Interesting that I believed this in May:
If he can welcome me as a diversion/distraction now and then, I can view him the same way.
It's been about a year since I "broke up" with M, and gradually, partly due to being pandemic pod buddies (which really was a sanity-saver at the time), the pattern has gradually inched back into what it was when we were committed romantic partners during a busy (for him) period: dinner once or twice a week, very superficial emails and, when we do see each other...M's compulsive nonstop, silences-are-forbidden, talking. (Amped up lately since he senses me pulling back.)
He's being doing great, professionally. He has thrived on the solitude and been incredibly productive. He has professional trips coming up and many others. He had and weathered a significant health crisis, has lost 50 pounds, looks great and is feeling better. And he appears completely content with the new "friendship" we've been doing.
But I've gradually built up to a reckoning with myself about it. I'm not content. Recently my grief-processing came up to the surface when his two sons each visited for a week. M. immediately planned dinners to include me and I loved seeing them. I had instantly loved them when I met them because: 1) they're terrific young men with lovely families and 2) knowing them and how much they liked me back, ignited my yearning to be part of a family. They were ready. I was ready. M is not.
M is ready to have me be his long-running, ongoing best friend and first companion. His helper and supporter and listener. But nothing's changed from when it hit the fan for me: He doesn't want to make any changes, make a home together, or commit to anything that would require him to downsize, move, make real space for me in his house, etc. He painted two spare bedrooms and when asked about the main living space (Q: How would you make room for me to have some favorite pieces in the main areas? A: "I don't want to change anything." He means it.)
Yet the COMFORT of staying so connected to him has been real and I settled into it.
Lately, I'm a lot less settled. I notice his patterns of conversation:
1) If I'm feeling down or withdrawn he ups the ante with ever-more-frantic talk. The moment he sees me it starts pouring out, and it's always always always the same:
--food
--his work (little history lessons)
--politics
--Covid
That's it. We never, ever, ever talk about anything personal or that I find personally meaningful or intimate. It's not a surprise -- his defenses against vulnerability are enormous and were part of the reason our relationship failed. His compulsions, too. Our future (or a genuinely shared, with some depth future) was blocked, imo.
The other reason I'm reconsidering now is that his sons reminded me of the grief. I've been sad ever since they left. M also acted so strange at those fancy dinners out -- praising me gushingly in front of his sons, beaming at me, and behaving as though I were still his full life partner or fiance. It was awkward, because that's not just "friendship." I found myself just thinking, why am I going along with a charade of real commitment and intimacy, when it's not what we are?
The answer was a mix of loneliness, pandemic podding, and hoping that I could enjoy that connection long-term (I'd adjusted, I thought) without harm to myself.
Now, I'm not so sure. I've been irritable with him lately, everything he goes on about bores me, his narcissism shows up in small and large ways all the time, etc.
He just told me that his sister is coming from Costa Rica and of course he wants me to join them for Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving! I felt sort of locked-down in "devoted companion to trot out for family" mode and last night, wrote him that actually, being around his family is quite painful for me, as it reminds me of my loss of the big dream and future hopes. And that though I still care for him, we're not what we were, and I can't pretend it any longer. His "place in my heart" will endure, but I'm working at facing my future as it most likely will be.
I've been back on the dating site and though action there is very slow, I'll stick with it. I have no sense that I will definitely find what I've yearned for and so at the same time that I remain open, I don't "expect" a certain outcome. In the meantime, it's better for me than sustaining my relationship needs on superficial talk, eating together occasionally, and that's it. It's just not enough, and it's almost like being handed half a glass of water when you have strong thirst. This glass isn't half-full for me, alas.
I've gotta fill up my own glass, one way or another. I dread the prospect of another Covid winter without relying on M, but I think it may be necessary to toughen me up and help me focus harder on my own life, world, friendships, and writing.
In my email to him I said, "Wish we could talk about deeper things sometime" but also that "It's okay." It is okay, in that I'm no longer imagining it would be any different with him. And given that I can't help being who I am any more than he can help being who he is (commanding, self-absorbed, money obsessed), that's the right -- or the real -- place I should be.
Working on it. Life brings challenge and change. I'm committed to my own mental and emotional health and returning to familiar steps. Therapy is good, church is there and I should re-engage, and writing calls.
hugs
Hops
