who's the ECL?
Saturday, March 31, 2007
I promised myself that when I caught up on my sleep, phone calls, emails, work, and had some free time I would sit down and write this post.
I have been really upset and angry and heartbroken for a long time now. By no means am I out of the woods, but I am well on my way. I don't feel as raw as I did. I am being more honest with myself about our relationship--good and bad. I recognise now that the hardest part about letting him go is letting go of my future dreams. I had dreamt up a pretty good life with Josh, and it is hard to let go of the fantasy and accept the cold hard reality. Mainly because reality leaves me all alone--today, probably tomorrow, and maybe even for a long time to come.
I don't like looking at my own aloneness.
For a while there in the winter, both real and emotional, I had given up any hope of finding anybody with whom I could spend the rest of my life with and vice versa. I am high maintenance. I like a lot of attention. I have an ever changing emotional temperament and my feelings can be felt and expressed quite intensely. People liken me to a volcano. Sometimes I spew joy and exuberance and love and sometimes I spew frustration and disappointment and verbal insults at the idiot drivers all around me.
For a while there I didn't believe I would ever find somebody who would love me ever again. Because he did love me, for who I was, and that was the most empowering and enveloping feeling ever. I felt like I could grow taller and reach deeper and fly higher because he saw me for who I am and loved me for it. I hadn't had another man understand me quite like he did.
For a while I thought I needed to get the hell out of here because too much of this city is tied up in memories of him. If I left, even he couldn't have those memories anymore. He wouldn't be able to find me anymore. If I left, I could hide from my own failures and begin again. And if I left, maybe I might be able to meet somebody. For a while I believed that Portland was a barren wasteland when it comes to available good men.
For a while I resigned myself to believing that I would just be one of those wonderful women who has a brilliant career, who changes people's lives on a daily basis, and lives alone, alone, alone. Actually, I am still haunted by that possibility. I see it around me, in my mentors, teachers, and spiritual leaders. And I know I could easily be one of them--I have such a deep and enduring passion for birth that I could turn all my (volcanic) energy and effort into changing this country and giving women the options and chances and support that they need.
For a while I was so heartbroken and confused that I gave up on love. I didn't want it, it only brought pain and suffering, it sucks, it hurts, I hate it. No more love for me.
For a while I believed he was my last chance at love. For a while I believed he was the love of my life. For a while I believed he was The One. For a while I believed that we'd come back together, even if it was three or four or five years in the future. For a while I believed I could wait for him.
The winter doldrums and my wounded heart seemed to be in cahoots this year, and I didn't see an end in sight.
But, then we started having some sunny days.
Then the daffodils started blooming.
Then all of a sudden I looked around and there was life and renewal happening. And I began to feel a little bit of an easing in my own heart. I kid you not. The weather has a powerful influence on us. It find it interesting how my own saga has been in tune with the seasons this year.
I decided that he couldn't have this city anymore. And that the memories I have of him that are tied up in places, events, seasons, and things, are just that--memories. I have set upon taking those places back. It has been fun, mostly.
I took away his own special ringtone.
I decided that maybe by the summertime I'd have a better outlook on love and my possibilities, and this damned city I live in. I have a love-hate relationship with Portland.
Then I read this post from the Gluten-Free Girl, and everything is changing. That post reminded me not to give up on love. And it inspired me to hope for love, a good love, a real love, a true and enduring love, right here in Portland Oregon.
There are good men here, I'm sure of it. And I'm sure one of them will want to love this crazy emotional, cake baking little ECL. And vice versa, of course.
I'm not out of the woods yet, but I can see a break in the trees.
I thank Creator everyday for all those daffodils.