When We Were Young

I talked to her about our past, today.

We talked about the night we watched fireworks together. I was maybe fifteen, she was maybe sixteen. We laid on the grass, our fingers barely touching, stroking. It was electric. No one knew anything was going on, but for both of us it was unforgettable. It was the first time I had felt anything like it. To this day, I've only experienced something similar with one other person. She remembers the intensity too...and realizing, to our amazement, that someone could barely touch you somewhere, and you could feel it everywhere.

We talked about the first time we kissed. I was twenty-one, she was twenty-two. We were on my mom's front porch, and I was intoxicated by the way she was looking at me. Before I could stop myself, I kissed her...and before I could process what was happening, her mouth was on my neck. She had me pressed against the wall, and all I could do was marvel at the fact that I was so...done. I wanted her. She had me. I would have followed her anywhere that night.
She remembers exactly what she was wearing, and exactly the way it felt. She told me it's funny how the important moments in your life are just frozen like that, in perfect detail.

I feel that way about her, to this day...there is still that passion, the excitement, the crazy devotion. When I see her signed into facebook, I feel this sudden...arousal, I guess is the term. The shape of her name, typed out like that...the simple beauty of it elicits an immediate emotional and physical reaction. When she and I get in the car together, I feel like we could quite literally go anywhere...like I want to keep driving. When she sings along to the radio, our kids in the back seat...I feel such a sweet, calm peace. Happiness.

I know she's not mine. I know it's no use.

So...what is this all for?

Realizing Myself

It doesn't make me sick to see her and her boyfriend posting on facebook anymore.
It doesn't make me feel like I can't breathe. It doesn't make me dizzy.

It just makes me sad. It's just this...dull ache. Makes me feel empty.

It's progress. Not much, but a little. And I'm grateful for it.

I have backed off a lot. I have only seen her a few times in the past three weeks. I have stopped volunteering to do everything for her, because I can't stand wondering if she only keeps me around because I will watch her kids, or clean her house, or bring her dinner.

When I talk about the things that I do for her, people think she's a bitch for not appreciating or loving me. It was the same with my other ex. But it's me, really. I go out of my way to put other people first, and it keeps them from being able to respect me...it keeps them in control. I just hand over my power. Honestly, I get satisfaction from it...for some reason, knowing that I am giving someone else everything, or putting their needs and desires before mine, gives me a sense of accomplishment. It gives me ammunition for a guilt trip. I hate to admit that, but it's true...I try not to guilt trip, but it's definitely in my nature.

Feeling sorry for myself because I do everything for someone, and still don't get what I need or want from them, is also in my nature.

I don't like this about myself. But it's typical behavior for us caregiver types. I'm trying really hard to change this. I know that it has served me in the past, because I allowed myself to use self-sacrifice to define my sense of self-worth. But I don't want to go on degrading myself.

If I treat myself like I don't matter, how can I be surprised when other people treat me that way?

So I try to remember; that's not me. That's just a behavior pattern. That's just how I feed my ego. That's how I keep myself believing I know who I am. Repeating patterns is safe, even when they're not good for me. I know I have not been honoring myself...my real, true self. I have not been loving myself. I have not even REALIZED myself.

The more I do realize myself, and understand the motivations behind my actions, the more I'm able to change my story. When I am able to recognize that I am not my thoughts, and I am not my feelings, I'm able to control them a little better.

I suppose that's why she can talk about being with him without me feeling like I've been punched in the throat.

But I do know that it still hurts. I do know that I can't see her without wanting her. I do know that every time I have to leave her, I feel deeply unsatisfied...I feel so much longing.

It's a struggle. But I can't keep repeating this same story. I can't keep giving people power over me. I have to be better to myself than that...even when it means distancing myself from someone who makes me feel incredible passion.

Love is love...and if I can be in love with her, then I can find a way to simply love her. In time. With practice. With presence of mind. With self awareness. Eventually, I assume, I will get it down.