The Thinking Other Woman

What you should know BEFORE your affair.
 

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Let's Just Kiss, and Say Goodbye.

Posted by The Thinking Other Woman on April 9, 2022 at 10:05 PM

In about seven weeks, it will be seven years since I was dumped from this affair, and four years and seven months since I last spoke to the guy.


I have accepted that this person will never speak to me again. That I will never hear from, never see, this person, ever, ever again. Ever, ever, never.


There is no "someday" with a person who will never come back. There's tons of transits for that coming up soon, and we will never pick those. He will never pick those. I would have treated him so much better. But, it doesn't matter.


So, okay. I've stopped arguing.


Time to just pack it in and forget this ever happened.


Only, once you've done something like this, you don't ever really forget, because you are changed forever by what you've learned.


I learned that just because a person is successful in the world in all the ways I wasn't, doesn't mean they don't have some fatal flaw that will ruin every relationship they're in. I learned that relationships are not transactional--I can't do this to make you feel better so you will do that to make me feel better.


I learned that all we're really born here to do is get wounded emotionally in our families of origin and then do the hard work of growing ourselves up ... all by ourselves. No one else can do that for us.


I have learned that, when a person expresses NO interest in so doing ("I had to put that book down. It was too depressing.") don't count on ever seeing them again, especially when they would have had to do some healing of childhood emotional wounding in order to become capable of that. AND a person who expresses NO interest in so doing ... would have, sorry, presented significant problems as a partner.


I have learned that this world is a world of pain and tears, where happy endings elude most. And I am part of the "most." I am NOT part of the "fortunate few."


I have learned that the flush of romantic love you feel in the beginning is mostly about how you expect that another person will become your parent, and raise you in the ways you didn't get raised in childhood, and that real love is most emphatically NOT that.


I have learned that, even when you figure out what real love is, it doesn't matter whether you've become capable of it or not, if the person's not there.


And this person's checked out. Permanently.


Good thing, because now he can hide in the distance of a marriage that will remain forever distant, because he's too scared to actually ever live the closeness with other people he always said he wanted. When you tell other people who you really are, and stand by it, that too is a way of being close, because then others know who you really are.


Okay, that's a little snarky. I HOPE the reason I'm never going to see him again is that they went back to marriage counseling, found better therapists, delved into old childhood wounding, found each other again, fell back in love, and will end their lives enjoying their children, grandchildren, friends, and family, and be proud of what they've made and the bonds they've had with all these people for four decades and counting.


So, so many people can't say anything like this about their lives. So, so many people aren't able to create this long-term bonding among so many great and wonderful people. I hope it works out for them. I really do. The best thing that can ever happen to a forty-year marriage is for the wounds to be healed and the marriage to become real.


They've still got a few transits for it coming up. It can happen. 


I mean, lookit. At going-on 64 and 67, these folks are running out of time. You ain't going to achieve this when you're half-witted and peeing in your Depends in your wheelchair in the nursing home. Looking at the available evidence (which I admit is sketchy at best), I tend to doubt it, but, who knows?


One day I will realize the person's made his last visit here. That will be the end, the very, very last of the very, very last, and I'll just imagine this breakthrough happened and just tell myself this good story about it. It's a happy thing, to imagine them happy in their wonderful family to the very end of their days.


Either way, one wonders:

         Why does this guy keep visiting here?

                                         

What's the point? He's never, ever, ever going to speak. Never, ever, ever coming back. Never, ever, never. For forty years, no matter how unhappy he is, he keeps choosing that person ... and choosing that person ... and choosing that person ... and choosing that person.


Why come back here when you keep on choosing that person? Isn't it time to just take Ram Dass's advice and "Be Here Now?" (Or, in his case, Be There Now?)


Jesus, dude. You made your choice seven years ago, and you will never choose differently. So choose it. Be there. You're never going to be anywhere else, ever. Why show up here?


What does he get out of peeking in here and reading what I'm writing? I will wonder to the end of my days ... but I Will Never Find Out.


The last time I ever saw him, we were sitting in a meeting. He had ended it with me four months before, and the entire time we considered ourselves together, I never ever caught him looking at me or watching me at all. (I thought he was the most handsome, sexiest thing I had ever seen; I couldn't stop sneaking looks at him.) But this night, he was watching me and letting me see that.


The next week, he wasn't there, and I never saw him again. I knew what that meant. He'd moved home, and I was not his choice.


Two-and-a-half years later, when I spoke to him one more time, I asked him about that night. Why was he watching me closely enough that I could see him?


He said he was worried whether I was going to be okay or not.


If you've been here all this time because you're worried whether I'm going to be okay or not, you can stop now. I'm going to be fine.


I'm sad, because every child is sad to discover that there is no Santa Claus and that this world we live in is not Disneyland. That love is not the place where someone becomes your parent and shores up all your weaknesses and makes your life a fairytale. That, no, you cannot just make anything you want materialize through the "law of attraction" by simply thinking and feeling the right way. That the planet's going to die either through global warming or endless war and income inequality, and I am going to die in it alone. That all the best times of my life are gone, and most of them left a lot to be desired even while they were happening.


There's nothing much left to do now but work and pay bills til I'm too old and sick to work anymore, and then die of whatever I'm going to die from. Indoors, with enough food and water, I hope.


In this country, fuck knows.


I am better off not to be that silly girl anymore, the one who expected that something wonderful would happen in life to make up for the bad childhood. I am not happier, but I am better off. All we're supposed to do here is handle, and adapt to, unhappy reality. We are not capable of forcing reality to fit childish daydreams. 


It sure is a comedown for a girl who took fifty-three years to finally grow up, who always believed she was going to be a bestselling author and rescue someone who looked perfect into a fairy-tale marriage.


Life is still sad, and it was always sad. The two sickest families in our city in the mid-sixties had their  eldest son and daughter meet in high school and get married way too young, and I was their oldest kid. How could it turn out anything but sad?


The difference is, I can handle it now, because I don't expect anything much from life. I grew into my career, finances are fine (for now, at least) and I am okay. I am single and intend to remain single. I can't even imagine who would fit me as a partner now, nor can I imagine how I would even meet such a person. That time in my life is over, anyway. I'm just a tired, creaky, fat old lady. I really don't have the energy anymore. I don't desire or need other people in my life anymore. I'm not interested in fiction writing anymore and I'm scared of covid 19, so I don't go out much.


I've graduated to hermitude.


You don't need to worry about how I'm doing. I really can handle anything. I'm just going to finish my book of essays--I know not to expect anything now!--and just keep on going to work. Work is okay. I have a nice little nest I've feathered to the best of my ability. I'm going to be okay. And that is all that I can realistically expect ... to be "okay." Other people on other paths can expect more, but that just wasn't my path. Hard to discover that, but I accept it now. It's made my life so much easier and less disappointing.


The person you need to worry about is you. Are YOU going to be okay? I've accepted that we'll never see each other again and this is goodbye. Happy fortieth in a few months. Sweetie, you deserve the best and I will always wish you well. You really are a good, good person. There is nothing wrong with you. There never was.


This ends our association in this lifetime. I wish it weren't this way, but clearly, it is. Take care. And, stop coming around here! You've made your choice, so just be where you are, with the people you chose. Begone! "Be Here Now."


Hugs! Bye. I love you.



Categories: Post-Mortem, Now That It's All Over, Life Lessons, Love.