It's Not You, It's Me ......

Coming off of a less than stellar weekend – the actual holiday withstanding – and grieving over my latest relationship woes, I’ve been forced to go deep inside myself to do the work of a pathologist in an effort to determine what brought about my most recent demise, and it would seem the unfortunate cause of death appears to be directly related to me, my own thoughts and actions. Whether you’re a man or a woman, it’s always easier to blame your partner whenever a breakdown leads to a break-up, but if we are to learn anything worth taking forward, then we must be willing to take responsibility for our own part in the totality of what went wrong.

I suppose my greatest fear could be likened to the same way a severed spinal cord leaves its victim permanently paralyzed, I may have suffered too much in love over the years through my various attempts at relationships to ever be able to sustain a healthy one for too long. I try …. God knows I try, but fears related to abandonment, verbal abuse and abject dishonesty haunt me on a somewhat regular basis, and although I tell myself it’s unfair to project the sins of one onto another, it’s impossible not to once I detect any form of questionable behavior. It’s as if I’m perpetually waiting for that other shoe to drop or at least an unpleasant surprise that catches me completely off guard and sends me spiraling into despair.

Therefore, in order to protect my heart from almost unbearable pain, I effectively turn in my notice with the intention of immediate departure while I still have some semblance of pride and dignity still left intact. As such, I’ve developed my own terminology for this malady, i.e. I am an emotional cutter: though painful – one who must be the first to sever all ties in a relationship before those ties can be severed with her. This way I am the one in control of how much pain is suffered and when.

I suppose that makes me something of a masochist, but then aren’t all cutters masochistic? Don’t we all need to suffer just a little in order to feel truly alive? Or at the very least it is a coping mechanism designed for handling a wave of unpleasant emotions that threaten to take me to a place so dark, I fear I may not be able to find my way back home again.

At the very minimum I’ve come to understand that I expect too much ….. love, honesty and the kind of deep connection with one other human being that is impenetrable – and therefore safe – from the outside forces that might seek to infiltrate, plant seeds of doubt and eventually bring about ruination. But most of all I expect a partner who remains present in my life because he wants to be and not because he’s been badgered into it. It sure seems like a lot when I write it all down, but then I’m willing to give something in return in the form of my complete and total devotion to making his world a better place than it’s ever been …. to support his dreams as if they were my own, to always have his back, to give him freedom when he needs it, and to serve his needs alone while remaining faithful in all I think, say and do.

Maybe I’m just too old-fashioned and traditional relationships aren’t really possible anymore. Maybe I’m just too old, as statistics don’t give me actually finding true love much of a fighting chance. Maybe I’m better off alone, because then I can’t hurt anybody, and nobody can hurt me anymore. I’d like to think it was still possible, but even at this point I’d rather not settle for anything less than my dreams ….if I can’t feel butterflies every time he walks in a room, then it’s just not happening.

I apologize for my miserable tone, but these are the emotions I’m endeavoring to work through on this day, and I am nothing if not authentic, even to the point of putting my cra cra out there. So for now I’ll adopt a Scarlett O’Hara attitude – quite possibly my favorite of all Southern Belles – by reminding myself, “Tomorrow is another day.”