The Man has been reading this blog since its inception, back when he and I were still pretending to be just friends. There was a time when I didn't really want to share him with you; was too confused and conflicted about our relationship. But that's no longer the case and The Man himself has suggested that the omission of our relationship is leaving an obtrusive black hole in my blog. He has encouraged me to write freely, write honestly, about anything at all, as if he wasn't reading. So here goes:
The Man's Facebook page is making me insecure.
Now, I'm a rational woman. And that statement? Zero logic. So let's back up for a minute and start at the beginning, lest this confession make you question my cognitive abilities.
Once upon a time, The Man and I fell in love. It was 2004. We met at a party... and then stayed at the party until after 4 in the morning. And then we stayed in his car until after 7 in the morning. It was love; immediate love. The only problem was that he already had a girlfriend. But surely we could be friends, right? Why let this obvious soul mate connection go to waste simply because he was off the market.
Yes. We'd be the best friends the world had ever seen.
Heh. Right. We tried. We really, really tried. But we were in love, and no one was buying that we weren't.
I was his soul mate, but she was his girlfriend. She was the one he could see himself building a life and a family with. And so they married. And then came the babies. And I, his best friend in the whole wide world, got to sit in the front row and watch all of it, heartbroken, and try to understand.
Was he in love with both of us, and simply chose to stay on the path he'd been on when we met? Was he in love with both of us, but with her just a little more? Did he think we were a good fit emotionally, but not practically? Was I simply a little bit of porn; a tantalizing "other" to break up the monotony of his monogamy?
It didn't matter, really. There was someone better. Period.*
When we reconnected two years ago, much of our conversations were focused on healing the hurt caused by those earlier years. But our reconnection happened one month before he moved out of state, so we've done virtually all of our healing at great distances. While I am frankly amazed at how many pieces we've been able to put back together under these circumstances, there are still cracks. And on bad days, some of my insecurities start seeping through those cracks.
Yesterday was one of those days.
...AAAAAAnd we're back to Facebook. Ta Da!
Here's the thing: The Man is friends with a lot of his ex-girlfriends, and they insist on commenting on his status updates. They have inside jokes and references that I don't understand. They like the same music he likes. They're gardeners. They're yogis. They're earthy. They're pretty. They're interesting.
They are things that I am not. (There was someone better.) And I start feeling rejected again.
Of course I know how ridiculous this is. But there are a few things going on here:
1. Current Stress. This only happens on days when I'm already feeling like crap; already feeling ugly and unaccomplished and completely boring. Days when I'm suffering from not enough sleep or too many hormones. Days when The Kid or The Ex or The Dog are just too much to handle.
2. Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. He chose to marry someone who wasn't me. Sometimes I get a little carried away and project the hurt caused by that one former relationships onto all of them.
3. Texas. We live many states and thousands of miles apart. Really, all I need when I start feeling this way is a hug. Instead we have to try to talk about it; try to use a rational conversation as the salve for a completely irrational wound.
That last one is a big one. There is so much about a long distance relationship that allows insecurities to thrive. So much that wouldn't be given the chance to be an issue, if only I could hold his hand, look into his eyes, fall asleep to the rhythm of his breath. Stupid Texas.
Thank God he'll be back in Seattle soon. Until then, I'm thinking that staying away from his Facebook page might be a good idea.
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*I found out much later that The Man thought I was done having children. He wanted some, so my lack of desire to bear his little ones was a deal breaker. But here's the thing: The Man thought wrong. I would have happily had another baby. Whoops.
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