Love & Loyalty

This is my second post today. One I felt compelled to write. My heart is broken, I need to vent, and this is the forum that I’ve chose as my voice. Because it is, this is where it’s going to happen.

          We women have but one rule with each other we live by. It makes us complacent, and for the most part able to get along even under the worst of hormonal circumstances. It’s one that all of us are stringent about, and most of us adhere to; It’s ‘what is yours, stays yours’. Most who break it find themselves friendless. Those who are fortunate to keep a few will never truly be trusted or respected again by their peers, no matter what they will be told. There is no rail you can ride on this. It’s either one side or the other. It’s called loyalty, and even the most ball-busting, tit-baring, foul-mouthed, even threesome-participating women live by it: If she’s close to you, is in love with him and has a relationship with him now, or ever had a serious, heart-felt one with him before…he is off limits. Not that playing with someone else’s toys never happens; it shouldn’t, but does. But never…ABSOLUTLEY NEVER…cross the fence with a friend or family member you’re close to. Know why that rule is in place? BECAUSE IT FUCKING HURTS AND NO ONE WANTS TO HAVE TO GO THROUGH THAT KIND OF PAIN!

          I’m not a finisher. Or to be more grammatically correct, I’m not one who completes things: Marriages, education, manuscripts, etc…the list is endless. I’m gung-ho at the gate, but bore quickly and lose interest and/or confidence. I tend to give up more than challenge myself. A bad trait, not one I’m terribly proud of, but accurate nonetheless. To my credit I have bragging rights to but one thing: Loving him. This one thing I did—do—and have never faltered in. This one thing I’ve feared over the years will end up being my undoing.

          It’s hard to move forward when your feet are bound in stone. He is the rock, and like Excalibur nothing and no one has had the power so far to loosen this grip completely and free me. Not even marriage to another. Physically we are removed, but emotionally I’m still held captive to some extent. I think there are probably a lot more people who can relate to this than would be willing to admit. How many times have you sat and mused over the prospect of how wonderful it would be if only you could take the best parts of each person you’ve ever been with and roll it into one perfect individual? Well, I thought I had that once. He wasn’t just really easy on the eyes, he was good at almost everything: Intelligent and well-read, a great cook, a better housekeeper than me, could help color my hair then turn around and fix the car, appliances, or build a damn deck. At the end of the night he would be the most romantic, passionate man you’d ever met. His only real flaw..and it was a biggee: A nasty, petty temper that you could closely associate with Jekyl and Hyde. We butted heads like two, billy goats; neither ever wanting to be outdone by the other. Much to my surprise I’ve found at times I’ve missed that too. He was an intellectual challenge and my equal, which I’ve rarely encountered intimately. Is it any wonder I’ve found him and these memories we share hard to let go?

          I married a man I loved after him. I love this man still. He’s a good man who loves me too. A good man whom I sometimes believe deserves better. At the least he deserves a wife who can give him her complete attention and devotion. Something I, as of yet, have been unable to provide him with. Why? Stone shoes. After close to five years of marriage I still can’t refer to things as ours; rather it’s his or mine. I still can’t make definite, long-term plans around or with him. I still feel as if this is somehow temporary, like renting a house or having a roommate. I still haven’t been able to allow myself to love him like that. I guess what I’m trying to say is, even after getting this far in the game I’m still confused. And after taking careful inventory of myself have realized to what degree. Worst yet, to add to the weight of this confusion, I’ve lately begun to wonder if I’m really still carrying an emotional attachment to this old flame after all these years, or is it just easier to keep my marriage at arms length to prevent myself from being hurt again by convincing myself I can’t completely get over the other? Hmmm?…

          God works in mysterious ways and uses the most unlikely of sources to get the job done. I found that out this afternoon. I can’t say I wasn’t somewhat prepared for it: My gut instinct has been nagging me that something smells foul—though she’s repeatedly denied any involvement and continued to listen to me confide in her my deepest feeling. That, and I had a dream three nights ago where she finally came out and admitted to me that she’s been involved with him for weeks. This dream I awoke from in the morning covered in sweat and near tears. I almost called her, decided against it, and shared it with my bestfriend, Pandora Patty, instead. I knew. My mother was a sensitive, we get it from her side, and some of us occasionally dream and just ‘know things’. I knew.

          I got the call today. My codependent, nurturing side kicked in before I could stop it, and I actually found myself trying to comfort her as she apologized through tears for wanting him and not meaning to hurt me. The side of me that loved her from the moment she was born, spent my life laughing and crying with her; would and has defended her under any circumstances, and would die for her. The side that shares blood. I found I choked up and had little to say beyond, “You probably did me a favor. I’d never want him back now.”

          Stone shoes. I always wondered what it would take to free me. Now I know. Only the power of blood.

          I sit here in tears wrestling with my emotions. Not for the loss of him, but her. There is only one rule we women live by. She broke it. I only hope her future happiness will be as great as the pain and betrayal I now feel. If not, she paid a hefty price for nothing: My love and loyalty to her was priceless.

          Pandora Patty says, “Good riddance! If that’s his true character, and he has no more respect for your memory than that, well…good riddance! She also told me to stop feeling sorry for the wrong, damn party, and said I don’t have to, and shouldn’t give my blessing in this. They hurt me. Wise words. Pandora Patty…the voice of reason in my head. Gotta love her!

          Yes, God does work in mysterious ways. For the first time in a long while I feel truly blessed with what I have, and also that I dodged a fatal bullet. I feel like maybe my life can finally move forward now.

          My advice…because I do love you: Forget your pride. Go back to what you know to be faithful, loving, easy to get along with, and what works. Go back to the man who’s already proven himself to be worthy of you. Forget the months it’s taken him to find himself and just be damn glad that he finally did. Loving this one is like riding an untamed pony. It may take you places that you’re not strong enough or don’t want to go.

AS FOR YOU! Man-up you coward! Shame on you for letting her do the dirty work of telling me, and taking advantage of someone in a vulnerable position. Geeze-louise…where did your tact and sensitivity go…for crissakes?!!

Advertisements

3 Comments on “Love & Loyalty”

  1. I’m not a finisher either, something that recently came up with my therapist!

    • I keep thinking about the ‘not a finisher’ comment and wish to expand. I hate anything finishing! I am always the last girl in the pub at night begging the DJ for just one more song. I was once prised off a support beam in a bar by a bouncer because I couldn’t bear to leave. At parties, i used to always find someone who was going on to another party, then another, so the night never ended; I regularly found myself in a random village the next day and would have to find a road sign to see where i was and call a taxi.
      I’m a great starter, no project too big, let me take on the world, then i’m quickly bored. Especially with painting. My partner is sick of the muse visiting me when he is out, only to find I have painted half a random wall in the house navy blue or morrocan red, then got bored and stopped.
      I promise the earth then fail to deliver.
      I must start finishing, if that makes sense, apparently I will find some ‘satisfaction’ in my life when I do, from the smallest thing, to the biggest things…..

      • That just cracks me up, cause like you the party is the only thing I stick around and finish. Ha..ha.. I’ve always been the last one who’s glass is picked up at closing time. The one begging that we go riding for a few hours after the bar closes. Heading out with a friend to go swimming at the lake in our underwear, and then eating breakfast at the crack of dawn. Why waste a great buzz, eh?
        I remember writing that post you just read. That was a really bad day for me. I’ve learned to leave it alone, but I’m still not over it. Where I come from women have a loyalty to one another and you just don’t become involved with someone that your close friend or family member was in love with. Her and I never repaired this relationship and unfortunately never will. Sadly, she was the one person in my family that I was closest to, and loved more than any other. I guess she never felt the same about me, huh?