I woke up to a Dear Jane text about a month ago. She finally found the courage to do what I myself could not. It was the same day I wrote my last post. I kinda needed a minute to process…
Back in August we were brimming with aggression and I kinda lost it and told her it was over. That I had hit the wall and was finally done. And then when she was gone, I actually missed her. We went out on a few “dates”. She brought me flowers. We picnicked at a private beach. And we talked. Alot. She moved back in and we had two beautiful weeks. But, after 3 months, things really didn’t get any better.
Hence the Dear Jane text.
I’m a little all over the emotional map right now and sitting in a weird place of gratitude, terror and failure. I imagine that’s gonna last for awhile. My new normal. Along with all the other things that are a new fucking normal. So over it. 🤨
I came out at 47 because I met and fell in love with a woman named P. I have felt sexually drawn to women since childhood so, when I met her and felt so many feels, I knew I had to leave my relationship with him of almost 18 years, and move into her. And kinda knew it almost instantly.
But we did it all wrong. I see that now.
Hindsight and all that.
She had alot of baggage filled with insecurities. I don’t think you can live to be 50 and not have some baggage, but her baggage had baggage. I tried to be patient and understanding cuz I had baggage of my own, but her personality was all or nothing. She was larger than life and I got completely lost in her stuff. Never have I ever acted less like me than when I was with her. And yet, there were times when I swore I could walk on water. Yeah, it was a very confusing time. For both of us I think. But I could be wrong. And after almost 5 years of stupid crazy, and obsessive meltdowns, and an undeniable love that could never find the correct expression, she left.
Unhappy with me.
Definitely unhappy with herself.
Where do you go once that’s been established?
Shortly after she left, I met K. Not planned at all, but life happens. She was kind and geneorous and funny, and she just sort of fell into my life and stayed. She tried to take me away from all the hurt. Tried to show me what healthy love really looked like. Tried being the operative word. I was so broken that I couldn’t see what a gift she was. All I could see and feel was P. But the idea of moving from Toronto, and the pain and temptation, to anywhere else sounded good, so I let K take me away.
I soon learned that distance is not a healer.
Truth is my heart couldn’t let go of the past. So, there were always three of us in the relationship. K didn’t really stand a chance. She knew. And she tried. God knows she tried. But, like a love sick puppy, or a die-hard romantic – still undecided… maybe both – I held on to P way longer than I should have because that’s who I am. Optimistic and loyal to a fault. I don’t give up easily on the people I love. And I loved her so very, very much. Ultimately, and not that long ago, it was she who made the decision, for both of us, to severe our connection. And I had no choice but to finally let her go.
Yeah. First loves are a bitch. And mine kinda fucked me up bad. I’m not sure I will ever truly be the same again. K often tells me she wishes she had met me first. Maybe, if she had, all this damage would be…fixable? Or maybe none of it would have happened at all? But, I didn’t meet her first and now, nearly 7 years later, I find myself on my own…
And I’m not quite sure how I feel about it. It’s all very…surreal.
To be fair it was me who forced this ending. I had become distant. Feeling trapped and disappointed with where my coming out had landed. K did everything right. She is the most wonderful, giving and selfless person I have ever met. She saw that I was unhappy and recognized that I needed to be alone. So she left. It wasn’t what she wanted at all. I was her forever. I have the ring to prove it.
But a few months ago I had one of those clear, life changing, epiphany moments and realized, probably not long after she did, that I needed to be on my own. I had jumped from one relationship right into another, and never gave my broken heart time to heal. Even I know that’s a no no, but when you’re hurting, you do some fucked up shit.
I tried to move on. But I never really did.
I tried to embrace the love this new woman offered. But I didn’t know how.
I tried to be happy and grateful for the gift she is, and some days I was. But mostly I wasn’t. Cuz I’m an idiot who leads with her heart and not her brain.
The heart is a formidable opponent and when it decides only one thing will do, it becomes implacable.
K left me so that I can figure out what I want. What I need. Said I deserve the space I need to figure that out. She left so I could have it. She loves me and I know she does. She’s shown me that love every single day from the moment I met her. And I will always be grateful to her for her staying in my life when others would have run for the hills. Even now, in our parting, I feel her love. And I know I haven’t made loving me an easy thing for her.
I thought K would be mean and selfish when we broke up. Early on in our relationship, she said things spoken in anger from a place of hurt, and I assumed the worst. But she has been kind and generous and unbelievably loving. She told me once that if I was ever going to leave her, I should put my ring with a note and leave it on her pillow.
Guess the cosmic joke is on me.
I was the one who recieved the Dear Jane text.
Funny how life works.
So, right now Im feeling a little lost and a bit lonely.
Last night I was thinking that I actually can’t remember when I wasn’t in a relationship. Crazy, right? Being single is completely foreign to me, and while K and I are still close and will hopefully remain friends…who knows what the future will bring? All I know is that this is not where I thought I would be when I came out 12 years ago. I was so full of hope and love and dreams. Maybe a bit too naive? Maybe I romanticized being with a woman? I don’t know anymore. What I do know is that right now I’m sitting in a thick puddle of icky failure and a whole lot of what ifs, and it all sucks. And while I still have moments when I think maybe I should have just stayed with him, I can’t truthfully say I regret coming out. There has been an equal amount of good along with the bad. That’s real.
Who knows. Maybe this will be a good for me? Or maybe not. Undecided at this point. I love my alone time. I always have. But I don’t like feeling lonely. But really. Who does?
So I’m taking lots of deep breaths. Trying to ground myself. Find my zen. Acknowledging that I am an amazing, beautiful but flawed human, and that I’m not a failure at all. I was brave enough to go after a dream. Yeah, I got broken bad, and I’m not fully recovered yet, but I am healing. And I’m moving forward cuz that’s the only direction to go now.
I really, really hope I got this.
Stay safe. Be kind.