I was dumped.
Not a grand announcement, I didn't even change my FB status. But still. 35 and unceremoniously, completely-caught-off-guard dumped.
It was nauseatingly civil: the reasons explained, divvying up the stuff, the friends, who does what going forward.
It's been a while since this happened to me, so it feels sharper and keener. But I've tried at the end of every relationship (my choice or not) to see where to go with the rest of my life. If this didn't work, what would? What do I want to try now might not have before?
What do I have to do to be the person I want to be when I grow up? How do I get there?
The idea of doing something different in life distracts me from the pain. But I still know it's been 13 days, 23 hours since I was... released.
Weird things have been happening to me for the last few weeks, surrounding the release period. The day before it happened, I was in the shower talking with God. The water pounded, I was in a confined space, and there was nothing else I had to do for the time it took me to take a shower.
I talked to God about this thing that bothered me. See, I've had a crush on someone so far outside the realm of possibility for so long, I don't know how to have a crush on anyone else.
It felt disloyal since I was seeing someone else. And you don't leave a relationship where needs are met and life is good to walk up to someone you've met through friends of friends and say, Hi. I've thought you were cool since before the second Matrix movie was released. I'm not a stalker (usually), but what're you doing for the rest of your life?
Seriously.
I started tapping my head against the tile. 'Cause I must have had a psychotic break, and this is a sign. Well, at least I'll be clean and smell good when the nice, nice men in the white, white suits coming knocking.
I started rinsing off, and one line from one song I can't stand from the 80s stuck in my head. From one singer whose voice makes me twitch. From one song of the dozens she wrote.
One line. Over. And over. And again.
Love will make a way.
Seriously.
I come to You in a sacred moment of authenticity, with this thing bothering me I can't talk about with anyone else, and the answer is... Amy Grant.
Ok.... psychotic break sign #2. Got it. Great.
The shower had a reason - a friend needed a ride to the airport. At her place, she admitted (since it was our first time) she hates being driven to the airport. Time restraints, questions about routes, security, work stuff, home things, all the details flood her brain on the way to the plane.
So she asked me to ramble.
I had God, Amy Grant and Psychotic Breaks 1 and 2. Rambling - covered.
45 minutes later, she asked if it was Ok if she cut in with feedback. She started with if God was using Amy Grant, I must have ignored everything else. Ow.
And then it got personal, starting with if you can't share faith, everything else will suffer for it. So what if he's an atheist and I'm a Christian? He still gets a stocking at Christmas and eggs at Easter... and I don't get razzed if I miss service. Win. Win.
She... somehow didn't agree, and said I needed to break it off. I had no idea how I would do that.
We pulled into the designated traveler drop-off not too long later, and off she went. I was alone in the car with my thoughts, deafening silence, and my friend's words lingering in the air.
The next day... I was dumped.
Now, I have to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life. And who I'd like to do it with.
It's not a big deal, won't even affect my FB status.
But still. 35 and not psychotic. Single and wandering, befuddled but free.
Where the hell do I go from here?
Not a grand announcement, I didn't even change my FB status. But still. 35 and unceremoniously, completely-caught-off-guard dumped.
It was nauseatingly civil: the reasons explained, divvying up the stuff, the friends, who does what going forward.
It's been a while since this happened to me, so it feels sharper and keener. But I've tried at the end of every relationship (my choice or not) to see where to go with the rest of my life. If this didn't work, what would? What do I want to try now might not have before?
What do I have to do to be the person I want to be when I grow up? How do I get there?
The idea of doing something different in life distracts me from the pain. But I still know it's been 13 days, 23 hours since I was... released.
Weird things have been happening to me for the last few weeks, surrounding the release period. The day before it happened, I was in the shower talking with God. The water pounded, I was in a confined space, and there was nothing else I had to do for the time it took me to take a shower.
I talked to God about this thing that bothered me. See, I've had a crush on someone so far outside the realm of possibility for so long, I don't know how to have a crush on anyone else.
It felt disloyal since I was seeing someone else. And you don't leave a relationship where needs are met and life is good to walk up to someone you've met through friends of friends and say, Hi. I've thought you were cool since before the second Matrix movie was released. I'm not a stalker (usually), but what're you doing for the rest of your life?
Seriously.
I started tapping my head against the tile. 'Cause I must have had a psychotic break, and this is a sign. Well, at least I'll be clean and smell good when the nice, nice men in the white, white suits coming knocking.
I started rinsing off, and one line from one song I can't stand from the 80s stuck in my head. From one singer whose voice makes me twitch. From one song of the dozens she wrote.
One line. Over. And over. And again.
Love will make a way.
Seriously.
I come to You in a sacred moment of authenticity, with this thing bothering me I can't talk about with anyone else, and the answer is... Amy Grant.
Ok.... psychotic break sign #2. Got it. Great.
The shower had a reason - a friend needed a ride to the airport. At her place, she admitted (since it was our first time) she hates being driven to the airport. Time restraints, questions about routes, security, work stuff, home things, all the details flood her brain on the way to the plane.
So she asked me to ramble.
I had God, Amy Grant and Psychotic Breaks 1 and 2. Rambling - covered.
45 minutes later, she asked if it was Ok if she cut in with feedback. She started with if God was using Amy Grant, I must have ignored everything else. Ow.
And then it got personal, starting with if you can't share faith, everything else will suffer for it. So what if he's an atheist and I'm a Christian? He still gets a stocking at Christmas and eggs at Easter... and I don't get razzed if I miss service. Win. Win.
She... somehow didn't agree, and said I needed to break it off. I had no idea how I would do that.
We pulled into the designated traveler drop-off not too long later, and off she went. I was alone in the car with my thoughts, deafening silence, and my friend's words lingering in the air.
The next day... I was dumped.
Now, I have to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life. And who I'd like to do it with.
It's not a big deal, won't even affect my FB status.
But still. 35 and not psychotic. Single and wandering, befuddled but free.
Where the hell do I go from here?
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