A couple of months ago I saw that somebody I had a tortured relationship with was on FB. It’s a complicated story, but basically we both came apart at the seams, and our relationship didn’t have a chance. But we were young and passionate, and I know that in our own ways we loved each other. He didn’t behave well towards me, and I did some things I’m so regretful of that impacted on him.
Truth? We were both dealing with far too much within ourselves to be able to have a healthy relationship. But we were joined at the hip in many ways. For many years.
I haven’t been able to close the door, even though we’ve been apart for over 20 years, and we live on different continents. The other day I wanted to greet him, and say I was sorry from the bottom of my heart for that part of my behavior that impacted on him, and for any hurt I may have caused him. I just wanted to take responsibility for myself.
It was difficult to write without trying to justify myself, but I did it. I got a slap in the face reply: The title was !!!!! – [read “fuck off] and the message was “I want you to have a good life. Please do not write to me again. I will not respond”. That was painful, and it lit up all my “I’m a piece of detritus” buttons, so I guess it was a good thing, it showed me I’ve still got work to do.
Mind you, I know that anyway. What was I looking for? I was looking to mutually honor the time we had and who we were; to each forgive ourselves and each other. Looking to find the meaning in an experience that took a huge part of my life and involved every bit of me. Or that’s what I thought.
When he slammed the door I realized how much unresolved stuff I have. I’m pretty sure that slamming the door on it just postpones the inevitable. Whatever’s unresolved keeps on presenting in different forms until you face it. I prefer to try to resolve, when I can. It’s painful and uncomfortable, but at least it’s clean.
Well, he didn’t want to participate, and he’s entitled to do whatever works for him. It would have been great if he could have been decent about it, and at least honored my genuine attempt to honor him. If dumping on me made him feel good, hey, Mazeltov. It hurt, but it switched the light on for me. I don’t need others to forgive me my mistakes and to honor me. I need to forgive myself. Honor myself.
Plus, it made me realize why this relationship never worked in the first place. The tango is a great dance, but it takes two. I’m cleaning out my cupboards so that the next dance partner I have knows how to play his part.