The Sting of Betrayal

It's called the sting of betrayal because it literally burns, it causes you to pull back sharply as you inhale a short, rapid, but strong breath of air - as if your brain knows you'll need a bit more oxygen to process the news.  Moments and hours go by, and at times you can almost distract yourself enough to mute the pain, but ah, there it is, still throbbing, still reminding you of that moment of contact that is seared into you.  You can treat it and be somewhat successful in soothing the pain, but once your source of comfort is removed, it returns as strong as before, reminding you that nothing has really been healed.  You lie awake in bed, desperately craving the sleep your body and mind need, but the throb keeps you awake.  Scenes, words, and images, flash behind even closed eyes as you replay the shock of it over and over again, each time foolishly hoping there is a different ending.  You marvel at your own stupidity, for buying into the game, for believing the lies, for dragging innocent bystanders into harm's way.  You recall the most inane moments, now with a glaze of distrust and paranoia.  And still it throbs.  Still it burns.  Still it stings.  Yes, this is real.  Nightmares and fears don't hurt like this.

A Paradigm Shift on Failed Relationships

Today I had a paradigm shift.  Quite often, I find myself thinking or saying that I'm a failure when it comes to romantic relationships.  Today a wise mentor of mine challenged me, asking me why I would say that.  I said, "Well, every relationship I've ever been in has ended.  Every relationship has failed."    She asked me why they failed, and I started to give reasons for break-ups.  She interrupted me and said, "So breaking up equals failure?"

 

Bam WHAT?!?!

 

I blushed and gave a sheepish grin, already realizing the folly of my logic.  I know plenty of people who are in relationships and miserable.  That is not success, at least not to me.  Realizing you are with the wrong person and acting on it IS success.  Refusing to settle for less than you deserve IS success.  Staying single rather than entering a relationship for the wrong reasons IS success.  Taking time to heal and find yourself IS success.  Taking a chance on love IS success. 

Perhaps I'm not where I imagined I'd be at this stage of my life in terms of romance.  But why on earth would I presume to just happen to find the right person for me because I've reached a certain age or life stage?  I have no idea.  But now I'm free from that false, self-deprecating label as I continue to embrace opportunities to learn and grow, landing precisely where God intended me to land at precisely the moment He intended me to land there. 

 

Just a Motorcycle Ride

He wasn't exactly a stranger to me - more than likely we'd met each other nearly 20 years ago.  We shared a mutual friend who my then fiancé (now ex-husband) had employed as a bartender at his restaurant.  That mutual friend took his own life in 2011, and in 2012 while many of us were still posting tributes and notes on his Facebook wall, I posted something that caught his attention and he friended me on Facebook.  In 2013, knowing his love for motorcycles, I invited him to my church's annual biker weekend.  He spotted me in the crowd and spoke to me, introducing me to his ex-wife and her fiancé.  Nice.  It's good to know I'm not the only one capable of having a civil relationship with an ex.  I was in a serious relationship at the time.  A couple of weeks later, he offered to take me for a ride on his bike.  I respectfully declined, saying I didn't think my boyfriend would appreciate it.  He would later tell me that my response caught his attention and impressed him because of the way I thought and responded.

 

We shared a couple of brief e-mail exchanges, but that was it.  We both existed on the periphery of one another's worlds, entering the other's thoughts from time to time.

In June of this year, he caught wind of the fact that I was no longer in my relationship.  He asked me again if I'd like to go for a ride on his bike.  He gave me his number, asked me to call, and I refused.  Initially.  The first night we talked, it flowed rather easily.  The next day he drove 90 miles from where he was to give me a ride in a brief window of opportunity I had without my children.  I was excited to ride, but that was the extent of it.  I apologized for possibly being presumptuous, but went on to tell him that I was only interested in hanging out and to not start calling me or asking to spend time together.  I was very honest about the state of my heart.  My relationship had ended very badly with an enormous amount of hurt, tension, and stress.  I was still healing and needed time before I could even consider dating, let alone being in a relationship.  I was also really enjoying my freedom, even if I chose to use it to simply be at home, with my kids, or with close friends.  He agreed, having recently been through some drama of his own. 

 

On that first ride, I fought the overwhelming urge to allow myself to just lean into him.  We spent hours together that day and in the next few days to come.  All of our time was spent in conversation.  It came so easily and we each had so much to say and so much to hear.  We'd try to watch a movie, and couldn't bear to shut up long enough to focus on a script or a plot.  I made a half-hearted attempt to keep him at arm's length - not that he was being pushy at all.  But I was wise enough to know not to completely shut him out and miss the possibility of something beautiful blossoming between us.  It already was.

 

Two months later, he feels like home to me.  He has been more engaged with my kids than any of my 3 significant post-divorce relationships ever were, even over the course of a year or more.  My diva Chihuahua that refuses to go to anyone but me?  She jumps into his lap when he comes over.  She lets him flip her on her back and rub her tummy.  It's mind-blowing.  And noteworthy.

 

Sometimes, our plans look good on paper, but don't jive with our hearts and souls.  Sometimes you have to call an audible and change the game plan you previously formulated.  You just go with it, all too aware that it may backfire, but equally aware it might just turn out to be what you were looking for - and hiding from - all along. 

 

 

My Wish For You

My wish for you is simple - that you would see yourself as I see you.  You, in all your splendor and beauty and wonder.  You have captured me since the moment I met you 15 years ago.  You never cease to amaze me with your intellect, wit, beauty, purity, kindness, compassion, creativity, and perceptiveness.  Your friendship is one of the greatest treasures God has ever given me, and I am unworthy.

 

I hate that you have been dealt this hand.  To know the depths of your struggle is to practically feel it myself.  If I could, I would erase all of your fears and replace them with nothing but hope and peace.  I would heal your body and restore your mind and your faith.  But I am a mere mortal, incapable of Godly acts.  What I can do and will do - fiercely - is love, support, and encourage you with every opportunity I'm given. 

 

When you gonna make up your mind
When you gonna love you as much as I do
When you gonna make up your mind
'Cause things are gonna change so fast

~Tori Amos, "Winter"

Enjoy the Silence

Words are powerful.  Words can comfort, reassure, encourage, advise, and soothe.  Words can hurt, destroy, insult, and confuse.  Words are permanent. Once said, they cannot be deleted or replaced with other words.  Every word has a measure of truth, no matter the circumstance, context, or subsequent words. 

 

I treasured the words you spoke to me.  I believed them.  I believed in them.  I believed what you promised, even when your actions suggested otherwise.  I wanted to believe.  They were beautiful words and beautiful promises.  They made me feel loved, valued, cherished, adored, secure, and happy.  They mirrored the love I felt for you, leading me to believe our feelings for one another were mutual.

 

Those words slowly dwindled.  They illustrated inconsistencies and created doubt.  Then they disappeared altogether as the silence boomed.  They were replaced with ugly, hateful, nasty, evil, hurtful words.  Hearing the voice that I loved utter them...I'm sure my brows were furrowed, my mouth agape as I tried to wake myself from what I hoped was a nightmare.  Hearing those lips curse me, insult me, humiliate me...even in front of my children...I might have preferred that you strike me with your fist.  The damage to my heart seemed just as painful.

 

Ah, but I have a voice too.  And now, sweet silence.  The ticking of the clock.  A beloved dog snoring.  A child's gleeful laughter.  Music.  Birds singing.  Thunder booming.  Rain pattering.  All of it is welcome.  All of it is genuine.  All of it is restorative. 

 

“That's what careless words do. They make people love you a little less.” 

~Arundhati Roy
 

"Words have no power to impress the mind
without the exquisite horror of their reality."

~Edgar Allan Poe

Lyrics Girl

I've always been a lyrics girl.  The first thing I do when I buy a CD is open the liner notes to see if the lyrics are printed, and commence to scanning them.  It's like a rich chocolate dessert, I love lyrics and they make or break the song for me.  The instrumentation, as much as I love music, is often secondary in my eyes.

 

Lately, two songs have crossed my path that really resonate with me, and I'm not sure I can put it much better than they can, so I'm simply posting an excerpt of the lyrics and calling it a day.  

 

Another empty promise, good intentions from the start,
You failed to mention, our love would be this hard.
I'm tired of talkin', don't have nothing left to say,
Maybe sometime we'll sift through the ashes one day.

 

I can't lean on you, cause I'll fall right over,
Can't count on you, it doesn't add up.
I see we're through and the truth is pretty sober,
This is going nowhere, enough is enough.

 

The hardest part, in my choice to leave,
Was not quite knowin' what I achieved.
But now I know, I can be stronger on my own,
That's what sleepless nights and only God have shown.

 

I can't lean on you, cause I'll fall right over,
Can't count on you, it doesn't add up.
I see we're through and the truth is pretty sober,
This is going nowhere, enough is enough.

 

I made up my mind I won't have a change of heart
I've removed myself from every single part of you.

 

Eli Young Band "Enough is Enough." 

 

 

 

If you don't treat me better
 Baby, I'll just run away.
Baby, I don't know what drives you
To play these silly games...

C'mon baby I'm much stronger than you know
Sometimes  I'm not afraid to let it show

 

When will you wake up?
I want you more than the stars and the sun
But I can take only so much
Cool on your island
It's so cool on your island

 

I gotta brand new dress made
Could it make you wanna try?
I guess I didn't want to notice
The stars gone from your eyes...

C'mon baby  I'm much stronger than you know
Sometimes  I'm not afraid to let it show

 

When will you wake up?
I want you more than the stars and the sun
But I can take only so much
Cool on your island
It's so cool on your island

 

If you don't treat me better
Baby, I'll just run away
If you don't treat me better
Baby, I'll just run

Tori Amos "Cool on Your Island"

 

Eyes Wide Open

Recently, I took a road trip.  By all appearances, it was just a get away, a chance to visit family without hauling the kids along.  And indeed I did get to spend quality time with several members of my family whom I love and adore and live way too far away from.  But there was more to it than that.  Looking back, I guess it was no accident that a certain date "randomly" popped into my head so many months ago.  I identified that date as a time to take inventory of my life and reevaluate certain things.  For 500 miles I thought and talked out loud and to God.  I sang songs ranging the gamut of emotion.  I took in the scenery.  I talked on the phone.  And for 500 miles on the way back home, I listened. 

 

God has never spoken to me in clear words or phrases.  But if I silence myself and open my mind and my heart, I can feel His nudgings, suggestions, and warnings.  I could hear him on my way back home. Still, I wasn't prepared to immediately act on what I heard.  But I set some things in motion almost as a test - to see what the response would be.  And the silence was deafening. 

 

Some decisions in life are extremely difficult.  Doing the right thing does not often equate with doing the easy thing.  Personally, I take a lot of time to make big decisions.  I marinate on it, roll my thoughts around in my head and ping pong them back and forth, making sure that another angle doesn't appear that I haven't previously considered.  But all the evidence I observed in the days and weeks that followed only amplified what I had heard on that road trip when I decided to just....listen.

 

Personal decision making can be clouded by many things.  I have experienced this time and again in my life.  Maybe it has to do with turning 40 this year.  Maybe I'm seeing life through the lens of age and choosing to trim the proverbial fat from my life.  Maybe it's that my faith has strengthened and grown in my spiritual walk.  Maybe it's the overwhelming evidence that can no longer be ignored.  Whatever it is, I'm blessed in that my difficult decision was made crystal clear to me through all these avenues.  Perhaps that's made it easier to follow through and make peace with it.  Perhaps it's the repeated and frequent reminders and evidence that my choice was the best choice.

 

I find myself starting a new chapter, turning the page.  It's scary in so many ways, but exhilarating in other ways.  It doesn't take much effort to see how very many quality people love me and care about me and will support me no matter what.  And most of all, I can feel God's love wrapped around me, comforting me, supporting me, challenging me, and spurring me on to better, brighter days ahead.  My eyes are wide open. My heart is certain.  My head is clear.