Coming out of the ‘crazy time’, per the book I was reading and have referenced in previous blogs, I thought perhaps I was finally ready to try out relationships again. By that I mean relationships now that I’ve gotten past the rebound, and the nice-guy-darn-he-is-married, and last but not least, to borrow the Super Hero’s term, the bat-shit crazy (ie: The Count) guy. Having gone through my various stages of grief of my marriage, the wacked out crazy time stuff, and the relationships mentioned, I thought MAYBE I was ready to find Mr. Right.
I was Miss WRONG!
It isn’t that I don’t want to be special to someone, or have someone special in my life. But I’m not craving that either. It certainly sounds nice and all, but….
Getting hurt does not concern me, pain is a part of life. You cannot love and expect to go without being hurt. I’ve had my heart broken plenty of times, some just cracks, and obviously the ex husband completely shattered it. But I am healed and I know that it is likely that it will be broken again. That doesn’t ‘scare’ me. What I am fearful of is hurting someone else. I do not ever want to cause that kind of pain to another human being. I hurt just to breathe when my marriage ended. Thinking hurt, being asleep hurt, being awake hurt. I was half out of my mind in pain I never imagined was possible. It was like a death, I went through the various stages…but this is worse. It is far worse to see him with someone else when he was the center of my world. I will never stop loving him. No, it is not the same by any stretch, but it is still more painful than I could ever have imagined. When I said “I do” I meant for life, forever, and nothing could have prepared me for the raw pain of being rejected by him. Yes, I did indeed dance on the edge of insanity. I see that now. I stopped crying long ago, and can now, because I do love him, really FEEL happy for him that he has found someone to make him happy. But knowing what that did to me makes it hard for me to imagine allowing myself to ever love or be loved like that. I cannot begin to fathom hurting another person that way.
Superhero, Mr. Wonderful, and The Count all were a huge part of the healing process that I now can see as I look back. But they were not my forever love. The first two, once they moved through their own crazy times, well I’d not turn them down, The Count is the only one I know for sure is a no-way-in-hell potential. He is potential hell on this earth, and a totally dodged bullet that I was too stupid and blind to see, but the other two, well the timing was just all wrong. Who knows what another place in time might have been? I remain friends with them both and would have their back without a second thought.
But back to the topic at hand…I thought I was ready to go forward. Even had a potential, let’s see where it goes and just let it unfold type relationship. But I cannot bring myself to go there.
I want to stand completely on my own. Be my own person, financially, mentally and emotionally independent. I want to make all of my own decisions, come and go as I please, answer to no one but myself. I want to pursue my faith and get back where I belong there, I want to go places, see things, do things that I want to do. I don’t want to worry if it is going to upset someone else if I jump on the back of Mr. Wonderful’s bike and we head out for a few hours to let the stress blow off. Or have to cover if I chose to go spend the night sleeping next to someone that makes me feel safe and secure, who holds me and touches me like I’m special to them. I don’t want anyone to even ask where I was, or who I was with, or where I am going or why.
I don’t want to hide from love or run from it, I don’t want to look for it. I don’t want to be IN it.
I just, for once in my life, want to be ME. No more (fill in the blank) and Marti. I just want to be MARTI. Marvelous, crazy, quirky, fun, happy 99.9% of the time, maybe once in a blue moon sad, sometimes a few pounds over my ideal weight, sometimes a few more than that but never with anyone’s critique, spontaneous, predictable, perfectly imperfect ME. The only engine running on this race track, the only act in this circus, being MINE. No risking anyone’s heart including my own. Just LIVING.