Heaven holds a sense of wonder….

Another hard day.

It was easier when our cycles were synced. They synced up immediately when we first started dating. But due to sickness and medications and stress, I finish bleeding when she starts. When our cycles matched exactly (right down to the hour), we knew when to give and take space. We knew when to be emotional with one another and when to let the stupid things we say go. We’d have a fight and let the storm crash over us and let soothing endorphins wash over us as the angry clouds receded. We were in tune.

In the last couple of months, though, it’s changed. We’re over-sensitive with one another. We push buttons without intending to. We’re careless, thoughtless. It’s more work.

Just another chance for us to grow as a couple. Things can’t always match perfectly. Sometimes the pieces need to be turned or, in extreme cases, their shape needs to change. Sometimes we have to create something entirely different out of what we have than what was our original intent.

The shape of things doesn’t need to change. We very much fit together, compliment one another. But a little inner revolution is happening. We’re both growing, in different ways.

She’s floundering. All of this is happening to her. She’s in quicksand, trying to relax. Every time she does, she feels like she’s being sucked back in, and she panics and it all starts over again. The bills keep piling up, her job demands more and more, the kids come home from their dad’s house a bigger mess than when they left. She can’t let go of these things. They’re vital to our existence. She can’t find Zen. If she releases her attachment to these things, the kids end up homeless.

She needs to refocus. Maybe she can’t let go of the bills and the kids and her job, but she can let go of the emotions.

Easier said than done.

And I can’t tell this to her. She has to find it on her own. These words will have no meaning if they come from me, from outside. She has to be open to them. And she’s floundering, and the more she flails, the harder she falls.

It’s the old lifeguard trick. When rescuing a drowning person, chances are they will fight you – not because they’re scared of you, but because they’re in survival mode, because the reptilian brain has taken over and all they can do is struggle for their life. It is impossible to relax. So you, their rescuer, relax for them. Let them pull you down deeper as they fall. And when the fight’s gone out of them, then you swim for air, bringing them with you.

She can’t relax. But I can. I can choose not to fight back, I can choose to focus on the long-term goals of safety and well-being. She can pull me down with her, as long as I know that I’m not really in danger, I can bring us back.

I gotta keep it together for the both of us.

This, too, shall pass.


{February 22, 2010}   A connection…

She says she misses me so much she could cry. And when I’m around, she tells me I cling. I go out without her while she works, and she has a 15 minute break where she gets to stop at home, and I’m not there, and she feels robbed. And when she comes home after work and I bring her a beer and breakfast, she turns on her favorite shows and I don’t exist.

I get it. She wants me around, but I don’t have to be right there. I’m not good at giving space, co-dependency comes naturally to me. Without reconnection in the way I understand it, I feel panic set in. I’m uneasy in my skin. Is she angry? Did I do something wrong? I don’t need her undivided attention the whole time. I know when she comes home from work, she needs to unplug from the world and forget it exists. Her job takes so much out of her. She doesn’t get a lot of time to herself during the week, she says. Unless she’s asleep.

Yesterday I was up at 5:30 a.m. to let my brother in my house to crash. She felt cheated of her alone time. She says she only gets Sunday mornings while I’m asleep and she comes home early from work. The rest of the time, I’m clinging to her or the kids are demanding her, and she’s ok with that, she says, she’s ok with me clinging and the kids demanding, as long as she gets that one day. I tell her she needs more than that one day, if that’s really the way her life is, that’s not right…. and I’m thinking about it, and I realize, I work two or three days out of the week when the kids are gone, and she has two to four hours to herself, awake, without anyone else in the house… why doesn’t that alone time count?

I think she needs to have alone time without her favorite shows. I think she needs to find her hobbies and her passions again. She used to have a lot, and this job has sucked the life out of her, and transitioning from single-hood to step-parenthood has not been easy, and I think she’s losing herself.

It’s no wonder she’s sick all the time. It’s no wonder she’s depressed and angry.

A lot of her friends stopped talking to her when she and I started dating. My ex allowed people to believe that if it wasn’t for her, he and I would still be happily married. No one bothered to ask me. Only a few people asked her. Everyone else just assumed it was the truth. Between missing friends and missing funds, she doesn’t go out as much as she used to before we met. Neither do, I for that matter. Now, she sits at home and watches all her favorite shows on Hulu and plays a bunch of silly games, and I’ve fallen into that trap too.

When we spend time together, it revolves around the computer or the TV or the bar or the bed.

Not real conducive to finding things in life to be excited about.

We talk about getting out and doing fun things – going to the art museum, wandering around the cemetary, heading to the dog park. And when it comes time, plans seem to fall through – one of us is too tired, we forget.


If this relationship is a priority, if we are priorities to one another, we’ve got to work together to pull out of our respective funks…

So I can’t take it personally when she acts like I’m not there. Because I know she is comforted by my presence, I’m there if she needs me or wants me and that makes all the difference to her. I tell myself that when the panic begins to set in. And I tell myself I will do something nice for her that doesn’t encroach on her space.

Today, I cleaned out my closet. Still in the same room. Completely silent, undistracting, still there.

The question that’s been on my mind: “If True Love is giving of yourself unconditionally, expecting nothing in return, what can you give your Lover?”

Today, the answer is… something to smile about. I will reconnect with myself, help her find a way to reconnect with herself, so that we can remain connected with one another.

Take that, co-dependency!

et cetera