maine. I'm not sure exactly what the message is, but I have a pretty good idea.
Here's some background:
Before I went to Maine, I was super excited to give the New Englander a foot rub. He loves it when I do that, and I love doing things that make him feel good. But -- and I think I wrote about this before -- I found out right before we got there that he'd slept with someone else since the last time we saw each other. We hadn't been exclusively dating, but still. Here I was putting my life on hold for him -- by my own choice, mind you -- but I felt betrayed when I heard this news.
So we got there, and on night number two, in the tent in Acadia, when I woke up in the middle of the night, I had these lurid fantasies unlike anything I've ever had before. In some of them, instead of giving him a foot rub, I was twisting his toes as if they were silly putty. Making them long and twisty and then pulling them off. It was a really strange experience. One I've never had before or since.
I did not, of course, act on these fantasies. Instead, after we got up, I told him I wanted to talk and as we sat by the ocean, I told him how I felt.
Flash forward a couple of days: We're back in Portland. We're connecting again, both as a twosome and as a foursome. I decide to give him a foot rub, but I only get through one foot before I need to help the kids with something. By the time I got back to him to do the second foot, said foot was screaming for my loving touch.
That's exactly how both of my feet were feeling when I woke up this morning. Not only did I not get a foot rub in Portland, but it's been a very, very long time since anyone has touched me in that "come here, let me love you up" kind of way that is more about nurture than sex.
I think one of the reasons why I'm having such a hard time right now is that I'm finally feeling a lot of the feelings I denied in service of convincing myself that my relationship with the New Englander was working or could work. And that includes being touched -- and I don't mean sexually -- without having to ask for it.
This afternoon I got to spend a little bit of time alone in the woods -- this time sans bike -- and when I found myself going down the familiar road of thinking about what was or what could be, I stopped myself, and instead tried to release him.
Speaking of prayer, I realized in that moment that I don't feel ready to release the New Englander. I wish I did, I'm sure most people in my life wish I did, but I don't. It's not like saying over and over again that I'm doing something means it happens.
So instead, I asked for the willingness to release him, and that felt a lot more productive:
Keep the earth below my feet
For all my sweat, my blood runs weak
Let me learn from where I have been
So keep my eyes to serve, my hands to learn
Well keep my eyes to serve, my hands to learn
Yes, please. Help me learn from where I have been...
Postscript: Speaking of learning, I saw a friend and fellow yoga teacher the morning after I wrote this. She was teaching a class that involved footrubs, so I told her about my experience of waking up with my feet crying out for some love. She said "Yep, this is the time of year for Vata. Lots of air. Lots of trouble staying grounded on the Earth."
Fascinating!
Actually, I'm up earlier than I need to be for that, and when I awoke this morning, my feet were calling out for attention. At about 5:45am, I decided to listen to my what my body was asking for, and grabbed my foot cream off my dresser and gave them a good rub down.
As I rubbed, this song entered my still-sleepy consciousness:
You were cold as the blood through your bones
And the light which led us from our chosen homes
Well I was lost
And now I sleep
Sleep the hours and that I can't weep
When all I knew was steeped in blackened holes
I was lost
Keep the earth below my feet
For all my sweat, my blood runs weak
Let me learn from where I have been
Keep my eyes to serve and my hands to learn
Keep my eyes to serve and my hands to learn
I feel like this is a good song for a Sunday. The closest I come to organized religion is a led group yoga practice, but the lyrics of this song really resemble a prayer:
And I was still
I was under your spell
When I was told by Jesus all was well
So all must be well
Just give me time
You know your desires and mine
Wrap my flesh in ivy and in twine
For I must be well
I find them comforting, too. I've been having this thing with my feet on and off since I got back from Maine. I'm not sure exactly what the message is, but I have a pretty good idea.
Here's some background:
Before I went to Maine, I was super excited to give the New Englander a foot rub. He loves it when I do that, and I love doing things that make him feel good. But -- and I think I wrote about this before -- I found out right before we got there that he'd slept with someone else since the last time we saw each other. We hadn't been exclusively dating, but still. Here I was putting my life on hold for him -- by my own choice, mind you -- but I felt betrayed when I heard this news.
So we got there, and on night number two, in the tent in Acadia, when I woke up in the middle of the night, I had these lurid fantasies unlike anything I've ever had before. In some of them, instead of giving him a foot rub, I was twisting his toes as if they were silly putty. Making them long and twisty and then pulling them off. It was a really strange experience. One I've never had before or since.
I did not, of course, act on these fantasies. Instead, after we got up, I told him I wanted to talk and as we sat by the ocean, I told him how I felt.
Flash forward a couple of days: We're back in Portland. We're connecting again, both as a twosome and as a foursome. I decide to give him a foot rub, but I only get through one foot before I need to help the kids with something. By the time I got back to him to do the second foot, said foot was screaming for my loving touch.
That's exactly how both of my feet were feeling when I woke up this morning. Not only did I not get a foot rub in Portland, but it's been a very, very long time since anyone has touched me in that "come here, let me love you up" kind of way that is more about nurture than sex.
I think one of the reasons why I'm having such a hard time right now is that I'm finally feeling a lot of the feelings I denied in service of convincing myself that my relationship with the New Englander was working or could work. And that includes being touched -- and I don't mean sexually -- without having to ask for it.
This afternoon I got to spend a little bit of time alone in the woods -- this time sans bike -- and when I found myself going down the familiar road of thinking about what was or what could be, I stopped myself, and instead tried to release him.
Speaking of prayer, I realized in that moment that I don't feel ready to release the New Englander. I wish I did, I'm sure most people in my life wish I did, but I don't. It's not like saying over and over again that I'm doing something means it happens.
So instead, I asked for the willingness to release him, and that felt a lot more productive:
Keep the earth below my feet
For all my sweat, my blood runs weak
Let me learn from where I have been
So keep my eyes to serve, my hands to learn
Well keep my eyes to serve, my hands to learn
Yes, please. Help me learn from where I have been...
Postscript: Speaking of learning, I saw a friend and fellow yoga teacher the morning after I wrote this. She was teaching a class that involved footrubs, so I told her about my experience of waking up with my feet crying out for some love. She said "Yep, this is the time of year for Vata. Lots of air. Lots of trouble staying grounded on the Earth."
Fascinating!
Saturday, September 27, 2014
Do I Wanna Know?
I heard this song for the first time yesterday in the car:
Have you got color in your cheeks?
Do you ever get that fear that you can't shift
The type that sticks around like something in your teeth?
Are there some aces up your sleeve?
Have you no idea that you're in deep?
I dreamt about you nearly every night this week
How many secrets can you keep?
'Cause there's this tune I found that makes me think of you somehow and I play it on repeat
Until I fall asleep
Spilling drinks on my settee
And it was just one of those songs I loved the first time I heard it -- the British sound, the oh-so-relatable lyrics:
(Do I wanna know)
If this feeling flows both ways?
(Sad to see you go)
Was sort of hoping that you'd stay
(Baby we both know)
That the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day
Crawling back to you
Ever thought of calling when you've had a few?
'Cause I always do
Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new
Now I've thought it through
I wonder about that concept in the second to last line of the last verse. I really do. I'm finding it tricky to find the sweet spot between not resisting my love for the New Englander and not being mired in it:
Crawling back to you
I really love the next two lines -- and part of me wonders that about both of us:
So have you got the guts?
Been wondering if your heart's still open and if so I wanna know what time it shuts
Simmer down and pucker up
I'm sorry to interrupt. It's just I'm constantly on the cusp of trying to kiss you
I don't know if you feel the same as I do
But we could be together if you wanted to
Actually, I don't wonder if I have the guts. 'Cause I know I do. I do wonder if he does. I sure thought he did. But I'm with the Arctic Monkeys: We could be together if he wanted to. But I need to remember that he doesn't want to, not badly enough, anyway. And while it is hard for me to understand and/or believe that, when I look at the evidence, it's pretty dang clear...
Have you got color in your cheeks?
Do you ever get that fear that you can't shift
The type that sticks around like something in your teeth?
Are there some aces up your sleeve?
Have you no idea that you're in deep?
I dreamt about you nearly every night this week
How many secrets can you keep?
'Cause there's this tune I found that makes me think of you somehow and I play it on repeat
Until I fall asleep
Spilling drinks on my settee
And it was just one of those songs I loved the first time I heard it -- the British sound, the oh-so-relatable lyrics:
(Do I wanna know)
If this feeling flows both ways?
(Sad to see you go)
Was sort of hoping that you'd stay
(Baby we both know)
That the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day
Crawling back to you
Ever thought of calling when you've had a few?
'Cause I always do
Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new
Now I've thought it through
I wonder about that concept in the second to last line of the last verse. I really do. I'm finding it tricky to find the sweet spot between not resisting my love for the New Englander and not being mired in it:
Crawling back to you
I really love the next two lines -- and part of me wonders that about both of us:
So have you got the guts?
Been wondering if your heart's still open and if so I wanna know what time it shuts
Simmer down and pucker up
I'm sorry to interrupt. It's just I'm constantly on the cusp of trying to kiss you
I don't know if you feel the same as I do
But we could be together if you wanted to
Actually, I don't wonder if I have the guts. 'Cause I know I do. I do wonder if he does. I sure thought he did. But I'm with the Arctic Monkeys: We could be together if he wanted to. But I need to remember that he doesn't want to, not badly enough, anyway. And while it is hard for me to understand and/or believe that, when I look at the evidence, it's pretty dang clear...
Friday, September 26, 2014
Follow Me
I'm not sure if it's the beautiful weather, the passage of a month since I left my love in Portland, the increased time I've spent playing in the woods (on my mountain bike), or some combination of all of these and more, but I've been feeling more upbeat this week than I have in quite some time.
So when I heard this song the other day:
You don't know how you met me
You don't know why
You can't turn around and say goodbye
All you know is when I'm with you
I make you free
And swim through your veins like a fish in the sea
I'm singin'
Follow me everything is alright
I'll be the one to tuck you in at night
And if you
Want to leave I can guarantee
You won't find nobody else like me
I felt the truth of the lyrics in what I like to believe is a self-possessed but not self-righteous way. And every day since I heard it, I keep hearing these particular lyrics over and over again:
And if you
Want to leave I can guarantee
You won't find nobody else like me
It helps (but is also part of what is so heartbreaking) that my New Englander feels the same way. It also helps that I am still learning so much about love through the processing of this loss. Paradoxically, the more I allow myself to feel the love I have for him -- or maybe just the more I allow myself to feel the love I have -- the freer I feel:
You don't know how you met me
You don't know why
You can't turn around and say goodbye
All you know is when I'm with you
I make you free
And swim through your veins like a fish in the sea
I'm singin'
I don't know if I make him free, but I know that leaning into the love makes me free, and that, my friends, is the goal...
So when I heard this song the other day:
You don't know how you met me
You don't know why
You can't turn around and say goodbye
All you know is when I'm with you
I make you free
And swim through your veins like a fish in the sea
I'm singin'
Follow me everything is alright
I'll be the one to tuck you in at night
And if you
Want to leave I can guarantee
You won't find nobody else like me
I felt the truth of the lyrics in what I like to believe is a self-possessed but not self-righteous way. And every day since I heard it, I keep hearing these particular lyrics over and over again:
And if you
Want to leave I can guarantee
You won't find nobody else like me
It helps (but is also part of what is so heartbreaking) that my New Englander feels the same way. It also helps that I am still learning so much about love through the processing of this loss. Paradoxically, the more I allow myself to feel the love I have for him -- or maybe just the more I allow myself to feel the love I have -- the freer I feel:
You don't know how you met me
You don't know why
You can't turn around and say goodbye
All you know is when I'm with you
I make you free
And swim through your veins like a fish in the sea
I'm singin'
I don't know if I make him free, but I know that leaning into the love makes me free, and that, my friends, is the goal...
Thursday, September 25, 2014
Strawberry Fields Forever
All in all, today was a pretty amazing day. First of all, it started at 2:30am. That's right. That's what time I woke up. I didn't actually give in and get out of bed until 3am, but I woke up at 2:30am. Mind you, I went to bed at 8:30 last night. You see, I knew I was going to be getting up at 4:30am for an early East-side yoga practice, so the only way to get 8 hours in was to go to sleep at 8:30pm.
I like to get 8 hours, but I haven't been able to lately with all those 4am wake-ups. So I thought I'd try to trick my body into more sleep, but alas, it did not work.
After yoga, I was supposed to meet a friend to go running, but she bailed. Predicting this might happen, I'd stashed my mountain bike in my Volvo so that if I weren't going running, I could go riding.
So out to CamRock I went, arriving around quarter past seven, just in time to see my friend the Great Blue Heron take off as I got onto the first patch of singletrack. The park was once again empty, and I was having a grand old time ripping around corners when I hit Raspberry Fields -- a trail that leads to my very favorite CamRock has to offer: Rip n ride.
It won't surprise you to learn, I bet, that as soon as I saw the Raspberry Fields sign, this song started to play in my mind:
Let me take you down
Cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields
Nothing is real
And nothing to get hung about
Strawberry Fields forever
But it might surprise you that the first line -- Let me take you down -- foreshadowed a pretty crazy tumble that I took on one of Rip n Ride's rocky downhills. I literally flew off the left side of the trail, landing in bramble with my bike on top of me. It was nutty, and it shook me up a bit, but it didn't really hurt, so I got up and rode on:
Living is easy with eyes closed
Misunderstanding all you see
It's getting hard to be someone
But it all works out
It doesn't matter much to me
But then it happened AGAIN, this time on an easier patch of trail, and this time I fell onto my other hip. I have no idea what caused me to go over -- it was like Mother Nature was trying to give me a chiropractic adjustment and she didn't quite get the job done the first time she took me down:
Let me take you down
Cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields
Nothing is real
And nothing to get hung about
Strawberry Fields forever
Falls and all, it really was a great way to start my day. And then, miracle of miracles, my daughter finally agreed to go mountain biking with me this afternoon, so we headed out to Quarry Ridge. It was a bit of a debacle -- tons of mosquitoes, a jammed brake on her bike, a wrong turn that lead us to the wrong trail -- but it was also triumphant in many ways. Not the least of which was me managing to make it up one of the climbs I've been working on -- such a good feeling -- but I've got much more work to do in that department.
And thankfully, I didn't get taken down on the evening ride, at least not in the same way:
Let me take you down
Cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields
Nothing is real
And nothing to get hung about
Strawberry Fields forever
Strawberry Fields forever
Strawberry Fields forever
Speaking of forever, I wish this amazing weather we've had all week would last forever!
I like to get 8 hours, but I haven't been able to lately with all those 4am wake-ups. So I thought I'd try to trick my body into more sleep, but alas, it did not work.
After yoga, I was supposed to meet a friend to go running, but she bailed. Predicting this might happen, I'd stashed my mountain bike in my Volvo so that if I weren't going running, I could go riding.
So out to CamRock I went, arriving around quarter past seven, just in time to see my friend the Great Blue Heron take off as I got onto the first patch of singletrack. The park was once again empty, and I was having a grand old time ripping around corners when I hit Raspberry Fields -- a trail that leads to my very favorite CamRock has to offer: Rip n ride.
It won't surprise you to learn, I bet, that as soon as I saw the Raspberry Fields sign, this song started to play in my mind:
Let me take you down
Cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields
Nothing is real
And nothing to get hung about
Strawberry Fields forever
But it might surprise you that the first line -- Let me take you down -- foreshadowed a pretty crazy tumble that I took on one of Rip n Ride's rocky downhills. I literally flew off the left side of the trail, landing in bramble with my bike on top of me. It was nutty, and it shook me up a bit, but it didn't really hurt, so I got up and rode on:
Living is easy with eyes closed
Misunderstanding all you see
It's getting hard to be someone
But it all works out
It doesn't matter much to me
But then it happened AGAIN, this time on an easier patch of trail, and this time I fell onto my other hip. I have no idea what caused me to go over -- it was like Mother Nature was trying to give me a chiropractic adjustment and she didn't quite get the job done the first time she took me down:
Let me take you down
Cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields
Nothing is real
And nothing to get hung about
Strawberry Fields forever
Falls and all, it really was a great way to start my day. And then, miracle of miracles, my daughter finally agreed to go mountain biking with me this afternoon, so we headed out to Quarry Ridge. It was a bit of a debacle -- tons of mosquitoes, a jammed brake on her bike, a wrong turn that lead us to the wrong trail -- but it was also triumphant in many ways. Not the least of which was me managing to make it up one of the climbs I've been working on -- such a good feeling -- but I've got much more work to do in that department.
And thankfully, I didn't get taken down on the evening ride, at least not in the same way:
Let me take you down
Cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields
Nothing is real
And nothing to get hung about
Strawberry Fields forever
Strawberry Fields forever
Strawberry Fields forever
Speaking of forever, I wish this amazing weather we've had all week would last forever!
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
Fidelity
Now that I've seen all 10 seasons (!) of Grey's Anatomy, I don't have an automatic go-to when I want to watch a little something on my computer. Lately I've been venturing back over to Netflix, where they now have some pretty awesome flicks on Watch Instantly. This includes one of my real faves from the last few years, Silver Linings Playbook.
What a beautiful movie, and it was so good for me to watch it again and see the difference in where I am from a couple of years ago (see my post after I watched it back in January of 2013). In the movie, the main character is still in love with his wife even after she cheated on him and wanted out of their marriage. The movie is about his heartbreak but also about how he rebuilds himself and falls in love with someone else (someone who it would not be hard to fall in love with, my fave, Jennifer Lawrence). When I saw it the first time, I cried and cried. Watching it again, I remember the sheer agony I felt the winter before last. I also remember the friend I watched it with asking me if I knew why it struck me so hard. As I recall, the best I could come up with was that to see them -- the new lovers -- in a position to embrace their love and not be in that position with my own lover felt so unfair.
Now I understand on a deeper level what those tears were about. Some part of me probably knew then what I can see clearly now -- my boyfriend and I were not the new lovers who found each other at a time in both of their lives where they were open to starting something together that could go on and on -- we were -- or should I say I was -- more like the main character at the start of the movie, still desperately in love with someone who, by his actions, had shown that he wasn't able to embrace a life with me. I didn't want to admit it for so long, that though we had been those lovers in the position to take on the world together, we actually only inhabited that place for a fraction of the time we spent together. Much of the rest of it was me holding on for dear life, clinging to what I believed could be.
That belief was enough for a long time, until I started to heal, and want more for myself. And even then, it took me a few more months to recognize that I couldn't force someone to give me what I wanted, not even by identifying it and mapping out a brilliant plan to bring us to fruition. That didn't work. It didn't work because I can only control myself. I can't control him. Even if he, on some level, wants to do the work. Even if he does love me, and want to be with me. Those things just aren't enough. He would have had to be able to take action, and continue to take action, to move himself and us back in that direction, and he either couldn't or wouldn't.
Sigh. But at least the picture is getting clearer for me. I don't love him any less, but I do love myself more, and that means expecting more out of life than to mire myself in a cycle of ecstasy and frustration from trying to change the man I happen to be crazy about who can't or won't deliver on my basic needs in a romantic partnership.
Pondering all of this, I heard Regina Spektor's song about letting go of a love, and it seemed to be expressing what I was feeling pretty darn perfectly:
I never loved nobody fully
Always one foot on the ground
And by protecting my heart truly
I got lost in the sounds
I hear in my mind
All these voices
I hear in my mind all these words
I hear in my mind all this music
And it breaks my heart
And it breaks my heart
And it breaks my heart
It breaks my heart
And suppose I never ever met you
Suppose we never fell in love
Suppose I never ever let you kiss me so sweet and so soft
Suppose I never ever saw you
Suppose we never ever called
Suppose I kept on singing love songs just to break my own fall
Just to break my fall
Just to break my fall
Break my fall
Break my fall
All my friends say that of course its gonna get better
Gonna get better
Better better better better
Better better better
Yes, my friends, you are right. It's gonna get better. It's already starting to...
What a beautiful movie, and it was so good for me to watch it again and see the difference in where I am from a couple of years ago (see my post after I watched it back in January of 2013). In the movie, the main character is still in love with his wife even after she cheated on him and wanted out of their marriage. The movie is about his heartbreak but also about how he rebuilds himself and falls in love with someone else (someone who it would not be hard to fall in love with, my fave, Jennifer Lawrence). When I saw it the first time, I cried and cried. Watching it again, I remember the sheer agony I felt the winter before last. I also remember the friend I watched it with asking me if I knew why it struck me so hard. As I recall, the best I could come up with was that to see them -- the new lovers -- in a position to embrace their love and not be in that position with my own lover felt so unfair.
Now I understand on a deeper level what those tears were about. Some part of me probably knew then what I can see clearly now -- my boyfriend and I were not the new lovers who found each other at a time in both of their lives where they were open to starting something together that could go on and on -- we were -- or should I say I was -- more like the main character at the start of the movie, still desperately in love with someone who, by his actions, had shown that he wasn't able to embrace a life with me. I didn't want to admit it for so long, that though we had been those lovers in the position to take on the world together, we actually only inhabited that place for a fraction of the time we spent together. Much of the rest of it was me holding on for dear life, clinging to what I believed could be.
That belief was enough for a long time, until I started to heal, and want more for myself. And even then, it took me a few more months to recognize that I couldn't force someone to give me what I wanted, not even by identifying it and mapping out a brilliant plan to bring us to fruition. That didn't work. It didn't work because I can only control myself. I can't control him. Even if he, on some level, wants to do the work. Even if he does love me, and want to be with me. Those things just aren't enough. He would have had to be able to take action, and continue to take action, to move himself and us back in that direction, and he either couldn't or wouldn't.
Sigh. But at least the picture is getting clearer for me. I don't love him any less, but I do love myself more, and that means expecting more out of life than to mire myself in a cycle of ecstasy and frustration from trying to change the man I happen to be crazy about who can't or won't deliver on my basic needs in a romantic partnership.
Pondering all of this, I heard Regina Spektor's song about letting go of a love, and it seemed to be expressing what I was feeling pretty darn perfectly:
I never loved nobody fully
Always one foot on the ground
And by protecting my heart truly
I got lost in the sounds
I hear in my mind
All these voices
I hear in my mind all these words
I hear in my mind all this music
And it breaks my heart
And it breaks my heart
And it breaks my heart
It breaks my heart
And suppose I never ever met you
Suppose we never fell in love
Suppose I never ever let you kiss me so sweet and so soft
Suppose I never ever saw you
Suppose we never ever called
Suppose I kept on singing love songs just to break my own fall
Just to break my fall
Just to break my fall
Break my fall
Break my fall
All my friends say that of course its gonna get better
Gonna get better
Better better better better
Better better better
Yes, my friends, you are right. It's gonna get better. It's already starting to...
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