Relationships Revisited

I've visited this topic before but now feel I need to revisit it as a relationship I was involved in has disintegrated into ashes. As a result of that disintegration, I was recently asked if I even saw myself in a relationship maybe down the road sometime in the future.

I do.

Yet, I don't. 

I do, because I admit I'm lonely and I think the companionship would be nice. I'd have someone to talk to who'd respond. My plants aren't quite as responsive. They're lovely and relatively maintenance free, when not being attacked by spider mites, root rot or some other unidentifiable problem.

A pet could ease the loneliness. But, I don't have a lifestyle suitable for a dog as I'm gone almost 10 hours a day when I'm teaching and that would not be fair for the dog. I've considered getting a cat, but many of my plants are on the ASPCA toxic list which could injure the cat (or dog), and cats (and dogs) are notorious for eating plants. Then there's the vet visits and subsequent expenses.

I've thought about a roommate, as she/he would also be someone to talk to, and maybe socialize with. But, there are too many other considerations. The roommate would have to:

• be comfortable with my being gay
• not be into drugs or heavy drinking
• be financially stable
• be emotionally stable
• be generally compatible with me
• not smoke
• be trustworthy

Plus, I would have to seriously want to allow (and be comfortable with) someone else in my house, when I'm not here. I'm not sure I'm there, yet. I just finished removing all traces of my ex making the house mine, and now I'm thinking of sharing it?

If I were in a relationship, I'd have someone to take day trips with. Plants don't travel well. Dogs do, sometimes. Cats can be finicky when it comes to traveling.

If I were in a relationship, I'd have someone to share the responsibilities of the house. 

Yet, I don't see myself in a relationship due to my current state of relationship-fatigue. I don't feel I have the energy, desire or drive to take the time to figure out what some other man wants or needs. I find the idea of coming up with ideas for dates to be daunting.

Right now, I find the maintenance of the relationship to be overwhelming; the calling or texting, letting him know I'm thinking of him, as well as his letting me know he's thinking of me seems to send shivers up and down my spine. Setting boundaries and trying to figure out what he wants/needs/means while I'm trying to figure out exactly what I want/need feels daunting.
 
I've been alone now for a while and am used to doing things my way, on my schedule, and having someone underfoot would take some major adjustments on my part. I've discovered I have a huge tendency to just give in to avoid conflict, and now that I am more set in my ways, I see some more adjusting to do.

It's also very difficult to even want to date when many of the articles I come across have titles like How to Spot a Narcissist, or Are you Dating a Sociopath?

Or my newest personal favorite, Yet Another Problem for Older Gay Men: "Internalized Gay Ageism." The article describes how the gay male community, more so than any other community, focuses on youth and beauty, the young virile male. As gay men mature, we develop an innate sense of uselessness, of unattractiveness simply due to our age because we see the focus in gay media on the handsome, the muscular, the barely legal young men. And our bodies don't necessarily look like theirs.

It becomes very difficult not to internalize this sense of unwantedness as we grow up seeing it, living it, and therefore adding it to our already internalized homophobia.

The article does offer hope, or at least a way of not feeling so hopeless. It suggests finding a sense of "mattering". Find a way to feel that you matter to someone, some way that you make a difference. For me, that might suggest focusing on my teaching, internalizing that I matter in the education of my students. I could focus on the readership of this blog, hoping that somehow, someway, I am making a difference in the life of someone somewhere.

Evidently, I'm in a very non-trusting state. Some may say it's because of the deterioration of this last relationship that has led me to this state. I disagree. I was feeling this way before this relationship began to take off. This relationship opened my heart to wanting to explore the possibility of one with this young man. Now that it's over, I've returned to not trusting, and therefore, not wanting one.

And yet, maybe it's just the right man, at just the right time, in just the right place with all the planets in alignment that just might somehow possibly change my mind.

And my heart.

To read the entire article on older gay men and ageism, click here.

To check out the ASPCA toxic and non-toxic plant list, click here. 

The Piñata

I pay attention to signs.

I don't necessarily mean traffic signs, though I do pay attention to them, but other signs. Like from the Universe.

Sometimes, I notice the first image I wake up with thinking it's an image from a dream, and I try to recall the image so I can remember the dream. Or, maybe I think it's some kind of message from my subconscious for me to be aware of throughout the day, some kind of inspiration or lesson to watch for. Or, possibly it's some deep emotional epiphany that simply surfaced subconsciously during the night and needs to be addressed.

More often than not, it is a song, an earworm. So, I listen to it to see if there is a message in there for me, or if it's maybe just one of my newest favorites stuck on repeat in my head.

The other day I woke up to the image of a piñata. Could I have dreamed about one? Possibly, but what would it mean? I usually don't remember my dreams anyway.

So, I sat with it, and let the image refocus itself. It wasn't a piñata at the beginning of a party, but at the end.

And then I understood the significance of the vision. The recent emotional turmoil I've been experiencing has left me feeling like I'd been hit over and over from all sides until I realized I was the piñata at the end of the party, all battered and broken with my insides spilling all over the floor ready to be picked over.

(Note to my readers unfamiliar with a piñata: It is a hollow papier-mâché figure filled with sweets. It is usually part of birthdays or other celebrations where it is hung by a rope and party guests take turns being blindfolded and try to hit it with a stick until it breaks and the sweets fall to the ground, only to be gobbled up by the vulturous party goers.)

I recently terminated therapy with a counselor because I was leaving the sessions feeling worse about myself than when I arrived. While he claims he was challenging me to look deeper into myself and my current situation, his methods began leaving me feeling like he was drilling for oil in the North Sea, digging far deeper and faster than I was ready to go, questioning nearly my every motive to remain in a relationship he felt was unworthy of me, and wondering why I wasn't following his advice as soon as I possibly could.

I also had some well-meaning friends offer advice and opinions over said relationship that didn't quite produce the results they had hoped. It ended up leaving me a bit guarded and protective of myself and I'm seriously considering keeping any future potential relationship a very closely guarded secret until I feel the time is right to introduce him and subject myself to the possible haranguing by my friends.

This most recent relationship was indeed very challenging and multi-faceted, but it recently came crashing to a disastrous end, possibly leaving the friendship in tattered remnants.

And all of this came beating down on me in the last three months to the point where I felt the Universe may have been conspiring against me.

But, unlike that poor piñata, I can piece myself back together. I can gather all my inner turmoil and allow it to settle itself into place, sort itself out and move on.

Yet, again.

Seems like I'm becoming quite good at it, as exhausting as it is...over and over.


 Then there are those times I'd really rather not piece myself together as I suspect that somewhere down the road I'll be doing it yet again.

I don't really think the Universe is conspiring against me, but trying to teach me something, and prepare me for something sometime down the road.

I guess I'll just have to wait and see. And try and avoid becoming a piñata, again.


For a detailed and quite surprising history of the piñata, click here.

Trust

                Don’t you sometimes wish your heart was a heart of stone?

                (With a heart of stone, you’ll be well protected.)

Trust can be like the tides, ebbing and flowing between two people; sometimes high, sometimes low.

Or it can be like a living creature, growing ever stronger, though weakening at times.

Or, it can be like a delicate figurine, easily broken yet difficult to mend. And if it can be mended, there are cracks running through it, whether they are visible or not.

I suppose I see it more like the last example.

Due to a recent confluence of multiple interrelated events, I'm feeling very distrustful of a number of people lately, and by extension, of people in general. And of gay men, somewhat specifically.

Don’t you sometimes wish your heart was made of stone?

I see all interpersonal relationships, whether they are romantic, platonic, familial or professional, as a stream. The relationships flow on, sometimes very calm and smooth, and somewhat turbulent at other moments. If the Rock of Broken Trust is dropped into the stream, the course of the stream is altered forevermore. Even if it falls in during a calm stretch, once the ripples settle down, that rock is now lying at the bottom and has altered the path of the water, as the current must now take that foreign object into account and alter its course accordingly, however slightly.

I ask the river for a sign,

(In a dream, we go on forever)

How long is love supposed to shine?

(In a dream, diamonds are forever)

I’ve been in this place before, where someone close to me has broken my trust. In time, we moved forward, yet the incident that broke this trust lies deep within my soul, like the Rock of Broken Trust at the bottom of the riverbed. Our relationship has forever changed, if only a tiny bit.

Get the picture? No room for the innocent,
Peak season in lonely town,
Knocked out of the ring by love,
Are you down and up, or up and down?

I have no idea what the future holds, does anyone?

                Sweet rain like mercy in the night

                (Lay me down, wash away the sorrow)

                Caress my soul and make it right

                (Lay me down, show me your tomorrow)

I know that broken trust hurts. Yes, I am hurting. Like the priceless figurine that gets knocked off the shelf, trust can inadvertently be broken. When I spoke with those who’d broken my trust, they were quite shocked and were truly very sorry. I also believe they didn’t intentionally mean to break my trust. But, the little figurine is still cracked; yet, we are moving forward.

                But, you and I, we hurt together, hurt alone,

                Don’t you sometimes wish your heart was a heart of stone?

Yes, I do.

It can be smoothed out, but that little wrinkle is still there.

Listening

I recently learned something.

People don't know how to listen correctly. 

I recently went through a complicated relationship where there were some major green flags which told me to proceed. There were some red flags as well, and I tried to exercise caution. As this was a new and very different type of relationship for me, and the red flags were a bit confusing and frustrating, I expressed my concerns to some friends. 

And they listened. 

Then they told me what they thought. 

Then they told me what they thought I should do.

Then they told me what they thought of him. 

Then they told me why they thought he was wrong for me.

Yet, when I tried to explain that I wanted to stay in this relationship for the tremendous personal growth I was experiencing and that-despite the challenges-I was learning so much more about myself and about what I wanted and needed in a relationship because of it, none of that seemed to matter. They stayed focused on the negative. They stayed focused on what they thought was right for me instead of listening to what I felt was right for me. Instead of allowing me learn more about myself, they became the experts on my life.

It seems they listened to reply. They didn't listen to understand.

They replied to address my concerns, not to understand my point of view.

They didn't listen to understand what was important to me, which was my growth. And the more I tried to point out the positive signs I saw, the more they brought up the negative they saw, thus negating and discounting what mattered to me; my feelings, my growth and my happiness.

By extension, I was beginning to feel they were negating me.

They didn't seem to realize that he and I are different people and a different type of couple than they and their significant other are. They seemed to believe that what was right, or what worked for them, absolutely had to be right or work for the two of us.

Life experiences bring us change, and with change comes pain and with pain comes growth and vice versa.

I will take the responsibility of not stating ahead of time that all I wanted at that time was a sympathetic ear and a silent mouth. Just listen, say nothing. My bad.

I can accept my friends were trying to look out for me. I get that. I really do. They are good people with good hearts. But, it was on their terms, not mine; from their past experiences, not mine; their past battles, not mine. And again I take responsibility for not being clear to what I wanted from them.

While not all of my friends were so vocal in expressing their concerns, I think the number of my friends who did speak their mind, so overwhelmed me that it began to undermine my self-confidence in my relationship skills. Plus, the longer the relationship went on, the more determined they became that I should heed their advice.

Unfortunately, as human beings, we have been conditioned to listen to reply. We have not been taught to listen to understand what someone else needs or wants from us. And as a teacher I do it all the time. I pose a question and expect an answer. Simple recall. I try to ask some questions of my students to understand their thinking so I may address misconceptions in their understanding of the subject matter. When there is a conflict between students, I try to get one to restate what the other's concern or feelings are in order to see the consequences of their actions. In short, I'm trying to teach empathy, which is sorely lacking in today's society.

One thing I learned in this relationship is that I need to set boundaries and ask for what I need/want from my boyfriend. Maybe this incident also serves as a lesson for me to do the same with my friends. 

I'll start asking for them to listen, not with their ears, but with their heart.

Christmas Gifts

I have a light little anecdote to share. I realize my posts have been a bit heavy lately.

I finally treated myself to something I'd wanted a while back, yet allowed myself to be talked out of; the tattoo I'd designed after my husband divorced me five years ago. It was my Christmas gift to myself.

I drove down to the studio for my 3:00 PM appointment, signed the papers concerning all the legalities while the artist set up his workstation and dealt with a couple of other things. We then finalized the design, and after about forty minutes altogether, I finally settled myself in his chair for a long session as we'd booked two hours for it. I was ready for it, even if I hadn't been feeling well lately due to a minor illness and major emotional upheaval.

About an hour into the session, I was dying. Not because of the pain, although there were moments and I had forgotten to take something beforehand, but for a cup of coffee as it was now close to 5:00 PM, way past my afternoon coffee/tea time.

As luck would have it, one of the other artists announced he was headed to the Starbucks across the street as he was between clients.

My ears perked up! Starbucks??!! I really wanted to ask him to bring me something, but dare I? I understand that if you don't ask for what you want the answer is always no, and I do feel uncomfortable asking complete strangers for even a simple favor. He did ask the other artists, some of whom put in orders. And I hoped he would ask me, but as I'm a customer and he didn't know me, would he?

He did indeed ask if I wanted something. 

Hallelujah! Praise the arabicas!

I asked for a tall cup of coffee with cream as I wasn't about to trouble him for my usual afternoon beverage from Starbucks; a venti, extra hot, no foam, no whip coconut milk mocha. And I thanked him.

He soon returned precariously carrying the assorted orders and I gratefully accepted mine, took a sip and felt the warmth of the coffee fill my soul and I began to zen out for a moment even while the needle was preventing me from doing so completely. 

Then came my real dilemma. As my arm was still occupied with the needle, I couldn't reach my wallet to  pay him, but I assumed he understood my situation.

What I find interesting about me here is how I entertained the thought of what he might think of me for not offering to pay him just a few dollars for a simple cup of coffee. While I was not having anxiety over it, it still bothered me, as I was brought up to at least offer to pay for something someone does for you. It's the right thing to do. And I hadn't been able to do that.

Yet.

Soon after, he got ready to leave, as his last appointment of the day failed to show up. As he was walking past my chair-it was the one closest to the door-I thanked him again for the coffee and said I'd leave the money with my artist as I couldn't reach my wallet.

He said not to worry about it as it was only a couple of bucks. I replied I didn't want him to think I'd forgotten or was skipping out on paying him, and he said it never entered his mind.

I again realized that I think too much about the most trivial of things.

I also learned that sometimes a nice gesture is just that...it's simply a nice gesture.

The finished tattoo

Settling, Waiting, Or...?

It's strange what comes to your mind early in the morning when you've had a restless sleep the night before during a period of deep emotional upheaval.

I woke to the lyrics of a song prancing around in my head that I hadn't heard, much less thought of, since I last heard it when it was first released in 1970;

Love the One You're With, by Stephen Stills

Perhaps this early morning earworm was triggered by an article I'd read before but recently stumbled on again; The Pain of Being in Love with Someone You Can Never Have

The article describes the pain and suffering of being in love with someone where the differences far outnumber and outweigh the benefits. For example, some of the differences might be:

• lifestyle differences
• neat vs sloppy
• spendthrift vs thrifty
• Cher vs Madonna
• lifestyle choices
• wanderlust vs couch potato 
• omnivore vs vegetarian/vegan
• backgrounds/upbringing
• religious
• familial
• goals
• life stage
• political views 
• age 

Sometimes these challenges can get in the way of any couple's relationship in spite of how much in love they are, and therefore cause the couple to journey onward, yet separately...

Love is not always a happy ending, and yes, sometimes it does mean having to say you're sorry...

To read the article click here.

The song suggests that if that is indeed the case, just move on...love the one you are with. Stop pining over the lost one: 

Don't be angry, don't be sad

Don't sit crying over good times you've had....

And if you can't be with the one you love, honey

Love the one you're with 

It ain't that bleeding easy.

I pay attention for and to signs from the Universe, except when they seem to be contradictory or confusing...leaving both my head and heart spinning mercilessly out of control...in which case I throw my hands up and just flail about...

I had a lot of hope in a recent relationship that came to a downright halt after a bit of sputtering. There were many benefits to this relationship, for both of us, yet quite a number of challenges, and I've blogged about them here before.

I consider myself a spiritual person when I'm more connected to my Self, which I haven't been lately. Due to the numerous deep connections we shared, I'd come to believe this man was intended for me as a possible long term relationship, but on a level much, much deeper than a mere soulmate. He mirrored my shadow self, those negative qualities I'd like to quietly ignore but was now being confronted by, and I faced them with his help. I learned more about myself in this relationship than in all the other relationships I'd had, combined.

And he encouraged me to grow. And I did encourage him, as well. We both came a long way, individually and jointly.

On a spiritual level, this kind of deep, connected relationship is called a Twin Flame, which I've written about before here. Part of the characteristics of this type of relationship is the confrontation (with your Twin's help) of your inner demons, your inner challenges, your own dark side. (I'm not talking evil here, just fears, and negative attitudes/behaviors, e.g., rejection, tardiness, etc.) And this confrontation of your shadow self can lead to tremendous personal and spiritual growth, causing this relationship to be very intense, frightening, overwhelming and powerful. Because of the intensity of this relationship, it can be characterized by a breaking-up/coming-back-together cycle (which can be maddening to the human mind and heart) until the souls are ready to move forward in unity, i.e., the souls are ready to face their demons.

So, in short, we may be destined for each other, but maybe not now. And as souls may go through a few incarnations, it might not even be this incarnation when we eventually unite.

The timing of both the article reappearing and the long-forgotten song lyric crawling into my head as this relationship came to an end is very interesting. Perhaps it's a sign? But, of what?

So, believing what I do, do I move on as the song would suggest? Do I allow myself to be open to other relationships while believing this one was/is something special and very unique and might not be replicated? And if I do meet someone, would he live up to the standard now set by this past relationship? And if he doesn't but I choose to stay, would I be settling for someone less than what I believe my Twin Flame could have offered, had he been ready? And would it be fair to non-Twin Flame? Would I have one eye constantly over my shoulder, wondering what if Twin Flame comes back? Or do I just wait it out? Or do I even want to deal with another relationship at all?

Too many questions...

But, isn't that what life is about....?

I guess I'll just mosey along and see what happens...

...because sometimes the most difficult journeys lead to the most beautiful destinations...

Tears

I recently faced an emotionally difficult decision. 

I had to walk away from a relationship I felt held great potential but wasn't moving as forward as well as I would have liked, leaving both of us very frustrated and hurt. While he now realizes he's not ready for something serious and wants to remain just friends for now (his words), and as I would like to see the relationship continue to develop, I believe the standoff would continue to leave us both confused and frustrated knowing that what he wants, I can't give and vice versa. So, I chose to say goodbye to my best friend. I believe we both are heartbroken, empty and feeling quite a loss. I know I am.

And I miss him.

But the tears haven't come.

I have not been able to cry.

This was a most unconventional relationship, one I never expected to be in, caught totally by surprise that I had feelings this deep for someone so different than I am; 

feelings this deep for someone who supported me wholeheartedly in so many levels of my life;

feelings this deep for someone who helped me learn more about myself in the four short years of this relationship than in the combined twenty-four years of my other long-term relationships;

feelings this deep for someone who challenged and encouraged me to think differently, and step outside my comfort zone;

feelings this deep for someone who encouraged me to be myself, no matter who that might be;

feelings this deep for someone who didn't quite fit "the list" I had written post-divorce putting out to the Universe what I wanted in my next partner;

feelings this deep when I had given up hope of meeting someone;

feelings this deep for someone thirty-some years younger than I and over one thousand miles away.

And I miss him badly.

But still the tears can't come.

Does this mean I had already accepted it was over but couldn't face ending it myself? I don't know, I was miserable in the last years of my marriage but couldn't fathom taking that step to end it. 

Does this mean I had hoped things would continue to change even when evidence began pointing to the fact they no longer were? This is hard for me to accept because, for a while, I had seen the changes I had hoped to see, along with the incredible and sincere effort he was making to effect those changes.

Was I reluctant to acknowledge it really wouldn't work because of the differences between us despite all of the amazing green flags that I saw? I don't know.

And I miss him terribly.

But still the tears don't come.

Is this a sign I haven't quite given up hope it will eventually work itself out? We connected creatively. We connected spiritually. We connected first as friends, which grew into deeper feelings that we both wanted to explore; both of us wanting to build the friendship into something bigger, deeper. We both acknowledged this was a relationship unlike any other we had ever had which both frightened and excited us. We had always told each other that his happiness was more important-that whatever made the other happy far superseded our own pain at losing the romance while trying to maintain the friendship.

We could talk openly to each other about anything. We talked openly about the challenges we saw in the relationship. We talked openly about how we felt that together we could conquer the challenges. We talked openly of our fears and helped reassure the other. We talked openly to each other when we were upset and how we could compromise to avoid such issues in the future. We talked openly of our hopes for the relationship, for ourselves and also for each other. We talked openly of our own personal bad days and supported each other in helping him through it. We talked openly of our grief when we lost someone important to us. 

We saw each other as friend, boyfriend or possible partner and we floated between the roles with the ease of a knife sliding through soft butter. I could talk to him as my friend or flirt with him as my boyfriend. I could imagine him sitting next to me in my car; reading a book next to me on my sofa; writing lyrics while I finished a chapter in my novel; lying next to me in my bed cuddling during a rare California rainstorm. It all felt so natural to this jaded old man.

And now it's all gone. I miss it all.

And I miss him so very much.

And still the tears won't come.