Not for Nothing…

I’m really trying to keep myself from overanalyzing where things stand with O, where I want them to go, or how close they are to actually progressing….I promise: I really am TRYING! Ok, so the English major in me involuntarily cringes at the very thought of the expression, ‘Not for nothing,’ but it’s pretty much where my heart is at this very moment.

Hoping all this is NOT for NOTHING!

BTW: In case you were wondering, yesterday’s lunch date SHOULDN’T count!

Oh, well…night out with the girls tonight: dinner, drinks, dancing. Just what I need!

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Lunch Dates Don’t Really Count, Do They?

So, yeah, still back in limbo.

I’ve now spent every evening this week with O. Monday: dinner with him & his mom (who I really wanted to see), Tuesday: dropped off a b-day gift for his youngest (so she could wear the outfit ON her b-day) and hung out for a while, and Wednesday: for said chid’s birthday dinner (w/O’s dad & stepmom)….

In some ways, it feels like we’ve skipped the unknown stuff and are just comfy together again…until *something* reminded me that we’re not.

We’re coasting a bit…and I’m doing a pretty good job of not letting it bug me.

Don’t get me wrong. All’s not peachy-keen and tied up with a big red bow (whatever that would look like). I’m not really cool with where we stand, but like I’ve said before, I think part of me just expects it to turn south, so I’m kind of a bit guarded. Also, I’m still making myself remain open to other possibilities.

In fact, I have  a lunch date with a guy I haven’t seen in a long time, but who asked me out like a year ago. We never dated because I wasn’t really up for it at the time, but he’s a really (seemingly) awesome, and I refuse to continue to live my life on hold.

My heart IS still on hold; I have little (to no) control over that, but where I go and with whom I spend time that I can control.

New-est guy (‘A’) is an unknown. And while I’ve been kind of forcing myself to be open to a relationship with new/old guy, A has potential on a completely different level. But we’re doing a lunch date today because he’s leaving tomorrow for a business trip to Hawaii. He’s away on business a LOT. Does a lunch date really count?

Not so sure….or why I’m concerned if it ‘counts.’

I was really encouraged yesterday by a comment about not skipping over these hard parts of life…and I ascribe to that wholeheartedly. I just can’t help wanting to be in a more settled place.

I’m really trying to focus on the big picture.

Ok if things work out with O.

Ok if things don’t.

I’m just still struggling with the patience thing. Oh, well, lunch date in T-minus 30 minutes….

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I Lied…AGAIN!

Totally unintentionally, I swear. I totally dove in head first into “getting over” him…sad songs, sappy chick-flicks, getting dragged out of my apartment by a girlfriend, not answering my phone or replying to texts. The whole nine yards.

Then Saturday morning, while recovering from a friend’s Halloween party in West End (Dallas), I get a text asking if I’d open my door…for a small chat. And I become a liar, yet again.

Really, really, really over becomes…back to no-man’s land of I’m-not-sure-what-we-are. After spending a few hours talking…well, I was REALLY a liar.

But we go on with our regularly scheduled weekends, which for me included a date with ‘new/old guy’ on Sunday night.

I’m still in shock that I’m ‘here’…again…still. WTF? In some ways, I’m less invested, having already grieved so much over it that even though it’s just a natural thing to melt back into his arms and life, like surrendering to the tide, I also feel like I’m floating along not really believing things will be different.

My hope IS still broken, but I can’t help but give it another try. Guess it’s not only my hope that’s broken. My resolve seems to be nonexistent.

For the moment.

Where’s the freakin’ fast forward button? I don’t want to miss out on life, but I also just want to get past this part…with or without him. I have a preference. Duh! I wouldn’t be the liar I am today were that not the case.

Lying sucks. And loving kinda sucks at the moment, too.

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What My Mom Might Say

As I think I’ve mentioned only in passing on this blog, my mom died the week before I turned 16. And while I don’t think there’s one parent that’s “easier” to lose than the other, I learned in a sophomore-level psych class that for girls, the presence of their father is more crucial than their mother when it comes to developing healthy self-esteem and some other personal development issues. I never quite swallowed that pill, but I was thankful that I had two great parents between whom I couldn’t distinguish one that would be ‘better’ to lose.

I chalked it up to academia vs. real life…and I didn’t have to agree or disagree. I just wanted a good grade.

But here I am, a seemingly well-adjusted, grown-up woman, and while I have an amazing relationship with my Dad, I’m SO wishing I could talk to my mom right about now.

You see, I’ve had relationships end before. C’mon, now. But this is way different. I’ve somehow managed to have much healthier relationships before this one. Ones that while very important, still ended. But they ended with clarity, with compassion, with…well, closure.

This, however, is a horse of a different color.

We didn’t fight. We didn’t tear each other down verbally. We actually got along swimmingly…it was SO easy…just being together.

But it was also toxic for me.

Not going into details here, but suffice it to say, I just had to walk away because things weren’t changing. I was living on dissapating hope that things could change. But they never did….

I’ve had a few friends (and even one blogger) tell me to picture myself listening to a friend describe this situation and imagine the advice I’d give them.

But I’m craving more than my own less-than-sage wisdom on the subject.

I find myself wondering what my mom might say, were she still here.

I can replay all kinds of conversations I’ve had with her in my mind. Especially the conversations we had in the months before she died. When she was trying to cram a lifetime’s worth of advice and wisdom into the little time we had left together this side of eternity.

But we never covered this one. I guess she never fathomed I’d be here.

Me neither, mom. Don’t feel bad! But I sure do wish you were here.

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Cold Shoulder BECAUSE I Still Care

I know it’s counterintuitive, but it’s true. I’m acting against my own wishes at this point. Ignoring calls and text messages, refraining from even updating my Facebook status (which let me just say is very hard!)…all for one reason: I STILL CARE!

If I were over him it wouldn’t be a big deal to answer a text message or answer when he calls. The trouble? I KNOW he’s not in a different place. That being the case here’s the drill:

I walk away.
He lets me know he misses me.
I reciprocate.
Before I can say, “RaTard,” we’re right back where we were before.
Things coast for a little bit until we’re back to me walking away.

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

We both know the drill.

My words “It’s really, really, really over” lost all meaning because my actions proved that it wasn’t really, really, over.

Until now.

I can’t go on like this. My heart can’t take it. His “I Love You’s” started feeling like daggars. Like those three words were supposed to make the excrutiating limbo place an ok thing. Only it wasn’t.

I’m moving on. By the sheer force of my will.

I WILL BE OPEN TO NEW RELATIONSHIPS.
I WILL BE OPEN TO NEW RELATIONSHIPS.
I WILL BE OPEN TO NEW RELATIONSHIPS.
I WILL BE OPEN TO NEW RELATIONSHIPS.
I WILL BE OPEN TO NEW RELATIONSHIPS.
I WILL BE OPEN TO NEW RELATIONSHIPS.
I WILL BE OPEN TO NEW RELATIONSHIPS.

Like when our teachers would make us write sentences, to negatively reinforce good behavior??? Not so much.

But I was always OCD enough to actually derive some pleasure from the monotonous task. And while typing that sentiment hasn’t done much for my OCD-type drives, I am forcing myself to at least be open to a new, healthy relationship. New guy isn’t so new. I’ve ‘known’ him since we were six, but it’s only been recently that we’ve reconnected. Our friendship rekindled over the past few months has been refreshing but not dramatic.

I’m ok with that.

And I will be open to the possibility of things going past friendship. It’s a little hard to picture today, but I will get there.

Not if I continue to string my heart along with conversations that lead back into old emotionally destructive (for me) patterns.

It’s BECAUSE I still care that I have to be so inaccessible. Guarding my heart from what I’m sure is only another break.

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Tying Up Loose Ends

Ok, so officially one week after “the real end” and I’m still reeling…

But there’s been one looming loose end. Waiting for the opportunity to “tie it up” was rather excrutiating, but also left a sliver of room for hope that things would straighten out, turn right side up, or whatever analogy for working out you prefer.

Only it didn’t.

And last night a brief, nakedly honest text conversation ensued.

While there was more that could have been said, it simply wasn’t.

He started hinting as I was ending the conversation, but I couldn’t ask.

Wouldn’t ask…

…and he didn’t continue.

My ability to hope (at least in this circumstance) is broken…beyond repair, I’m afraid.

So, loose end tied up… and the rest unravels.

But my knots are loosening.

I can feel some healing starting to take place. And hope for God’s plan to be revealed is like a tiny green plant growing through a crack in cement. You watch in wonder how against all odds it pushes its way through.

Cool, God. Very cool.

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Clean Break

I’ve never been a scab picker…too gross. Even though I’ve never really been good at ‘leaving well enough alone’ as my dad calls it, I just couldn’t stand the thought of picking at a scab and making myself bleed…

Except emotionally. I seem to be an expert emotional scab picker. Almost forcing myself to jump in the deep end of feeling sad. I think I do it hoping to shorten the length of time it’ll take to heal. Like wallowing will speed up the process.

Who knows? Maybe it does.

What I know hasn’t worked over the past few months of trying to end it and move on (quite unsuccessfuly, I might add) is continuing to give in to my emotions that want to give it another try. Only trying again in the same state, with the same broken definition of love, well, it just doesn’t work. Not at all.

So, this time, I’m trying something new. If insanity is trying the same thing and expecting different results, then trying something new and hoping for a different outcome has to be the definition of sanity. Right? C’mon, right???

Well, I’m desperately hoping for a clean break. You know when someone breaks their arm or leg and the doctor says it’s a clean break, that’s a good thing. Not a jagged break, but a straight break.

After returning something by mail to avoid any further conversation, I was pretty much informed that even though I didn’t need my stuff back, I was going to get it in person, sooner or later. Barring breaking my lease and moving apartments, getting a new job, or entering the witness protection program, I could have opened my door to an unexpected confrontation. One for which I was unprepared and THAT could be emotionally hazardous to my health.

So, once again, not doing what is best for me but what he wanted, I sucked it up and stopped by to pick up my stuff. It hurt…a lot. I’m not gonna sugar-coat it for you. Being face to face with what my heart wants but knows is less than the kind of love God has for me, well, I had to keep reminding myself I’d wind back up in this same spot…or worse, commit to living that life forever feeling less than cherished.

I’m praying God continues to break my heart. Not over the ended relationship, but over my acceptance of something that was less than His best for me. Breaks my heart over the fact that He’s been grieved by my settling, by my own underestimation of my worth to Him, by my own failure to see myself through His eyes.

I’m praying for a clean break that He can heal…

Truly restore.

Truly.

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Vision Check

When I was eight I remember having lots of headaches, especially after a day at school. I even remember complaining to my mom so much that she felt major guilt after the school nurse performed routine vision tests and determined that I needed glasses.

Since then, I get my eyes checked every year and while my perscription hasn’t changed much throughout the years, even slight changes make a big difference. Those changes in my vision take place so gradually that I don’t notice until it’s time for a check-up.

I find I get that way with my heart, too. Like making concessions I might not have otherwise made. Or settling for less than what I know I’m looking for.

I’ve recently been jarred into a check-up of my heart and found more had gotten fuzzy than I’d realized. For instance, I’d settled for so little for so long that I have actually believed it’s all I deserved. Knowing somewhere in my heart that it wasn’t true, but all I saw when I looked around me was evidence to the contrary.

It’s been painful realizing that I’d only gotten to that place of hurt by incrementally accepting less and less of what God has for me…the kind of love that reflects His heart for me. Not the kind that takes all it can get without regard for the best for others.

There were so many redeeming things and so much potential that I let my vision of what He’s called me to get fuzzier and fuzzier…. I’ve spent the past week getting my eyes checked. Looking at the ‘chart’ (His word) of what that kind of love looks like. And it’s been really painful. Realizing how very pitiful my meager definition had become.

And making changes based on this latest check-up has been rather excruciating. I’m not gonna lie.

But then I think of how God’s heart must have been aching for the past six months watching me hold on to so little rather than letting go and trusting Him…I see I probably should have walked away and trusted Him to either do the work that needed to happen before compromise set in…or just to be open to a new thing He’d bring. 

I’m still bruised and grieving. No doubt about it.

But I’m also hopeful. Really hopeful…for the first time in a long time. If God’s got a definition of love that dwarfs mine (and I KNOW He does), then it’s worth this grieving now.

I keep reminding myself of that….

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I’ll Have What She’s Having…

I love this line from ‘When Harry Met Sally’ (the 80′s movie with Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal).

Ok, while the scene itself doesn’t need describing (and I’d blush just putting it into words), the sentiment is a universal one. We all know what it’s like to look around and see something someone else has and think, “Ooh, I want that, too.”

Last weekend I went to Portland for one of my closest friend’s wedding. As a matter of fact, I was an honorary best man. (Yeah, kind of a weird thing for a girl to be, but hey, I’ve had less likely titles in my life.)

Although I love my friend Garza and his new bride Emily, it wasn’t when I looked at them that I thought, I’ll have what they’re having. It was listening to the words the pastor (Randy Remington of Beaverton Foursquare Church) that inspired the “I want that!” feeling. It was hands down one of the very best wedding ceremonies I’ve ever witnessed. And trust me when I say, I’ve been to more than my fair share!

While I know some people think there’s no need for a “sermon” at a wedding, these words describing the commitment the bride and groom were making that day were more than fitting…they were inspiring.

Speaking from Hosea, Pastor Remington shared God’s definition of the marriage relationship. I don’t even remember all seven of the descriptors, but what I do remember is feeling inspired to look at my small definition of not only marriage but God’s covenant relationship with us, His bride.

I remember thinking, I want to be loved (and to love) like that….

When you’re tempted to think too small or settle for less than His best, stop and think…

What are you currently basing your comparisons on?
Whose definition of ‘awesome’ are you looking to?

If it leaves you feeling anything less than CHERISHED, stop! RUN, don’t walk back to His word on the matter.

God’s plans are extravagent—don’t settle for anything less!

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