The Heart Break Files, part 3

Day 2 – I got up, checked my blackberry and found myself more furious with each piece of junk email in my inbox. Each one was a new message slap in the face that he had not written. So, I haven’t healed – not at all. I went to work and tried to search out his MySpace page, see when he last logged in. Sept 22nd, the day before the heartbreak. Damn.

I wanted to find her, the woman who was filling my shoes. I wanted to see her world but only knowing her first name and her rough location, that was not really working. I was agonizing over everything. How do I stop? I caught myself sitting at my desk day dreaming about the past. I remember early on, his sweet face one morning as we had been rolling around and then he started to cry and said he wasn’t ready. I could find someone else that was, but he was not. He would understand if I left him. Tears rolling down his face, I held him to me and said that I was not leaving him. I loved him and that was more important. And then flash – over to his washer and drier as he did his laundry, smiling proudly about how crisp and white his t-shirts turn out because he has just the right system. I needed to stop. I needed to move away. I needed to breathe. God! I wanted to snuggle my face in his chest and just smell him one more time. The scent of laundry detergent and old spice and man, all mixed together. I went to lunch with a girlfriend and we talked about anything but him. He was on my heart but for one hour, I needed him off my mind. I was sure that my work was slipping and even more worried about my marriage. I wanted desperately to throw all my energy into my husband, all my love, all my care but I knew if I didn’t suffer through these raw emotions in a successful way, they would keep coming back. Would it have been easier for me to have just had a damn affair? I am beginning to think it might have!

Evenings seem to be better. I am not sure if its just being surrounded by my spouse and kids or if its that there is wine near by. I cracked open a bottle of Silverstone Syrah, turned on my slow songs playlist on my ipod and got to business. I sat and went through all the pictures I had saved from my past and read through old journals and relived all the feelings, in hopes that I could put all the guilt and regret and heart ache to rest once and for all. With each photo, I remembered the place, the time, the smells, sounds, and how I felt. I sat and breathed it in and, unless it was a good memory, I put it in the toss pile. I found myself putting a lot of old pleasant times into the trash pile and found a lot of relief in that. I made a special pile for all my Jesse photos. I would deal with those after. When I was done with the photos, I had gotten rid of close to half of my total collection and I saw a huge change of who I was and who I am now. Then I went through old journals and was amazed and disappointed by the shallow and self-centered little girl I had been. I saw my self-discoveries and my integrity develop, long after I remembered it. Apparently, my memory had failed me on a lot. I was glad to rip away pages and put them in the garbage. I did not need or want those memories in my life.
Finally, it was time to go through the Jesse pile. I went through each picture so slowly. I wanted to cry but I can't yet. I am not there yet. I remembered making a cake for his birthday and it being hideous so I bawled about it and begged my sister to run out and get a store bought one. There were the pictures of him blowing out the candles on the cake, the ones after he saw the ugly home made cake, and he still loved me in all my hopelessness. I saw how young we were and I felt the tension of being too young and in love all over again. Each photo held so much memory but it held so much more to me, too. Each photo was baggage. Each photo was a razor blade that had seared my heart. I threw them all away and didn't look back. I felt the whole thing to be amazingly cathartic and walked out, for the first time, instead of being regretful of who I had been, I found myself proud of the distance I had come and the person who I was turning out to be. This renewed me had much bigger shoes to fill and a life worth having.

The Heart Break Files, part 2

Day 1 - I totally vented to anyone who would listen and by anyone – I mean ANYONE. I told my boss, my co-workers, I even told a business contact from another media outlet that I have never even met. I had lunch with my sister, and, to be honest, it was her influence in the first place that caused us to lose touch so many years ago so, I was a little afraid of what I would hear from her and I was pretty sure, deep down, we all knew she deserved a bit of blame. But, to my surprise, she put it very nicely. “He must’ve put you on that very same pedestal that you put him on. The memories of your relationship must’ve been so great and he must still love you enough to think it was worth risking.” I sat there and that was sweet but did it solve my problems? Not at all. I went home, and revolted against the norm. I wanted to cry and be mad and beg for another chance. I ordered take out, drank a beer, and took a shower by myself. I watched a sneak preview of a premier and when I went to bed, Ruben lit a candle. He was tender and sweet and for the night, I felt like I was in the right arms. I was in the right place and healing these wounds would be easier than I thought.

The Heart Break Files, part 1

Recently (having young children I always want to follow that with, “yes, recently”) I was surfing through people on MySpace when, to my surprise, I saw someone I thought to be dead. However, it was not just someone. It happened to be the ex-love of my life. A person that I was sure, had we not lost one another, we would be together and when I was told he had passed away, I was completely shattered. But the beauty of his passing was that I never had to give up my ideal of him. For me, he would always be that complete romantic, swept up in the passion, love will keep us alive kind of man. Now, seeing his face, his name staring at me, I was shocked. Could this really be him? Almost automatically, I wrote to him. Telling him I thought he had passed away and how relieved I was to see that he was not dead. I asked him to tell me that he was happy in life and that he had found love and found himself over the years that had passed. I waited. Almost two months passed before I heard back. Instantly, all the feelings that I had stored away rushed back to me and, as I tried to push them back to the corner of my heart that they had taken up residence, we continued to correspond. I shared the sadness of my college years and the craziness of my marriage but mostly, I gushed about the complete blessing that my children are. He talked about where he lived and his girlfriend. Over all the emails, I kept feeling that he wasn’t getting my tone. My gentle, friendly nature. If I were not married and did not have children and he did not have his girlfriend, I am quite confident I would pursue a relationship but the facts remained. I am married, I have children, he has a girlfriend, and I would not risk any of those things for either of us. I asked if we could talk on the phone, hoping less would be misunderstood. He ignored the request and ventured to say that he would not live with himself if he broke up a family. Clearly, he did not understand my intentions. So, I laid it out there, I was sorry that he had confused my desires, I had no interest in being more than friends, this would be my last email, the choice was his. He could email me back as just a friendly acquaintance and we could continue our pen pal relationship or he could not.
He did not.

I had told him that I would respect either choice but I will admit, I not only did not respect this choice I was appalled. How could he get such a message from the emails I sent? I had not only encouraged his relationship but also questioned why they were not married, offered to send the ring he gave me to him so he could propose with it. It clearly was not serving me any purpose so, it should go to someone who would love it. I learned I had met his current girlfriend. How could I interfere with that? Moreover, who would risk their family for something like that? Certainly, he thought I was of the moral character to do that and that hurt. And he must have been of the moral character to go there and that completely altered the view I had saved of him. I know that most people are better as a memory but I felt completely betrayed by my memory, by my heart, and by the once upon a time love of my life.

While this is something that I should be able to brush aside and move on, living happily ever after with my spouse and children, I am instead presented with the problem that I now truly need to face that he and I were not perfect for each other and we would not be together. Essentially, I needed to heal from a break-up while still loving my spouse and kids. How do you face heartbreak when your heart should have been somewhere else all along? And how do you move on when you have already moved forward?

These are the things I am going to need to figure out.

First Day of School

So, they went to school – and they didn’t hate it. In fact, Lexi has been begging to spend “all the days and all the nights” there. Mateo tolerates it. At the end of the day, he says he had fun and the teacher confirms that he’s had a good day but I think he’s going to be resentful.
Got them to let me take a few photos to commemorate the day…

Proud Parenting

Taught my daughter to tell her father to pucker up and kiss this (index finger to right butt cheek) – probably one of my very best parenting moments as of yet.

Tomorrow is the End...

The first day is tomorrow. They don’t realize it as they sleep peacefully in their beds but tomorrow is the beginning of the rest of their lives.
You see, tomorrow my children will start preschool. From that day on, they will be dialed into 5 days a week for the rest of their lives. Gone will be the free playing and goofing around as they please. They will be accountable for progress, expected to follow the routine. They fell asleep so peacefully, but if they knew would they ever forgive me? Nah, probably not but then again what are parents for if not to blame every last misery on at a later date in front of a therapist charging you $ 95 an hour.

The things they say

Went to Avila Valley barn with the family today. We were going along on a hay ride when Lexi started tossing the straw everywhere. She was throwing it in people’s hair and off the side of the wagon and annoying the shit out of just about everyone. When she threw some down Mateo’s shirt, that’s where I drew the line. I told her to knock it off and make it better. When I turned a couple minutes later to check her progress she was shaking the crap out of her brother. So I asked her what the heck she was doing. “I’m getting the gay out of Mteo” she said. Somewhere in the mix of the day she had thought hay was pronounced gay but I had to just let it ride because this was, of course, my feather boa loving, high heel wearing, make-up obsessed son that had been hiding in my closet earlier in the morning that she was referring to. Oh the things they say!

I am beginning to realize that my son was born with a built in alarm clock. Every morning he wakes up before six thirty, rain or shine, six o’ clock bed time or 10. What I want to know is where the damn snooze button is.