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wishing

This morning I had a headache and was hearing voices more than usual.  I was lying in bed, and I felt like I could sleep.  So I put on my cpap mask and turned onto my side, feeling cozy.  Then my mind did something I need it to stop doing.  I thought of the man I loved, wishing for him.

This time I was back in that moment where he rejected me, the day after the night we had sexual contact.  He said that he didn’t want to have sex with me more because he was afraid of losing me, and that he knew it would hurt the woman he was dating back home.

I was shocked, and my body filled with fear.  I stood up, panicked, and needed to go.  He hugged me, and that was it.  I left the room, and I knew that he was going to lose me.

By coming here, having sexual contact with me, and rejecting me the next day, he’d caused a big problem.  Over the next few days, I tried to be ok with what happened, and I tried to explain to him over email how he’d hurt me.

not real to him

He didn’t understand or didn’t care.  I don’t think I was ever real to him.  I wasn’t someone to cherish, honor, care for, learn from.  My well-being was not sacred to him, as his was to me.  I’m a woman–I existed for his pleasure and amusement, and for the support I could give.  His role was to give as little as possible to me, expending the least amount of effort to keep getting my good love.

My well-being was incidental.  He didn’t come here to express love back to me, nurture me, care for me, learn from me, or support my well-being.  He came here to fuck around, be somewhere different, and see what he could get.  His whole M.O. is using people.  But he’s charming, vibrant, brilliant, creative, and gorgeous, so we give him the benefit of the doubt.

So many things I wanted to give him.  But it’s like “I’m rubber–you’re glue.  Whatever you say bounces off me and sticks back to you.”  Anything I gave him seemed to bounce off him, like he couldn’t take anything in.  I don’t remember ever encountering that.

first day

I was thinking today how I wished I could take him to this art place I loved.  “Why didn’t we go there?” I wondered.

Then I remembered that the visit was ruined almost at the beginning.  It was the night of his first full day here that he invited me to his bed, and then the following day that he rejected me.

So we had only that first day, to have fun.  The next few days I was reeling, trying to be ok, and not ok.  I’d try to act normal in the daytime, but feel my feelings in the night.  The truth bubbled up through all the confusion and static.

begging

So lying there this morning, with my cpap mask on trying to sleep, I went back to that moment when he rejected me.

He cited his fear of losing me.  Something inside me knew he was losing me right then.  No, he was not allowed to come here, use me, and continue the friendship like nothing happened.  It wasn’t possible for me to be ok that he did that to me.

Over txt I suggested the next day that he do a forgiveness ritual with me, if he wanted to remain my friend.  He responded to other parts of the txt, ignoring that part.  He said nothing about wanting to help me recover from the way he hurt me.  Either he didn’t understand how badly he’d hurt me, or he didn’t care.

panic gone outer

I imagined–what if I had thrown myself at him.  If my panic had gone outer instead of inner, in that moment, and I said, “Please, friend.  Don’t do this to me.  I need you.  Please don’t reject me like this.  I love you more than anything, and I beg you–please let me close to you.  I would do anything, to stay close to you.”

What would he have done?  My prediction skills fail.  What did he do when he broke up with his ex, and she begged him in a similar way?  I could have responded to his rejection with anger, violence, a scene.  I could have coldly called him a piece of shit, or told him right then to get the fuck out of my house.

What I actually chose–to clam up and leave the room, to manage on my own–was standard Nest behavior.  I needed to protect myself, try to understand what just happened, regroup, and rest as I took the new truths into myself.

container

Really, it would not have been possible for him to have a real relationship with me because there was no safe container.  I gave him a lot of love, but of course it leaked out.  There was no solidity to hold anything.

I’d need a strong, flexible container to pour that much love into.  I’m not about two tablespoons of love–I’m really there, with gallons!  My love is not incidental.

So it wasn’t possible, to do relationship with my friend.  It was doomed, because he wouldn’t bring any strength to the container.  I couldn’t do everything.  There had to be collaboration.  No amount of wishing could change that.

Can I put this wishing to rest now, so I can sleep?

By Nest

Curious, disabled Earth Goddess, telling the truth.

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