Facing the fear

I’ve been afraid to write about it because I know that some of the things I want to say about it are wrong in their eyes. But I’m tired of it. I want to say my piece. I want my side to be heard. Then again, it’s not like any of the ones who mattered to me would be reading this. I could name them but that would violate their privacy. I saw photos of a wedding I would have been at if the Irish boy and I hadn’t broken up in October.

I got teary eyed staring at all the beautiful people I once called friends. And while I know I only have myself to blame for no longer being able to do so, it doesn’t change the fact that I miss them all. Dearly. The Bride was practically my best friend while I was living in Ireland. She is the warmest soul, and the sweetest heart. I would aspire to be like her; in every way1.

Maybe it was never about the cheating, but the lying2. People who know me may think I’m confident but I am human; I have insecurities too. This is my excuse for the lying. The fear of what would happen if I told someone the truth. It took a while, but I’m more comfortable with my truths now. Though the real test would be if I were able to stick to my truths when I start to have romantic feelings for somebody. For all of the relationships I’ve had, I feel like that’ll be the hardest hurdle yet. I know the logic behind it, but that doesn’t help me when I’m in the situation. The emotions are too strong to stay logical.

Going back to the Irish boy. I do miss having him in my life but I feel like it might be too soon for both of us. I know he had said once, soon after we broke up, that he wanted to keep me in his life but I think that was his heartbroken emotions talking. I’m sure he just full out hates me now. Or maybe it’s easier for me to think so. I know I committed the crimes, but that doesn’t make me any less heartbroken at the loss.

But this is my healing, pouring this out like this. If I don’t face it, it’ll stay buried. And all wounds, need oxygen to heal.

Patience.

Footnotes:
  1. and especially in the way that I know matters most to the Irish boy[]
  2. though we don’t talk, so I’m just speculating[]

Remembering and wondering

As you can see from the little section on the sidebar on the right, I’m currently reading The Timetravellers Wife. There was a part that described a street with stores that reminded me of Grafton Street in Dublin. And I was engulfed in nostalgia, then fondness, some sadness and then just complete regret. It was hard to ignore, to avoid, to stop feeling said regret.

I loved walking along Grafton Street, even if I never bought anything more than some groceries at Marks & Spencers. And now more than ever, I feel like I could really use a long wander around that area. Though I have a feeling it has to do with much more than the area. There was a feeling of wholeness, of satisfaction, of belonging that I once felt and I think, more than anything, I miss that.

But I also know that it was just that feeling that I miss. I don’t necessarily miss being with my ex. There are many reasons we weren’t right for each other that I’d really rather not get into. Despite how it all ended, I still feel1 I still wanted him to be the one more than he wanted me to be the one. It felt like he was settling for me even when he told me2 that he had my ring picked out. And even more so when he didn’t put up a fight.

I suppose I can’t blame him. He and I have different views on cheating. This is the guy who expected me to not have slept with anyone while we were broken up in 05/06. I don’t blame him for my actions. But I do wonder why even though he had broken my heart a kazillion times, I still kept in touch with him but now he can’t even be friends with me. Or maybe after my recent “adventures” I know exactly why.

Footnotes:
  1. for the most part[]
  2. as we were breaking up[]

Hindsight is 20/20

As I was catching up on some blogs, something that Rachel said a little while ago really made me realise just how early on I1 should have realised that it wasn’t going to work or that things were starting to fail. Scheduling a weekly skype night seems to make so much sense right now. How did either of us expect that our love would really survive the long distance for such a long time without making each other an actual priority? Simply ‘knowing’ that the other was a priority without really making the effort to do something as simple as scheduling a night to talk and catch up, is just asking for trouble.

Not that it was the single cause but it certainly would have been a good starting point. After that, maybe facing the fear of pissing each other off and fighting would have been another good step. Though that’s a difficult one; we started off fighting. I thought he hated me because his friends hated me. And then there were trust issues… so we started by fighting and it was understandable that neither of us wanted to fight over the long distance.

I know this could be an unhealthy exercise… looking back on why it fell apart2 and what could have saved it. But I think it’s a necessary exercise, so long as I put it away after this. And if I’m being honest? I don’t remember why I insisted so much that we were meant to be together other than I just ‘knew’. Yes, he made me laugh. But for the most part… me made me feel like shit about myself. He judged me because his friends judged me.  Don’t get me wrong, he didn’t out right abuse me 24/7. He was very sweet to me3. And our interests did align, because I forced it to do so. It wasn’t until I moved to Dublin that he really turned around and started treating me the way I knew he could have treated me all along. I was in heaven.

I was devastated when I had to move back to Toronto, but I was optimistic because of how great everything was going. But even 9 months of a perfect relationship doesn’t just heal the past4. And the rest is history really. At least for now.

Footnotes:
  1. we[]
  2. especially when some would argue that the only reason it fell apart is because I cheated. I won’t argue, but I have to be realistic[]
  3. in private quarters[]
  4. unless the past issues were discussed and the air was cleared – which it wasn’t[]

The Spark

I’m not ashamed to admit this but I’ve been watching a lot of Dawson’s Creek1 reruns lately, and its gotten me thinking about relationships. Mostly about how they begin and the crazy mix of feelings that goes along with it. I have my own relationship issues right now and it was actually refreshing to watch people go through something I know I won’t have to again2. But it did make me remember when things started between the boy and I.

I was just finishing my 2nd year of University and trying to end a relationship I had been stuck in for a year and a half. The total length of the relationship was 3 years by the time it was over but I had been unhappy for half of it and didn’t have the heart to break it off with him completely. Everytime he begged me to stay and try to make it work, I would give in because I did love him and he was a very sweet man – but I was no longer in love with him3.

Jon4 had asked us all to meet on the mothership5 for our first meeting as management for the summer. I was excited and also a bit cold. I had never seen him before, and to be honest I was still infatuated with another boy I had met the summer before; one of the bartenders at work who I’ll be calling Dixie6 who I shared a stolen kiss with at the Christmas staff party a few months earlier.

To start the summer off right, the managers were in charge of getting the boats set up for the summer. Making sure all the boats were amply stocked with dry goods, liquor and linens. This meant plenty of cold, early mornings down by the harbourfront; one of the first conversations I can remember having with him was about our love lives as we sat on the grass and enjoyed the Toronto spring sunshine. I didn’t think anything of him, except that I was really comfortable with him and that I loved his accent7.

I’ll be honest and say that I don’t think I admitted to myself that there was a spark between us until someone told me how much he liked me, and how great of guy he was. I must have been scared of something if I was in denial about it for so long, because thinking back… I’m pretty sure he was right when he tells me that there was a spark between us the first time I touched his crotch accidentally as we were bartending on our favourite boat for that one shift.

And while I’m being honest, I should probably tell you that I was so in denial about my feelings for him that I actually went home with Dixie the first night that we kissed. In my defense, it was the summer and I was under the impression that I was a summer fling. So I adjusted my own feelings and acted accordingly. Apparently, I assumed wrong.

As you can see our relationship has been pretty complicated from the start! Here’s hoping this new beginning goes more smoothly than the last two 😉

Footnotes:
  1. mostly the Joey & Pacey episodes of course[]
  2. at least I hope not[]
  3. thinking back, I’m not sure I ever was[]
  4. name has been changed to protect the innocent[]
  5. our largest boat in a fleet of 7, name has been kept private to uh… I don’t know[]
  6. name has *obviously* been changed to protect the innocent[]
  7. ah that damn accent[]