Heartbreak…

It’s been so difficult for me to sleep this past week with everything that has recently transpired. Both my mind and my heart feel restless and the only thing that seems to settle both (for a short time) has been for me to type out my thoughts. At times I’m running the same images, thoughts, or scenarios repeatedly to the point I feel like it’s compulsion driving me and not a particular thought process. Everything is scattered but linear at the same time. To think we only use ten percent of our brains…

It was particularly dificult for me to sleep last night. While I was at work yesterday I was notified by Facebook that he had posted some photos. I remember thinking that I really should turn off his notifications and hide his profile. It would spare me some grief but I still can’t get myself to do it. I’ve tried three times already. Anyways, he posted a photo album of pictures taken at his DJ gig every Saturday. Several of the photos he posted were of him in t-shirts that I had given him. It instantly made me sad. I wanted to post that I “liked” the photos and to leave comments that he looked good in them. But I didn’t. Instead I sent him a private message telling him that I was happy the most recent shirt, that I had custom made from an inside joke, fit him and that it looked good. It also made me smile to see him wear it. No response from him. I don’t know why I expected a response. Maybe I was looking for a thank you or maybe I was looking for him to reach out to see how I was doing.

He’s apologized profusely but I can’t help but feel that I’m starting to resent what’s happened between us. It feels like he’s been able to return to life while I am left with my feet firmly planted in mud as I try to move forward.

The roll call…

This morning I woke ridiculously early again. I think I’m still wishing I was on east coast time. My mind really wants me to be there.

I woke to thoughts of my ex’s in the past decade. I thought about how they have shaped me and how I have “survived” them. I was thinking about how thoroughly my heart has been broken. I know you’re probably thinking about it too. In my history I have only ended things with a few guys. Everyone else has ended things with me.

When I think of a broken heart I think of a cartoon where the heart had broken into pieces but they had used scotch tape to put it back together. Although taped back together haphazardly, it still worked. That’s how I’ve always felt about my heart.

I don’t know where I got my notion of romance or love from. I grew up in a volatile and violent household where my parents tried to stay married for as long as they could but they hated each other immensely. I don’t remember them ever holding each other lovingly or even saying a kind word to one another. I really don’t know how I became the hopeless romantic in our family. Maybe I really wanted to embody everything that they were not.

Now here comes the roll call…

“B” from 1996 - 1997. My first love - the Fijian. He was three years older than me and was the one I gave my virginity to. He always looked at me as his best friend and never the girl that he could end up with. We dated very briefly but were best friends for up to six years afterwards before he was married.

“K” from 1997 - 1998. My last highschool fling. We dated for about six months. He ended things during a vacation to Silverstar mountain with my best friend and her boyfriend. I remember crying for most of the six hours home.

“P” from 1998 - 2001. My longest relationship - the East Indian. P taught me a lot about the type of man I didn’t want in my life. He was almost parasitic. He definitely was not motivated or responsible with anything in his life and was a borderline alcoholic. We were engaged for the last year of our relationship but I knew it would never end up working. I don’t know how we lasted as long as we did or how I allowed him to get away with as much as he did. Maybe I’ll chalk that one up to being young. I ended things with him after he threw me over a couch. I vowed I would never become my parents.

“C.S.” from 2003 - 2006. The one that almost broke me. After P, I was single for about a year and a half. C.S. was a co-worker of mine and we ended up hanging out more and more before he was transferred to another store. We dated for close to three years before he moved in for the last four months of our relationship. C.S. was always reluctant to talk about marriage or children. I never felt I pressured him or even really brought the topics up. He felt that after his sister was married that everyone in his family expected him to be next. He felt so pressured that after a disagreement one afternoon he moved out while I was at work. I came home to a half empty home and fell to pieces. His last words to me over the phone a week later were, “I never want to be with you ever again.”. How does one “survive” after something that traumatic?

It took me five years to even consider dating after C.S. It was impossible for me to feel for someone after they had abandoned you without a real reason. I spent the next five years focused on me and what I wanted from my life. I traveled. I had adventures. I lived. Then I got back on my feet and tried again…

“J” from March 2011 - April 2011. The guy from Seattle - My first African American. He was my first foray back into the dating world via online dating. I drove down to Seattle every weekend for a month to get to know him but ended up learning that he had a lot of secrets that he would tell me one week at a time. In the end I couldn’t trust him and I ended things.

“C.R.” from April 2011 - July/Aug 2011. The Brooklyn, New Yorker turned Canadian. He was someone I really enjoyed being with and could actually have seen myself settling down with. He had a few issues though. One being that he was a workaholic. The second being that he was still in love with his ex. Although he would tell me that he would never go back to her, that’s what he ultimately did, after telling me that he loved me. I had told him that I would never be someone’s second choice, but that’s what he made me out to be. I was so broken after him. After being single for so long, how did the first guy that I really let my guard down for break me so easily?

“L” from Nov 2011 - May 2012. My true New Yorker - long distance style. We technically didn’t date. He thought we were just friends. I thought we were more. Misunderstandings ensued and I was falling in love with someone who didn’t feel the same way back. I didn’t know that there was such a difference in feelings until I traveled to visit him two weeks ago. We’ve mutually ended things.

I’m healing now but I don’t know how I can trust my heart again. I know you’re out there for me. I’m just exhausted from the journey. It’s weird how typing this history has settled my brain a little. I still feel restless but I am calming for a bit.

Lessons learned…

This recent trip to New York has taught me a great deal about perception and expectation. I perceived and mistook someone’s affection to mean more than it did for them. I believed that when he was willing to “see how things will go”, that he meant that he was open to building more should it turn in that direction. I felt like it did and he obviously didn’t. I mistook his efforts to fly out and see me in January as him wanting to pursue something with me. I’m still struggling with that as someone just doesn’t fly across a continent and through a country just for a simple friendship or for booty.

We spoke in February and he believed that we were to continue only as friends. One doesn’t share intimate details with just any friend. One does not call a friend every day for seven months to just “chat” when you barely have time for the friends in close proximity. One does not allow a friend to continually call them “babe” or profess how much they adore them if they are merely just friends.

We spoke a lot about honesty and trust between each other that final day. He trusted me enough to allow me into certain aspects of his life. He felt he had honestly conveyed his intentions with me. When I had asked him if it was ok for me to come to visit him prior to booking my tickets, he said “yes it was ok” and “of course”. Was he really expecting me to just remain friends while sleeping in his bed?

I have to admit that my hopes blinded me to his intentions. I felt we clicked in so many aspects of our lives and that we were like-minded in what we wanted for our futures. I felt like I had connected with someone who I know I could have been happy with. In my last post I spoke about feeling at home with him. Being in NYC with him was just effortless for me. I didn’t have to ask for much as he gave me more than I needed emotionally and mentally. I felt like I belonged in his world but he ended up keeping me as the outsider.

So what did I learn from all of this? I learned that I need to ask for more. I need to be more guarded with my feelings. I need to clarify if my instincts are telling me things don’t feel straight.

After five years of being single, I am being challenged now more than ever with how to build a relationship with the other sex. I was thrown the stereotypical male personas. I was given the lost male who doesn’t know what he wants. The male who wants what he used to have, which wasn’t you. The male who says that he doesn’t want anything but if you give, he will take.

Why is joy with another so elusive? I have already found joy within myself.

As I said to him, I don’t need another friend… I have lots of friends who love and care for me. I need a partner in crime that I know will love me regardless of the bad “That’s what she said” jokes. One who will ride with me if all I want to do is drive through the city. One who is willing to let me lay there and run my fingers along the side of their face as I lovingly look them in the eyes. One I can be still and silent next to as cats run a muck in their apartment. I thought this was what I had found but I was clearly mistaken.

” Be mindful of the choices you make. What you choose to allow and what you choose to overlook can adversely affect another person’s heart.”

I had a meaningful conversation with my best friend that put things into perspective. I made dinner with another great friend and I even laughed a little today.

I can feel this heaviness dissipate…