Hell hath no fury...
I am 53 and for the last eight years I have been in varying degrees of a relationship with a man 17 years younger than me. At first, he was a fire that inflamed my body, it was a chemical reaction I had to him that still leaves me a bit baffled. It was as if I had no option, he was my kin, my person.
For a few years, he was my exciting lover. Then we moved in together and became family. Sex started to feel routine and less exciting, but the bond grew.
A lot of the time, I did tire of his lack of experience and wisdom, it was a lot of effort on my part. But we went forward as a conventional relationship for the next 5 years. Eventually, we slept in separate bedrooms which was a blessing and stretched our time together out. But then, after my mother passed away and age being that creeping thing that it is, life began to take it's toll on me.
When my niece needed a place to live, it was almost a relief. We'd been talking about moving apart from each other. We were both stuck. And I felt he was only clinging to our relationship for security but that he wasn't really happy. It's possible I projected that. However, if I trust my intuition, I am correct.
So just over a year ago, he moved out and my niece moved in. It was a relief for me to have space. Apparently, it wasn't a relief for him at first and he mourned our relationship, he left me.
I did not leave him.
For me, we were still just sleeping in separate bedrooms, they were just also in separate places.
We continued to spend lot's of time together going for regular walks, kayaking, the occasional movie, dinners.
Throughout all of this, I am adjusting to my niece living with me, mourning my mother, and trying to lift the spirits of her grieving husband, and trying to find success/fulfillment at my job. As all this hard, heavy stuff is happening, I'm actually climbing the ladder at work until I'm the head of product - along side a VP of Tech that is a... over-confident leader and who leads by injecting fear and then patting your back to tell you it's okay, he's got you.
My stress levels at work with his presence have sky rocketed. The only saving grace is that our new CEO (because we're in the middle of merging 3 companies) is a genuine, objective, smart, wise, person. But I'm hanging be a god damn thread.
In February - just over a month ago - I went to my mom's husbands house to drive him to an appointment. I had to let myself in when he didn't answer, at which point, you guessed it, I found him deceased on the couch. There was a whole horrible 911 call where I was instructed to give him mouth to mouth and only I could see he had been dead way to long for that (I still want to vomit when I recall it. I should really go to therapy about this).
In between my mom passing and then her husband, a good friend of mine also died. People seemed to just be dropping.
My relationship with my former lover and housemate and current slightly more than friends companion became one of the only spots of light I had for just me. I started to move closer to him in my heart again. We'd had enough distance that I could see him again. I had enough space to ugly grieve and not be self conscious, that when we did spend time together, I was more present. However, it was still peppered with moments of his lack of maturity where I would think to myself "ugh, this is not going to work."
He started dating someone recently. I knew I couldn't be that kind of partner for him, so in a world where I truly loved him, I accepted this, was kind of happy that he could have a fling. It was okay because he was still my best friend and me his. We held hands on walks, he would put his arm around me and bring me in. We both went travelling last fall and met up in Greece, we made love one of those nights.
On St. Patricks day, I had the unfortunate opportunity to watch him walk by while he was on date with this new person. This person that he had told me repeatedly "didn't matter" and that if she ever asked him to not be friends with me, he would say "sorry, that's not going to happen" and would end the situation-ship if she couldn't accept it. But when I saw him look at her, my stomach violently knew that I had lost him as the friends I understood we were: casual, intimate partners in life.
So, even though just weeks before that, I could and probably did have thoughts of "ugh, I love this man but this is unfulfilling," I was suddenly wrecked with sadness that he was gone. BUT! there was hope, I would talk to him about this and we would make it okay. He would tell me that he loved me, that this was nothing in the grand scheme of things - maybe even that he would stop seeing her if it caused me too much grief. He did not say these things though. Instead, he said, and I am paraphrasing, "she doesn't mean anything to him, but that also, he wasn't attracted to me either... not in the same way anymore. But he still wanted to be friends. He agreed the handholding was misleading and he apologized for that."
My god... my god! When I tell you that my ego turned red hot, I mean I was (am) the earth's magma ready to reign fire upon the earth.
Five days since this revealing conversation and I am mad as hell. A week before this revealing conversation (which, I will add, included phrases like "I'm sorry, but your age is not working in your favour"), we were talking about going to Hawaii together. I felt like an absolute IDIOT. And, an ugly one at that. What was I thinking!! Jesus Christ! Oh my god!
Last night, in the privacy of my home, I let it all out. We'd been talking over text, sorting out what the boundaries of our friendship could be. Neither of us want to be out of each other's lives, how might we salvage this? He said I was as important to him as his life long male friends and that that's how he saw now me, a life long pal. BUT... that's not what we've been being.
Last night, I smashed the sculpture I had made for him when we were first together. I fucking threw that thing (and a number of other things). This is a level of outrage that I never engage in. I am calm. I have seen so much in my life now and I have chosen mature wisdom over reaction for so long now. When people throw their bad behaviour at me, I catch it and then release it. I don't judge them, I have empathy for their struggle. I aspire to be the monk at the top of the hill.
But the bottom fell out last night. Now, after a small amount of sleep and snippets of meditation attempts to focus my life's intentions, I think I realize that it's the deep gaslighting that is lighting the fire the most. And by deep gas lighting, I think I mean that he's gaslighting himself first and then me by proxy.
If I trust my intuition, he loves me much more than he knows or is letting himself know. This has been made easier by my always being close at hand to spend time with, the lack of my presence has never challenged him.
Don't let that statement fool you. I don't think he's coming back to beg forgiveness. And if he did, I'm not sure it would feel right for me to lead him on - because I'm not even sure how attracted I am to him. Intelligence wise, he's not attractive to me as a partner. Physically, I am not attractive to him. However, there's still the elephant in the room that I believe - in my gut of guts - is real, we both deeply love each other just a bit more than pals. And this is an un-had conversation that hangs in my ether, and the energy of it is the lava at my core.
So I smashed the sculpture and put in the box of his things. He broke my heart, I broke his sculpture. I want to give the pieces of it to him, but I know it's juvenile and will just make me look pathetic, but I still want him to see it. I want him to throw it away. I imagine it goes down like this:
He opens the box and his dismay is evident. He almost feels sorry for me but is also embarrassed for me.
"Why did you do this?" he asks
"You broke my heart, I guess I wanted you to see that in physical reality" I reply with a casual shrug. "Also, it might have felt fitting if you were the one to throw it out" I smile.
"I still want us to be friends (friends defined as: like he is with his male friends, 'he doesn't hold hands with them, so this is a new boundary for us)" he says, despite my hurtful childishness
"Mmhmm" I say, lips pursed
"I'll give you some space" he says, "when might I see you again?"
"Well, how often would you say you hang out with your friend "x" or "y" 1 on 1," I ask. I know this answer and it's once every few months or so.
"I don't know, once a month or so?" he says.
"Let's go with that then shall we?"
I hold back from adding a patronizing "Champ" to the end of that and patting his shoulder in farewell. On this one, I try to add a bit more composure.
He nods and, unceremoniously, exits stage left. That's it. He's disappointed in me and I'm slightly humiliated.
Just like when I first met him and thought it was insane to be in a relationship but yet I couldn't fight it, my body was a magnet. There is something very similar in this situation. I'll add that it feels unfair to both of us to be so attracted to each other's spirits when all other pieces wont quite align. In this, he's right to call it off. His timing and lack of personal insights, unfortunately for us, couldn't have been worse.
My loved ones are now dying or dead, my sister is months away from dying as a result of addiction and lifestyle (and I'll have to console her daughter whom I care for). I have a ass-hat that I work with that I NEVER stand up to. And I've been the most understanding person to everyone ever "so patient, so kind".
Something has go to give, and when it does I hope that I've properly tuned into the right frequencies and that they have my back. I hope that my heart is good and true, that I have strength, and should my sarcasm arise - and it will - it is clever. It shouldn't cut, it should leaven.
Honestly, I don't know who, if anyone, will see my wrath. But it's there, it's palpable. They may not see it, but it will be hard not to feel it.
I just don't know if it's actually healthy anymore for me to wrap up my rage in a pretty, polite box anymore.
Case in point: The brother of the man that sexually abused me as a child, randomly called me the other day to give condolences for aforementioned dead man on couch and inquire about funeral arrangements. I have never spoken to his man and I have zero contact with that family (although my younger sister is his niece, so there's always proximity). Again, the magma in me rose to the surface at the sound of his voice, which is so similar to his brothers. I heard the badge of honour say "be polite, no sense in being rude"
but what did rude mean in this situation. I did not want this man to speak to me, the trigger is so visceral. I just wanted to tell him I did not wish to speak to him and that he could call his neice for details.
In this moment, I made the choice to not be polite anymore. I said what my heart wanted to say. I stood up for myself and spoke my truth. He had the weird audacity to respond with "so you're saying you never want me to call you...?" like it was a threat that I would back down from. I replied, "that's right" and hung up.
Can you see how engrained being polite is in me? Forgiving transgressions against me over and over again. How do I stop this while maintaining my highest self?
How do I honour my rage?
My friend and I could easily slide into friends. I don't know why I'm rebuking this so much. Other than, I feel betrayed.
