Saturday, September 20, 2014

Two Weeks

I've allowed myself two weeks to mourn the loss of this relationship. A week for a year's worth of love, adventure, planning and dreams.

You see, I really, really, really thought I'd marry him. It didn't scare me; in fact it thrilled me. I could imagine myself old and the bucketload of stories we'd have to share and remember. And I liked that picture. I didn't really care if we had kids or not. I didn't really care where we were or where we went, because he felt like home.

But that's not the reality any more. In fact, the man I fell in love with seems so far removed from the valium binging, lying, cheating man that I left on Koh Phi Phi.

This Sunday is a special day, as it's the day we were supposed to fly to Paris - the city of romance. I was so excited about revisiting Paris with him as it was a city I had not manage to fall for last time I visited.

It was painful cancelling the rail passes I'd organised for us, the beautiful hotels I had arrange and the car hire for the South of France.

I tried to offer him everything; a career, support (emotional, financial), love, encouragement, friendship, companionship. Everything. Yes there are mistakes I made, but I admitted them and was prepared to do anything to move forward and ensure we could have the happiest time together.

I waited 1.5 years for him to be ready to travel, I know I would have done anything to make him happier and more secure in the relationship, even if it meant ending the relationship amicably. 

Looking back, when something falls apart, you can see the small moments that you should have perhaps done differently. The things you wish you could change. The words you wish you could have said a little louder, or the sentences that should have lingered a little longer.

The truth is, and as much as I love him and what we had back: I deserve better. I deserve honesty, I deserve an apology, I deserve someone who looks me in the eye and doesn't lie. Whether it's about stupid things like phone contracts or important things like the fact he had actually cheated.

I know I'll live an exceptional life, because that's what I want from life. I thought it would be exceptional with him - and that excited me - but I know very well it can be exceptional without him.

Part of me hopes he messages me before Sunday, to talk, to think things through, to decide where we stand and where we want to stand. A bigger part of me, who knows him fairly well, assumes he won't contact me. Because if he contacts me he has to admit that he acted in a selfish and hurtful way.

You see, when you're cheated on it - it hurts. It makes you question the entire time you spent with them, your self worth, why you gave so much for them to only care so little, and what else they told you was a lie. It is soul crushing. It is the most pain I have felt in a very long time.

This year was one of the hardest, most challenging years of my life and the silver lining of it was that we were embarking on a wonderful adventure together; traveling where we wanted, earning a lot of money, and setting ourselves up for the future.

Yes, we argued a lot before we broke up. I think it was in part because we were trying to find a balance between work, traveling and maintaining a relationship. We were moving around too much because of the sponsored stays, which I only did so many of because he wanted to. I knew we needed time to relax and unwind, and that's why I chose to stay so long on Koh Phi Phi. It's a shame he cheated before we had a chance to see how things worked out.

So Sunday it is, I close the door. I'll throw away the key and he can forever be the guy who "it could have worked out with, maybe, in another lifetime". It is sad that the person I loved most in the world will also now be the same person who hurt me the most. But perhaps that's natural - they say energy cannot be created nor destroyed, just changed from one state to another.

The thing is, as sad as I am it is over, I have a good feeling about my future. I've completely rehashed my business model in the past week or so. I've made plans to visit a friend in Bangkok next week, then I'll book some flights to Buenos Aires. I'll learn to salsa dance in South America, I'll become fluent in Spanish and instead of giving my heart to one man who doesn't know how to to look after it, I'll give it to the world.

A few years ago I found this quote, and it feels as poignant now as it ever did: If you love the world, it will love you back!

I love this world and the crazy adventures I'll be embarking on next Wednesday!

Friday, September 19, 2014

Is it Really Over?

It's been two weeks since he cheated, and almost two weeks since I've seen him. This is the longest period we've gone without talking in two years and it S U C K S.

I hate it.

Whenever anything good happens, I want to call him. I'm like OMG Ben would love this and then I remember I can't call him and it just feels really shit.

I feel like my body has split in two: there's my mind which is saying move on, you deserve better, he wasn't perfect, this wasn't ok.

Then there's my heart that sees him and knows him and loves him and understands that he's just a person. Perfectly imperfect.

I'm trying to listen to my 'gut' or my intuition, but my heart and head are far too noisy.

The thing is, I know I can slam that door shut, write a long, long list of all the shitty things he did and the reasons why I don't want him in my life and move on. I'll meet someone else, I'm sure, we'll have some chemistry and some sparks and then happily ever after.

Except, I think I'll always wonder. There was something so magical between Ben and I when we first met. I remember it all so clearly. I felt like I knew him from sometime long ago. It just felt right. Then all of our insecurities got in the way. I ended things. He didn't want to date me. We dated. I sent stupid messages, now this. A game of hurting, backwards and forwards, passing it between us until eventually it exploded.

Sometimes I wonder if in relationships all the love at the beginning comes back at the end, but in the opposite way. The whole entropy thing. Energy cannot be created nor destroyed, just changed from one state to another. What if that's true of love. What if all the love we had - and there was a lot - was changed into hate. Is that why things are so terrible now, why things exploded so badly? Why he blames me for this.

It's hard because I know in my heart of hearts I could forgive him for this. I know in my heart of hearts I WANT to forgive him for this. I want to try again.

But he hasn't messaged me and I don't think he will. I'm not sure if he's too proud, or too busy enjoying single life in Thailand... or if he just doesn't want to.

I have listened to the rap he wrote me a few times and it breaks my heart. There's no doubt in my mind that he loved me, so why did we end up here?

I just wish I could give him a hug, tell him I accept his flaws and see where we stand.

The thing is, being in a relationship makes you vulnerable. I knew his weaknesses, the stupid things he had done (well some of them), his faults, his strengths, I knew how he was with money, I'd seen him really drunk, stoned and all of these things. I'd really seen him - all of him - good and bad. And I loved him still.

I wonder if he just wanted to be seen through someone new's eyes. To feel perfect, exciting and new.

I know either way I'll be fine, but a big part of me is hoping for an email with answers, at the very least.

The more I try to let go, the more I want to hold on.

It has taken all of my will power to not message him this past week, but I don't even know if I'm making the right 'moves' :(

Saturday, September 13, 2014

Letting Go Part 2

I find myself seeking comfort here. I've been here before, writing the same words before about the same man.

Last weekend I was cheated on and lied to, by the one person I adored more than anything.

And as much as that hurts, and sucks, and I wish I could invent a time machine to stop it all from happening. There's something that hurts more:

That he never told me anything was wrong. He never told me he had doubts of our relationship. He never told me he wanted out.

In fact, he told me he loved me and wanted to marry me.

In the past 5 days I've literally had my world tossed upside down.

I knew I had to leave immediately, even though I didn't want to. I wanted to stay. I wanted to talk. I wanted to work it out. I wanted to forgive him and love him and cuddle him.

But I left.

Now I'm in Ubud, Bali and I can see all the ways I was neglecting myself in that relationship. I wasn't my best self. After such a traumatic family event earlier in the year, I had forgotten how to take care of myself. I had forgotten what I needed. I had forgotten how to be me.

Today I had a very emotional 90 minute Yin class. While my body released tensions, my emotions built up and constantly my thoughts went back to him.

There were so many lovely things in our relationship - the way we worked together, when we went luging, I loved the ways his eyes lit up when he talked about things he was passionate about, the way I felt in his arms. I knew his whole body. I thought I knew his mind.

And I loved him, deeply, passionately, thoroughly.

I've never loved anyone quite that much before.

We'd been having problems, a few fights. We had been moving around too much, maybe he was missing home, maybe he was uncertain he wanted to travel with me, maybe he wasn't sure. I was stressed about home.

But we never had an opportunity to work through those things and that hurts me deeply.

He's the man I stayed in Christchurch for, for 1.5 years in order to be able to go on an adventure for.
He's the man who I loyally filmed at as many races and practice runs as I could.
He's the man that I used to find myself wrapped up in his arms, and wonder how anything could feel so good.
He's the man who was a part of each and every plan and dream I had for my future.

And now he's the man I cannot see, I cannot hug, I cannot talk to, I cannot touch.

This transition from seeing him every day to not seeing him at all hurts. It's painful. It aches.

It feels unnatural.

There's a big part of me that wants to sit down with him at the table, lay everything out, and see if there's enough there that we can rebuild. I can forgive, but is there enough to rebuild?

I now know, for the first time in my life, what it is to love someone unconditionally. I can see past this mistake, I can see that he's human, I can see that I had an influence in his actions.

But there's a part of me that's wondering if this was the universe's way of thrusting me to where I needed to be. Teaching what I needed to learn. And showing me what I needed to be shown. Even if it's not the lesson I wanted right now.

In a week he'll be boarding a flight to Paris. Our flight. The flight we were supposed take together heading to Europe.

The thing I find hardest to deal with is wondering if he'll ever be in my life again. If I'll ever be able to brain storm about silly ideas, watch geeky documentaries with him, or nuzzle into his shoulder again.

The last day we hung out normally he collected heart shaped pieces of coral for me. :(

Will he now become that someone that I used to know?

Every inch of my body doesn't want this to become true.

So over the next few weeks, before I head back to Thailand, I'm going to do a lot of Yin. I'm going to dig deep. I'm going to allow myself to let go. I'm going to let go of what I can't control. I'm going to learn to trust in the universe again. I'm going to get excited about Buenos Aires. I'm going to hope that there's a time, in future, where we can be a part of each other's lives again.

I'm going to breathe and hope it works out exactly as it was always supposed to, even if it's now how I imagined or what I wanted at all.

Friday, January 18, 2013

Letting go

When I flew home in October I was anxious; maybe I knew that an emotional shitstorm was impending, maybe I was just worried about the loss of an adventure. It doesn't really matter which way it was - it simply wasn't comfortable. It wasn't good for me.

So I left and looking back I can objectively say I was running away as much as I was running towards. I was running towards the life I'd created over the past two years; fluid, full of movement, change. I was running away from hurt, lies and someone who seemed to have a hold over me they simply didn't deserve.

It's been a weird trip. Oddly balanced by extraordinary wonder and then just life. Life has interrupted this trip. It has grabbed me, shaken me and forced perspective down my throat.

The dramas that unfurled between someone I really cared about when I was home really felt like the end of the world, or at least that world that I'd reserved and dug out of my imagination. Sometimes it's the loss of things that didn't exist yet that hurt the most; the loss of possibility. Then there's the knowing - the knowing that they will always be the person that made you feel like that. But that is just a memory now, isn't it?

I find myself wondering what I'm scared of. Is it some kind of lingering hurt that's echoing throughout me or is it the acute awareness of what that person is capable of. Is is just knowing this is a situation I have no control over.

Just north of Chiang Rai my friend and I were returning from a border run at the Burmese border on a motorbike when we passed through a sleepy village. Everyone had poured onto the footpaths and traffic was slow; the cars, motorbikes and bystanders were all holding their breath.

As we passed through the cordoned off scene, it became obvious that only minutes before there had been a motorcycle crash. A man lay still, his head surrounded by blood and his eyes facing towards me. It was the first time I'd seen someone dead like that, but the most chilling part was the fact no one was helping him. He was so dead there was no urgency in tending to him. Nothing could be done.

I thought about his family, did he have children? A wife? How would they be told? I felt sick, what had happened back home seemed to small in comparison, so permeable.

As I get older I'm trying to let go of a lot of things simply because they're heavy.

But also because they're not relevant anymore.
They don't exist anymore.
They're just memories; anchors resting on the seabed from ships that sailed away many years ago.

I'm home in exactly one month.

I used to believe that traveling to far- away and exotic places would change me the most. That the culture shock, the unfamiliarity, the difference would force me to evolve, but now I've realised going home seems to change me the most.

That same familiar anxiety returned and I'm going to try to let go.