I’ve been thinking things over (and over and over) and trying to come to some decisions and/or realizations. Just trying to make my peace with recent events, I suppose. I imagine this will all sound rather rambling, but it’s where I’m at right now.
I fell in love with a funny, passionate, intelligent man named Dan. He loved me back, and we made happy plans. Then I found out he was married, and I shattered into a million tiny pieces. If you’ve been reading my writings, you know how much I’ve been struggling. It has been hell, and I am still working to come to terms with things. I mentioned in an earlier post how it is almost like the man I loved is dead, or gone, just sort of jerked out of existence by the cheating husband who actually goes by the name Adrian. I don’t know this man Adrian, and honestly I don’t like what I do know about him very much at all. I never loved him, I don’t miss him, want him, need him.
I loved my Dan, and I still miss him, still ache for him. A lot. Or at least the idea of him, the promise of him, I don’t know. It feels kind of like I was rudely awoken from an extremely enjoyable dream, sort of disorienting. I’m trying to view my time with him as exciting and fun while it was happening, something to remember, if not exactly fondly, then at least without regrets. The problem comes when I get broadsided with what might have been. It sneaks up on me and snatches at my breath, even still. I very much wanted what I thought I had, with this person who apparently does not even exist, who had no right to offer his love to me, and I’m so very sad that it’s gone.
That is part of what is so hard to deal with. I thought I had something real and I didn’t, and now I feel like I have to start all over again. Starting over again is exhausting, it really is. I feel like that’s all I’ve been doing, for about the last 10 years. The only significant bright spot in my life in that span of time has been my son, who is now 5, and thank god for him. The rest has been a whole lot of bullshit, frankly. Miscarriages, bankruptcy, depression and failure. I’m a positive person, but it’s been a whole hell of a lot to deal with and I don’t know, maybe it has something to do with why I am taking this whole situation harder than it might otherwise warrant.
I’ve been fighting hard to put myself back out into the world, supporting my son, getting him the help and assistance he needs (he has various autism spectrum disorders), all the things you do to keep on functioning through life’s difficulties. Then I put all my hope and dreams into something that did not work out. And in some ways that is ok, because I DO believe in love and I DO believe in taking chances on it. It could have been real, and if it had been real I would have been so happy, so damn happy. But it wasn’t. So this is a setback. A big one, yeah, but that’s all it is. It’s a part of life. So I’ll keep moving forward, because that is what I do.
And, that’s my burst of positivity, and now I’m done for a while. I can’t sustain it, but at least I’ve managed to have a moment or two of thinking there might be a light at the end of this tunnel. I’m trying, I am. I put it out there, but then the loss of my lover reaches up and slaps me, and it hurts, so bad, so fucking bad.