|Posted by The Thinking Other Woman on May 12, 2022 at 3:20 AM|
A question from two days on: Why did I even write this?? (Addendum written May 14th.)
Why did I finally decide to give up on you and chase you out of here?
Because I know that we're never going to speak or see each other again, and these brief sightings of you on here are getting to be just too sad. It's good to know you are here, you read, and you care. That we still love and care about one another, even if we will never see each other again.
Especially after seven years. Seven years of sharing that we care for each other is a long time. Especially under these circumstances. It really, really, really means a lot to me that you have still been here all this time. It really, really does. I love you.
But, we are getting old. I know that one day I will log on and you will be gone. And I'll log on again and again and again, and I just won't see you here anymore. Months will go by during which I hope to see you again, but I won't. And that will be horrible. I have those moments now, and they're bad enough. Oh, he hasn't been here in a few days. Maybe he's just not going to come back this time.
I guess I'd rather just cut ties now than have that day come when I'm forlornly not seeing you on here anymore, looking for some sign you're still out there somewhere and care to let me know you're still here, but you're finally gone for good.
That day will be awful, and I just don't want it. It's going to drag out for months while I hope to see you again, and that will be horrible.
I will be forced to acknowledge that you finally just disappeared, and I will have no idea what happened. Did you reconcile? Did you forget me? Did you die? Are you in a hospital with some cancer, or in a nursing home with Alzheimers?? Will I ever know?
No. And I just don't want to be there. This is okay, and it's meant the world to me that you have been here with me so long. But that will be horrible. And it's going to be just too sad. That's why.
One day, it will happen. Why not just get used to it and over it now? From the moment we said goodbye, it was always going to be my job to change myself from a person who couldn't handle never seeing you again, into a person who can. Putting it off seven more years won't change that or make it any easier. So, why not just go on and do it? It will happen anyway whether I want it to or not.
One day we're all going to be gone forever. Why not just get it over with? It just doesn't make much sense to hang onto each other anyway. You made your choice; you're staying home.
And, anyway, the person you're really looking for here isn't me. The person you're looking for isn't Rory. It isn't your son; it isn't your daughter. It isn't your brother, your grandchildren, or Rory's brother or sister, or anyone else you imagine is looking at you funny or with disapproval, or whatever. The person you are really looking for is none of these people you live in fear of disappointing. Of not being good enough to be loved.
The person you are looking for is YOU.
And the person I am looking for is ME.
Stop looking here, and go find YOURSELF. That is the one and only person you truly need. Your real self. And my real self is the one and only person I truly need. We need to find those people in this life, before we're too old and we lose our faculties and it's too late.
I will always love you. I wish the best for you, that you will do the work to heal and find peace in your life. I'm sorry if the words I wrote on the 12th sound angry. I'm not. I just don't want the months of looking for you on here when you finally disappear for good to be so sad for me.
Please take care. Do your emotional healing ACoA recovery work. For fuck's sake, PLEASE pick up those "depressing" books. Get well from your sad childhood. You don't deserve to live your whole life feeling like a worm. You are not a worm.
You are not what your sick parents treated you as, just as I am not what my sick parents treated me as. You are a good and wonderful person ... whom things just aren't going to work out for me with, ever in this life.
I can put it off seven years, but I have to acknowledge it some time.
Thank you for your friendship and your support. You're very special. Don't forget that. Thank you for being here with me.
Written May 12:
The past month or so has been amusing, at best. A certain person, having changed VPN locations/numbers, had fallen back into his old view pattern of checking in here every few days, reading my blogs.
Then, I posted "Let's Just Kiss And Say Goodbye." This number read that, and I don't see that number anymore. Then, the next night, someone comes in on a cell phone under a new number, and stays up all night poring all through here reading a pile of old blogs and messages, as I posted on the new astrology page.
I see him come back six days later and read the three latest, and now ... he hasn't come back in over two weeks. Still won't talk.
Hey, look, whatever.
It looks like you're never going to come back; so, I accept this now. You're never going to come back.
It's time to just give up on this person and totally write this person off. I've transmitted what I was supposed to, and that was the only reason for all this. He finally came in and got all his messages, and now the job is done.
This person has no intention of ever making anything real out of this, whatever he wishes or doesn't wish he could have/should have done. There will never be anything more out of this relationship in this earthly plane, so I'm packing it in and moving on.
You have elected to stay home; I have accepted that decision. Goodbye. I wish you the best. I still know, even if you don't, that you are a good, good person. You don't deserve to feel as badly about yourself as you do. You don't deserve to feel badly about yourself at all. There is nothing wrong with you; there never was. You really do deserve all the love a good person has to give you; you just don't want it. Or, you don't want to work for it. So, okay. All I can do is accept that.
(It doesn't really matter, though. I can talk myself blue in the face and it will never matter, at all.)
Enjoy your wonderful family; you have great kids and grandchildren, and you're very fortunate in that.
I'm very sad about this. I always wished things would be different. But, it's been seven years, and if things aren't different in seven years, they're sure not going to be different in eight or nine or ten. I can't spend the rest of my life looking back at you, because you're never going to come forward.
Nothing is ever going to manifest here between us. Not my decision; but I accept it fully and am writing you off forever. When love isn't wanted, and is just going to lie on the table and never get used, best to just pick it up and go.
And for fuck's sake, stop coming around here. What's the point?? You're never coming back, so just stay gone.
If you're going to be in your family, then be in your family fully. Really choose to be there, and be there.
Write this off. Forget about it. Leave. Forget you ever knew me. What's the point of mooning around here over a love you left on the table and won't ever come back and get?
I am done waiting for you. It's been seven years. It's time to just wipe you and all thoughts of you from my life. It's never going to happen. Nothing productive is left any more.
I've posted you everything I know and all I can. There's just no more here.
I've learned all I could from this, and now there's just nothing more to be gained from dwelling on the past seven years in any way.
We no longer have any obligation whatsoever to each other. I am free of you; you are free of me.
We will never speak or see each other again. I accept that now, and I'm out. A person who never comes back, is a person who never comes back. No relationship is no relationship. It's been seven years. You hang around and hang around, and still can't bring yourself to speak.
So, okay. Hugs to you. I love you, but it's time to detach with love. Goodbye.
********* end messages to this person.**********
Other things I'm thinking I need to wipe clean from my life: Writing. It, too, is a total dead end. Nothing ever manifested from it; I don't believe that anything ever will. I wrote the essay book and now I'm done.
If this world needed anything I ever wrote, seems like over the past 54 years, something would have clicked, something would have stuck, something would have fit, something would have worked.
Both of these things have just been unhealthy obsessions that do more to make me unhappy than they ever have anything else. I struggle, and nothing happens. I struggle, and nothing clicks. I struggle, and nothing works. I struggle, and nothing ever comes back.
I am sick of unproductive energy in my life where I put out and put out and try and try and nothing ever comes back.
Maybe it's time to wipe the slate clean and start all, all over again with nothing, at zero.
What would I do if I wasn't obsessively writing all the time? How would I spend my time? What else would I have liked? Who else would I be?
Might as well find out, because writing is just a dead end for me and has been for thirty years. Just like this guy who lurks and won't talk.
It's freeing to just cast everything away and give up on it. I no longer have to struggle and struggle and struggle and struggle to do things I CANNOT DO. I no longer have to struggle and struggle and struggle and struggle to be something I will never be.
Oh, and thin. I can give up on thin, too. I will never be that, either.
I suppose I'll always feel a compulsion to write something down from time to time, but I don't expect anything from it anymore. There's no point in working so hard at it anymore. All this world can tell me is that I am not good enough.
Kind of like this guy, all this world can tell me is that it is never going to happen.
There's no point in asking for it to ever be anything. I'm going to be an old woman soon. It hasn't worked. It never will.
I think one big reason I got all buried in writing in the first place was because I was afraid of people, and if I buried myself in writing and Told Myself I Was Doing Something Important, I could just do that and not have to deal with struggling to establish friendships, and feeling shut out and inadequate. I have never been able to find friends and fit in and mesh well together with other people.
If I made up an identity for myself as This Big Writer, and had my nose buried in that all the time, now I didn't have to care anymore. I could just ignore other people the same way they always ignored me.
And it made for a great bond with my husband, because we were both so focused on Achievement In Writing. We both understood and supported that about each other. We were just never going to get there!! At least I got to have that relationship in my life. It was wonderful while it lasted; it was just based on dreams that could never come true.
I guess the lesson here is not to HAVE dreams that can never come true. My husband always used to say that you have to have dreams; and I always disagreed.
Dreams just bring pain. They never work out, and we're always upset.
I think the only dream it is ever okay to have is to be perfectly, perfectly, perfectly and absolutely OK with the world happening as it is. You can't change it; and only by accepting everything around you that you can't control can you achieve any measure of peace.
And I can't control anything. Anything, anything, anything at all; anything, anything at all.
I think I might take some of my newfound time and treat myself out to an art museum or something. I have never been to one, and it's time to do something new. I always wanted to go to the ballet; I just don't know how to drive or park downtown. And there's always covid 19 to worry about. After just being so ill, fuck knows I don't need to come down with that next.
I wonder what else I could do?
The trouble is, there is nothing else I ever wanted to do. I never, ever wanted anything else but these two guys, and to be a writer. Life, it appears, is in the business of making absolutely sure that, if I want something, it becomes a literal and absolute impossibility the living instant I realize I want it.
When it's abundantly clear that what you want does not and will never want you, but you don't have anything else to do or to want ... WTF, DO you actually DO?
Oh, well. The good thing is, once you realize that working for a thing is a complete and total waste of time, a lot more time opens up, and there's a lot less pressure. Nothing is more of a pressure cooker than trying harder and harder and harder and harder to do a thing you cannot really do.
I'm not sure there will be any more entries on this blog. If I think of anything worthwhile to say, I will write something, and if not, I won't.
I'm afraid I will never find anything that feels fulfilling to me and brings anything back to me in the measure that I put out. I have always reached out into this world in ways that do not inspire this world to reach back. I'm getting older, and you can't really say I've had a full and successful life.
It kind of looks as if this life will always be just an empty shell. I hope not. But, I've discovered I really can't expect much. I don't even want much, anymore. I couldn't have the things I wanted, and nothing else ever really much appealed.
My only advice to those trodding the third-party relationship path after me is this: If you're miserable and upset, stay with that and learn the lessons you have to learn. You will be better off afterwards.
But do not expect the relationship to ever work out. The lessons you need to learn happen BECAUSE the relationship did not work out and you were left in all this pain. Just go ahead and learn them, and when you've learned them, you will be ready to discard a painful and disappointing waste of what could have been a good relationship and just forget about it.
It's all you can really do. You can't make anyone want to stay. You can't make anyone want to do their work. You can't make anyone care. When they don't, all you can do is heal and forget.
Categories: Post-Mortem, Now That It's All Over