The surgery went well, my mom is doing great; just a few days of minimal movement and no heavy lifting. So, in hindsight, all my worry was really all for naught. But I still maintain it was my mom, so I have every right to worry.
Moving on... I think, that I can be on the mend.
I mean, in all honesty, I think I was preemptively mending. I mean, I knew my relationship was on the rocks (hence, me asking for a break). I knew we divided on some major issues and had very different views on things. I think I was trying to bring something back. I think I was trying to hang on to something from when we first started dating. Because once upon a time, things were good, and we were both happy (but who wants to read that story??!).
And then... things changed. There was a shift. Things happened, I switched jobs and moved (I will forever wonder if that move on my part was the beginning of the end); he graduated from UNT and it was taking a little while to find a reasonable job. And from there, things kept changing.... the way things tend to do.
I being the naive woman that I sometimes let myself be in a relationship, thought, "hey, this is just a rough patch; things will get better, things will be ok." And they would be, for a little while. And then they wouldn't be, for a while.
And I, being the even more naive girl than I would like to admit... thought that still, STILL, things might work out. Especially because I subsist on a steady diet of Jane Austen.
So, even pre-break up, I was seeing the picture of us and any illusions of ANY type of future together slowly dissolving away. And now, post-break up, I can clearly see just how much I was giving up to give to him, and how much I was willing to concede to him to make him happy. It is now, I can grasp how unfair that is (blah blah blah life is not fair blah blah blah) to me.
NOTE: this is my self-coined "selfish help", this is ALL ABOUT ME and MY SIDE of the story.
Things I was more than willing to do for him during the duration of our relationship:
+ see him at his place, with him spending minimal time at my place because it is "too far" "not comfortable" "inconvenient" (this was "true" not matter where I lived)
+ reduce my communication with him to pretty much only texting ( talking on the phone made is "head hot and caused headaches") p.s. if you have not noticed, I am a writer (of sorts) and need a little more than 160 characters to make myself clear.
+ see him at his convenience based on his schedule with little regard for my own (leave at 5am to be in Dallas by 7am. sure. drive after work at 10pm to spend the night and part of the day with him. sure.)
That is a short list. There are other, more trivial and more private matters, that I could air out here... but I like to think I am above that.
Maybe you're wondering why I did that, fit myself into those parameters... Well, because I love(d?) him (parenthetical d? because my feelings of him are shelved. I cannot look at them. I cannot entertain them.). And because deep deep down I really believed that if I could give him what he needed; he, in kind, would return the favor.
Well, I ran out of patience before that happened.
Someone, PLEASE explain to me how long I was supposed to keep giving and doing and going and shifting to give someone only to feel continually like it was a) not enough b) not correct and c) like there was no return appreciation/reciprocation.
Tell me. Show me the math equation of how time and distance factor into patience and persistence, subtract desire, add differing measures of affection, subtract some intimacy....
OH WAIT. Those are not QUANTIFIABLE.
There is no equation (ok, I have created one, but don't trust my math-- I was never any good), not a real one. With a real solution.
I digress...
Here I am, knowing what I've done for this person, and just how much further I might have been willing to go (sorry readers, we don't know how that ends). So... What happens now?
I know I can no longer attempt to reach out. No reply materializes. Which, upon meditation, is upsetting. Why? Because it is like I no longer exist an it is as if there was never a relationship at all. IF that is the case, and IF that is show this proceeds; I want ALL my shit back. I want every token of my affection I proffered. All notes, cards, keep the gifts. I want all my creative property back. I don't want him to have the pleasure of being able to reminisce about my poetic waxing of him. So, yeah, I find this upsetting...
So what do I have now?
All I have is me... and you know what? (you say "no" )
I am pretty fucking awesome.
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