looking back to move forward

February 25, 2010

hateI am ready for this pain to leave. I want to stop hating. I want to return to writing here about beauty.

But the hurt continues. I sit and look out the window at the glorious pink of the blooming cherry trees, and tears stream down my face–I am sad and angry and confused. And I worry a little that this deep emotion will never let up.

My dear friend, Carmi, checks in on me nearly every day, saying, “Good morning. How are you today, my love?” This morning I replied, “I hate my ex. I don’t enjoy being a hater. It hurts. I can’t believe how much I still hurt.”

And Carmi says, “You still love him, that’s why it hurts. You can’t say you hate something you don’t love in some way.”


Earlier I made a snarly post on Facebook, my attitude getting the better of me. “I am stunned by how much I still hurt, and am thinking some phenobarbital would be perfect right about now.”

In their comments my friends say all the right things, and I love them for it, but it fails to assuage the pain in my heart, even their encouragement to pursue the Zipless Fuck.

I’ve had that actually (well, not exactly but nearly, and a little inadvertently, but nevertheless). It was great in the moment, but later he gave me the “I want to be your friend speech” which really is a candy-coated rejection.

And rejection is the last thing I need these days, seeings as I am still reeling from this most recent–ultimate–rejection. So I am better off I think, staying away from anything that might include any semblance of a brush-off. So, no Zipless Fucks. No dating, either.

But back to the hate. And the pain.

I am reading a book my friend, Elke, wrote a long time ago. It includes a chapter about healing, and it suggests that I ask my heart, mind, soul, and body what they have to say about this situation. And then, ask them what they need in this moment.

So I ask.

My heart says that she feels cheated and short-changed. And I understand that my heart means cheated out of an opportunity, short-changed of something that was beautiful.

Then my heart pipes up that she wants things to go back to the way they were, when they were good.

I tell my heart gently that that is not possible. We cannot go back. Then she says, “I want him to be happy.”

I sit quietly (with tears still rolling down) and I let this soak in. It is true, I want him to be happy and my sense (my belief) that unraveling our marriage was no particular key to his happiness, well, I wallow in that. (It’s pathetic, I know.) But mostly it makes me sad.

My friends give me (unsolicited) reports of bumping into him at parties and events around our city, and they say, “He looks like hell.” At first–from my hurt and angry place–I gloat at this news. But I realize now that those reports break my heart.

I cannot change the past. I cannot change someone else. We all know that. But these new understandings of my feelings about what was and what no longer is … well, the understanding helps me diffuse or re-purpose the pain. Right now, that’s golden.

Photo: I Hate How Much I Love You by Nawal Al Mashouq and used with Creative Commons License

{ 1 comment… read it below or add one }

Michael February 25, 2010 at 4:09 pm

I have never heard the phrase “Zipless Fuck”, so thanks for showing us that!

I hope you discover the clarity to understand all that is going on.
And if you do, send some of it my way! :-)

Take care and thanks for sharing,
-Michael, your fellow co-hort in the Family cult of the background extras.

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