Learning Curve

The real questions we all have to ask ourselves is WHY am I still single? And, Do I really want a full partner, or just an appendage that can fit into the blanks in my own personal relationship madlib?

In my own case, I am single because of trust. I have been divorced twice, and burned badly by lies. You will have to earn my respect and my trust. I am sorry, but there it is. The truth is that not many people I have met the last few years seem to have actual “partnership potential”. I have learned the hard way that with out that, I am much better on my own. I already have plenty of friends.

Seeking a grown up man, with partnership potential:

An emotionally available guy, with a good job, a working vehicle, and healthy friendships of his own. He has the ability to consistently demonstrate a sense of honesty, integrity, and loyalty. A man that has discipline and compassion, realistic goals, room in his life to grow into a real and healthy relationship with a loving woman, and the ability and desire to openly and effectively communicate with a real partner. Not addicted to, or overly dependent on behaviors, cigarettes, drugs or alcohol.

-in other words, a healthy, handsome guy that is not a emotionally stunted or a sociopath- funny, isn't that what every woman wants? So why is it so hard to find? I have met a lot of guys that seem pretty good at appearing to be like this, but who seem to have dark little secrets that prevent them from upholding several pieces of this puzzle, Is it really so much to ask?

So now I find I am caught between a man I have run from, that possessed me with a passion unlike any I have known, Neal held me down and defined me, expecting me to fit into his projected ideal. But there is another man I have always loved with calm, loving compassion that both fills and frees me to be all of who I am. So one man held me tight while constantly rejecting me, making me feel I was never enough, never quite right enough to warrant approval, until I fled, and I am still cutting my loses and licking my wounds, unclear how to proceed without cutting him out of my existence, and praying a lot.

Another man holds me in his arms, tells me several times a day how much he loves me, spoons me, and tells me how adorable I am to him, yet won't commit to the definition of relationship between us. I let Kevin hold me, kiss my forehead, and whisper sweet nothings, I allow his affections but am careful not to match or return them with anything resembling ardor. I am careful to allow him to shower me with affection, but not to expect anything at all, or any kind of meaning. We have a history, I know he has a passionate side and that I could and do love him totally, but he has rejected me more then once when we've started attempting to define what we have, so it seems my best bet is to not do anything sudden or defining.

Yet I am left wondering if either of these relationships are reciprocal. The first certainly was not which is what made me leave. But the second? Just because I do not respond from a place of over the top 100% of what I am used to, does not mean I do not respond at all, or do not feel an equal affection as is shown to me. A part of me chose to come here and to be in the life of this man in what ever way he will have me, be it platonic, priestly or passion filled. But does he meet my criteria? Will an association with him, keep me from meeting or having an opportunity to connect with the man that will meet my criteria?

All Kinds

Reciprocal relationships come in many sizes and shapes. In a love affair there must be reciprocal respect or trust fails, and with out trust there can be no love. We can love the person, but the relationship itself can become bad or unhealthy, and we have nothing worth fighting for except ourselves.

“The greatest thing we will ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.” -Moulin Rouge. And it is true. All types of relationships require respect and reciprocity to work well. Friendships work because this is clear cut, but our relationships with relatives are often stormier when this is not such an obvious or well defined component of them. Is it any wonder that our love affairs become cloudy and complicated if our other relationships are damaged, non-existent or overly interdependent.

Reciprocity and mutual respect are very different qualities from co-dependance or inappropriate interdependence. A good friend and psychology major, who enjoys a poly-amorous lifestyle of relationships suggested listing what makes friendships good. And to then apply those important aspects and criteria to my future relationship potential.`

Response to a dating website

Have you ever noticed the arc of relationships? like the enchantment phase, the sex phase, the serious phase, then the baggage phase where you almost hate each other... this is where most people break up, but if they don't, they get through it to the reality phase and they like each other again in a much deeper more meaningful way. That is the REAL thing.

You cant rush it, or bypass the hurdles, or jump forward to instant deep intimacy, but this is the very best phase I think... the best friends and lovers part, that we all SAY we want to get to. And like it or not, only a commitment through the rough part gets us there. If someone breaks up in the rough part then the commitment was pretty pointless, because no one needs a commitment to hang together when its ALL fun and games.

So WHY are we all single again or still?

what have I learned?

Justice. Reciprocity.
Without love, life is pretty empty and lonely, to some its almost nothing. Without trust, love is choked to death and lies bleeding on the floor. Apathy kills all possibility of passion and trust dwindles in its wake. If you feel or suspect something strange, or off, or less then fabulous, its probably accurate and true, but its good to have an unbiased soundboard for a reality check.

She loved him. They were both old enough to know better, but decided to roll the dice. He romanced her, seduced her and later even confessed to hypnotizing her to win her over. She gave it her all: money, time, heart, soul, creativity, service and did anything he asked just to try and please him. He quickly stopped respecting her, or doing anything that might have pleased her. He did not seem even remotely concerned with her pleasure, or happiness, but used her body, devotion, affection, and sense of submissive service to comfort and justify his self righteous detachment, and emotional abuse. She crumbled.

In the end, at the hardest time of year, in the dark, and cold, and personal hell pit of empty nest, and past sentiments, he told her to go, knowing she had nothing, and then he even scolder her for that. "You should have saved your money". "You should not have made choices I would not have made"... etc. etc. Scorning her devotion, and withholding any approval at all, and throwing her away in the dead of winter, like refuse, after using her up, the minute the rent rate dropped a bit.

"I have been through worse!" she told herself, and him. "You cant hurt me anymore". He had slowly, methodically cut her out of his affection and the various aspects of the life they had been building together, why should it be different now? Of course the trend was going to continue until it extended to physicality. anyone could have predicted that almost to easily.

She was a smart girl, she should have seen it coming. Part of her did, but it didn't fit with everything she knew and believed about him, and what a "great guy" he was reputed to be, so she turned a blind eye, whistling past the graveyard, throwing herself even harder into her commitment to Be present and work it out.

So now in the dead, dark cold, the little match girl once more finds herself alone, unprepared and shivering, as her life force drains pathetically away; trying to sell her tiny sparks of flame to those who do not honor or value her and what she has to offer. Dreaming about warmth, and family, and the wonderful joy of Christmas dinner, and glowing faces holding hands and singing thier heart songs to one another. It is to late to do it differently now. But what can she do now? can she save herself? She cannot dance in the red shoes from the old women, she cannot recapture what has been lost. She has no home and no direction.

What can she do? Where can she go? She has no money and no sense of self preservation. She has no sense of home except the one she has been banished from. How can she survive this round of winters fury without frost bite in her very heart and soul? How can she make better choices in the future? One cannot be commited while holding oneself back or only stepping up halfway. I need to know the answers. If you have them please let them fly forth from your lips, on the wings of compassion. I must know. I must know NOW. This little match girl is me.

walking away homesick

It had to be done, and as I argue with myself, my nose is buried in the dirty, tear stained shirts I stole when I left today. I knew I wouldn't sleep with out the smell of him. I will be lucky to sleep at all, even after a string of restless nights, and the prospect of a full days work ahead of me. So I find me, crying myself to sleep, and not for the first time this week. My heart a lump of lead in my throat, my guts twisted into knots, and a chill from the inside that no heater can warm.

I don't ever want to love again; to risk so much of my fragile, hopeful heart, and to desire anyone like this again, the fire in the pants, the never ending butterflies in the stomach, the breathless hunger that catches in the throat; and just knowing I feel this way slams shut the fairytale, and crushes some deep part of my soul. I have been in love with love as long as I can remember, but never have I tasted the breadth of its promise, only the thorns, and wistfulness, the self sacrifice and longing, but never the bloom held in my hand and recognized or celebrated for its truthful essence. The easy, laughing, indulgence of mutually enthralled passion and total trust blended in its heady mix of realistic idealism, and celebration of the lover, returned and fostered with a truly equal partner.

I hope he will miss me as much as I miss him, that he will crave my scent, my touch, my eager upturned mouth demanding ever more of his scant and stingily withheld kisses. I hope his arms will ache from emptiness and long to hold me, and he will wish for the opportunity to stroke my hair and bestow the kisses and caresses, the declarations and sweet talk he has withheld. I fear he will be relieved to be rid of me, will bask in the silent space of my wake and then set about eradicating and finally replacing me with an easier model. Some superficial woman, who doesn't crave the intimacy and connection I seek. Some bimbo who only cares about how things "appear" to everyone else... like he seemed to once he actually got me home.

Maybe I am not right for him. He is so very closed off now with bitterness, guilt and resentment, but for that, he is close to perfect for me, in ways I could not have foreseen, and my cynicism and defeat lie heavy in my heart, caught in my throat as I write, and breathe and pull on the old familiar smock of grief and loneliness. I was alone through two marriages, always just an after thought, the second fiddle to my beloveds true passion. I still don't understand why they both wanted so very much to make me their wife, when they rarely had a moment to devote to me or the health of the relationship itself. That is why I had to leave tonight, I vowed to never settle for second place again, and to many nights crying, and days begging for crumbs of affection or some sign of my importance...

To his credit he has tried. He has risen to the challenge of trying to love me, which is more then I can say for either of my husbands. I don't really want to collect men like trophies, though that may be how it looks to outsiders, and I may play along, perpetuating the misunderstanding, to keep from showing my sappy, vulnerable underbelly. But really, I am a romantic. A silly, little daydreaming girl, waiting for her prince in a world of thieves and snakes and liars. In my life, I went with the wizard, the vagabond, the priest, and even the knight, but none could speak the magick of my soul, although each loved me completely in his own, slightly removed kind of way.

This man, the one I have run away from, was my first Prince, he was and is a prince among men. I truly tell everyone that he is the best man I have ever known, and it is no lie. He is the one that could have unlocked every fairy tale for me if he but wished it himself, if he could defeat his own demons, and decides that it is Me he actually wants, but I cannot decide or do battle for him. All that I can do is wait, and hope and try to carry on, regardless. So I pray, and breathe and tell my self that each moment that passes gets me further away from the awful moment I had to choose, that each moment gets easier, and the minutes creep like hours in the long summer sun.

"oh for a man, if I were a man! For a man can die of battle, but instead I must die a woman, of weeping" (from Shakespeare)

Why did I run? I did not want to. It was very difficult, but our relationship was not fully reciprocal. He was always lost in his demons, and unable to be present or to appreciate me as I long to be cherished, he was shut down and emotionally unavailable. Triggering my anxiety disorder to the point of absolute and constant absurdity; because I have been there before, its sort of been my specialty, and although I cannot bear to part from the one I love, neither could I bear to only be second best, to a man I deeply love and long to stand hand in hand with to face all of life.

I felt like some consolation prize sent to comfort him in his loneliness and despair, but my needs were always secondary or not addressed at all. From sexually, to emotionally, to the errands of the day on most days. I had to go, however painful, rather then condone that continued, emotional abuse, and heartbreaking treatment of being taken for granted. Even when nothing was wrong, he was to busy with one of his friends problems or hobbies to include me or even ask about what I had on my plate; I had to go while I loved him, so I wouldn't grow to resent him one bit more.

Will he come for me someday, will he actually see and love ME enough to prioritize me in his life even a little? To begin to consider my needs to be as valid and important as his own? Its a brilliant wish of hope, but not really likely. They never really do, do they? Does a man really come after a woman he truly loves? (Yet I have seen men follow other women before.) Is any man capable of truly loving beyond his egotistical and biological needs? Or do they just find women who put up with them, and baby them along, day in and day out, a patsy of servitude to make it SEEM to work? Can't I have the fairy tale of one good man that loves ME for myself and is both willing and capable of being fully present and participatory ? Please?

Live and Learn

Sometimes when we are not sure of exactly what we want, we first have to learn what we don't want. Thus the term "Experience is one thing you can't get for nothing."

My perfect partner is capable of and willing to develop and nurture true intimacy and communication. I have not seen much of that in humanity, and even less in men, yet I continue to see evidence that they are out there. He is educated, responsible and has a full time job and a sense of purpose on the planet. But makes time in his life for relationships, fun, and romance. He is compassionate towards others, and cares about the well being of others including me, as much as himself. He is chivalrous, but not at all chauvinistic.

He has a variety of interests and healthy hobbies, and is happy to share them with me when I show an interest as well. He enjoys taking me places I have never been before. He never tires of pleasing and impressing me. He loves my shyness and my sense of adventure and enjoys indulging it in every way. Even after the "honey moon phase." I feel very valued, seen, and special to him and he loves knowing that. And loves and values the ways I spoil and strive to please him in return.

He takes steps to maintain good health and is not a smoker. He is not a stoner, or drug addict. He has a healthy, balanced "take it or leave it" attitude towards technology, sports, and drinking. He does not gamble and respects nature and wildlife. He enjoys and respects me for who I am and does not hesitate to tell me the things he loves about me. He genuinely likes my company.

He likes to talk to me, and share his real self, and inner thoughts and feelings so I can truly know him. I never have to beg for affection, because he loves me deeply, and loves kissing me. We make out all the time. He makes the time to make love leisurely and thoroughly and makes my pleasure more important then his own. He is not bored, worn out, or used up sexually, and is excited to share that part of our relationship with me specifically. He frequently steps outside himself to ensure that I am always having a good time no matter where we go, or what we are doing.

Reciprocation. Reciprocity. Balance.

Reciprocation. reciprocity. balance. give and take. it does not always come in the forms we are expecting that it should, but that hardly means that it does not exist. Merely that our untrained eye has not learned to recognize all the forms it may exist in.

We have decided to keep the dog. Is that a relationship that is based on the components of justice and reciprocity? absolutely. is it a lot of work? yes.

There is a little beatnik cafe on campus that I like to frequent to write and stare out at the trees. A place I can indulge strong, badly made coffee, with vegetarian home style food. It feeds my inner poet. Would I tell them they are beatniks in this day and age? absolutely not. even though the students around me engage one another in existential conversations, while sporting edgy haircuts and long scarves with tall boots or balding no-sock-sneakers with quirky hats. Is this reciprocal relationship?