In my own reality

Payback is a bitch. Friday night all I wanted to do was sleep. I was in bed before midnight, a very rare occurrence. At 3am I received a drunken phone call. I can't complain, I did my share last weekend. I would, however, like to point out that my calls were made on a Saturday night, Halloween weekend might I add, and they were all before 1am. This, on the other hand, was just some random Friday night. Okay, I just wanted to point that out - moving on... After entertaining the caller I crawled back into bed, but couldn't sleep. Then I started thinking - and no, I didn't hurt myself. I was thinking how we all have our own reality. With every human connection, there are two or more sides. Two people experience the same conversation, share the same moment in time, and yet come away from the experience with something different. Sometimes the difference is slight and sometimes there is a complete disconnect. And it was this disconnect that kept me awake Friday night. This fall I have witnessed the end of two relationships: the bar guy and my best friend. I say witnessed because my reality is so completely different from theirs that I feel like I was never in the same relationship to begin with. How can two people in the same relationship have such disconnect? With the bar guy it may have been a matter of timing. I met him the same day I ended things with Yoni. I let the bar guy in, fast and hard. At the time I thought it was some awesome connection, and now I see I was probably filling a void. I never had to deal with being alone. It was also bad timing on his part; he was still going through the emotional strain of the dissolution of what sounded to be an emotionally abusive marriage. At times I was blamed for non-existent intentions and at others I was just plain disrespected. I'm sure his reality is much different - a total disconnect. With my best friend, it was a long time coming. She’s a “good girl”, raised in a stable Christian home, attending a private college, never experimenting much with the impure. Me - not so much. I had a dead beat father, was sexual molested and assaulted, raised by a bi-polar mother and a step-father who is an enabler of her illness, attended a large university and could make a career out of experimentation. In high school it was drugs and smoking, in college it was partying and drinking, and in young adulthood it was sexual exploration. I learned early on sharing these pieces of me would result in "scolding". It became a parent-child relationship where these parts of my life were not shared. Like my parents, I'm sure she was not naive to the fact these things were going on, but I didn’t talk about it. In my reality, I was avoiding the concern that would often come across as judgment. I was stuck in a pattern I started as a child. It sounds ridiculous, but I had been in the pattern for so long I didn’t really see how incredibly dishonest I was. But there came a point in our twelve years of friendship where I did see it. I knew “catching her up” on all she had missed would result in feelings of hurt and betrayal – rightfully so. So, I continued as was. But recently, as I have learned to accept my past, I grew tired of being in a relationship where I didn’t feel comfortable being who I am – the good, the bad, and the ugly. I’m not an exception – many people travel down some dark roads before finding themselves. I didn’t want to have to constantly remind myself that "she is just concerned" when my gut was screaming judgment. So yes, the relationship was bound to fail. In her reality, I was dishonest and setting her up for the failure of our relationship. Dishonest? Yes. Set up? No. Again, disconnect. Fact is, I cared about her deeply. I would do anything for her and I know she would do the same. She was always there for me and I did my best to be there for her. She knew the big pieces of me, except for the rebellious piece. I thought somehow, we’d move past “don’t ask, don’t tell”. But I was naïve; that would never happen. That rebellious piece is just as important a part of me as all the rest. She would never be able to accept that. And so, twelve years of friendship ended. My only sadness is that in the end, she experienced the feelings of hurt and betrayal I wanted to protect her from. I can't change the past, but now we can both move on, and I am thankful for that. Naturally, my Friday night thoughts moved to Yoni - the disconnect that broke my heart. I began analyzing the relationship. It is much easier to do now that I have been removed from it for some time - hindsight is 20/20. We were together for 5 years. Although that may not seem like a long time, it was. I was all of 19 when we became an official couple. In those five years we did a lot of growing and maturing - we went from college parties, to careers, to engagement. Now that we are faced with the question, “what do we do now?”, I don’t have a clue to its answer. It is hard to see what problems were matters of maturity and which were matters of the heart. It is all intertwined and picking it apart is damn near impossible. I ask myself many questions. Did I fight hard enough for our relationship? Have I already fought too much? Do people change? Do we try it again? Do we move on? Do I want someone or do I want him? Does the fact that I love him so much mean anything? What of our realities? Can we repair the disconnect? Well, tonight is the talk I have been waiting for. Unfortunately, time has not allowed for any organization of my thoughts or feelings. I think what I have now is an even bigger mess. From our brief conversations before, he is as confused as I am. In his words, “love was never a problem”. It shall be interesting... Saturday was a bad day for Trek. He got into the neighbors garden. She has deer rope running around it. The ropes are designed for a larger animal, so Trek had no problem getting in by jumping clear over the ropes. The problem was when I called him to come home. He didn’t pay attention to the ropes as he answered my call and came bolting right through them. Well, as you have probably already guessed, the rope intended to keep deer out did a good job tearing up Trek’s front legs. After a thorough scrubbing, I tried bandaging the wounds, but he kept chewing them off. So, he’s stuck in an e-collar until the wounds heal. Poor thing. Sunday is usually my day to take Trek to the park, hiking, or swimming. Not this week. We couldn't play fetch b/c the poor thing would probably break his neck trying to retrieve the ball. We couldn't hike b/c the collar gets caught on brush. We couldn't swim b/c of the risk of infection. It's not a good idea to let the bacteria in the water come in contact with open wounds. So we settled on a long walk around the neighborhood. Poor Trek. Nothing eventful or crazy this weekend, just a sleepless night, a few drinks with people from work, an injured dog, tons of homework, and a conversation with my first love. Nothing out of the ordinary here - just another day in my reality. Smiley for the Day: