2002-10-08 - 1:41 p.m.
Ok, so I can't stay away for that long. What can I say?
You know what often surprises me? How much your perception of a situation can change when you find out about someone else's experience of it.
A few years ago I was involved with a man who I will simply call S. S was and is married, and I knew it. When we started to get involved he let me know that she was not particularly happy with his choice of partners because one of their rules was "not within the community" which I most certainly was. On the other hand, he also told me about all of this terrible stuff she was doing and how she had *fallen in love* with her lover and was just behaving in a most impolite manner. Fine.
For my part, I was head over heels for this man. He made me feel so special and beautiful and powerful that I could not get enough. He said that I was water on dry ground to him. That every thing I touched in him I healed. I was *gone*! And I must also admit that I wrote some of the most beautiful poetry to him which I am glad I still have.
Time has passed, we have stopped seeing each other. It basically came down to this for me: his marriage was in trouble, I wanted him to concentrate on that or concentrate on me ... not both. The marriage won, I told him that we couldn't continue. This created a rift between us for a while but it eventually healed. And for a long while I kept my love for him in my heart, a sweet secret piece of sand slowly turning into a pearl.
As I said, that was a few years ago. Since then I have become really good friends with his wife. She is my dance teacher and we have become really close, sharing many intimate details about our lives as girls are like to do. One day, while sewing costumes, she informs me that S was not only seeing me but also 2 other women that he was actually sleeping with (he and I never had sex). WHAT THE F**K!!??
He never told me that. In all of the nights that we cuddled and kissed and confided in each other he NEVER told me that I was one of many. And so the thoughts started going: well then, what else has he not told me? How much of what he told me was true?
::Why do I even care anymore?
And that was the real kicker ... why did I still care? it was years ago. I had since lost my illusions about how S operates. I mean, one day I'm over there for dance class and Ta, his wife, is really upset because she had just gotten back from a trip during which W called her and said "I invited this woman over to stay the night and tried to have sex with her, sorry" (he probably said more but that was the gist).
The funny part being that he tried that with me, too. She was gone on a trip, had left that day in fact, and he called me to come over. I told him that I couldn't come over for very long but I wouldn't mind visiting and he got all grumpy and said to never mind. Now I know what he was planning .. and ICK!! How dare he try that? How dare he try to make me a part of that?
:: And why do I still care?
I guess I still care because I still loved him and had realized that I was being betrayed by my memories. Or that my memories were so false, so contrived by him that they weren't the same anymore. They had once existed as sweet and tender feelings, secret, sensual, magical, crazy, wonderful memories of a very special time in my life ... and with every new piece of information the gilding flaked off to reveal something cheap, mass produced, and in all probability, fake. And even if he were to say it wasn't fake, how am I to believe him? How am I ever to believe him again.
:: Why do I care?
I just f**king do. I ... am afraid.
I don't love T. We have agreed that "love" is not a place we are going to go. I know, I know, as if you can control it ... but, no really, we are the only two people in the universe who can. ;) But, oh god, what if all of the wonderfulness that I am feeling with T ends up the same as the wonderfulness with S? What if I am betrayed again? And, worse, remain the fool for years? Not knowing. Caressing my memories of him as my secret treasures but everyone else knows what crap they are?
It is a terrible thing to lose trust in someone. With my realization about S I lost a lover, a friend, and a teacher all in one moment. S had helped we find the words with which I communicate with the Universe. He had helped me find my path. What was all that now? Still mine, certainly, but lonely without my dear support and guide, S.
I do trust T but I am afraid to. You can't be hurt by someone you don't love, right?
::Right ... wrong, silly.
Wrong. Oh, man, I am afraid. But all I can do is trust. Trust everyday that this person won't be like that person. And everytime he isn't I'll trust him a little more.
While I'm doing that I'll be building trust in myself, in my own ability to assess a situation and not participate in hurting someone if I can possibly avoid it. That is the other reason I still care, my impression of myself during that time became a little uglier and a little smaller.
Maybe that's why I need to tell about it, because I want people to be more upset at him than I am at me for having been a party to those lies.
.... and I'm pissed that Matt called it all along. More on him later.
But I can't do much about it now. As I said, I can only trust. I can only trust T to be the good person he has always shown he is. I can only trust myself to rise above my past actions and keep an eye on where I am and what I'm doing.
As for S, I still feel like his fool. And I'll be damned if he can get close enough to me to make me so again. But I do miss trusting him. I am sad that he is no longer safe for me.
Sorry that I can't give you closure for this, faceless reader. I don't have any myself so I certainly can't give it away.
BTW, do you mind the "faceless reader" bit? Does it make you feel unimportant? Please don't think I find you unimportant. It's simply easier for me if I don't try to give you an identity, easier for me to be honest. I hope you can understand that.
Take care
M
"Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears." The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran
