Love

Reality Sets Back In

Much like all things, the high subsides and reality sets back in. Dimples and I were fine, but we were no longer on the high of getting back together. I noticed that I had a bit of a chip on my shoulder and it was harder for me to let go of the pain I had felt and the fear that he would leave again and he slowly stopped trying to prove himself to me. I don’t blame him for that. There’s only so long that can go on before one begins to resent having to prove anything. I knew that down deep, but I still couldn’t shake the feelings of fear and resentment for what he had put me through over that month. I wasn’t consciously keeping him at arm’s length, but I could feel myself doing it and I couldn’t stop myself. It was harder for me to let it go than I thought it’d be.

He promised time and time again that he wasn’t going anywhere and apologized a million times, but somehow I was having a hard time believing it. I was my own worst enemy. I have been told that I must scare the hell out of any man who wants to be with me. Meaning that if I could leave a person having no money, no job, nowhere to live and with a disabled child, I could leave anyone, at any time, for any reason. I didn’t see myself that way. I saw more that I couldn’t figure out how to get someone to stay. Just stay. Stay with me. I was the one having the hard time believing that I was enough.

I knew all I was on paper; attractive, funny, smart, gracious, kind hearted, giving, family oriented, intuitive, but I never got my head around that any of that was enough. My trigger was always feeling less than. Not thought of, not appreciated. I wanted a reciprocated relationship that was effortless. That giving was as natural as taking and that it wasn’t work to want to see someone else happy. I wanted Dimples to feel that from me every day. My problem was I wasn’t sure he was on that same page with me. So I noticed that I became very quiet. Not in everyday talking or communication, but in how I felt. I wasn’t letting him in on my fears and doubts. I tried this a few times and when I did, I had felt that I wasn’t being heard. That Dimples used this time to tell me all about how he felt and what I had done that upset him, but really didn’t acknowledge my feelings or where I was coming from. After a few times of this, I learned quickly that it was easier to jut not bring it up anymore.

I wasn’t asking anything of him. I didn’t need more. Or at least so he thought. I needed it, I wanted it, but I didn’t want to upset the apple card so I kept my mouth shut. THAT is the absolute wrong thing to do, but I was at a loss. I spoke up and felt worse, so keeping quiet seemed to keep everything on the up and up. I soon realized that our relationship was based on as good as my mood. If I was in a bad mood, it changed Dimples and I didn’t like that. If I was in a good mood, we seemed to be good. Really good. So that’s where I decided to live, in a good mood. In a world based on pretend. I don’t know why I was doing this. It wasn’t like I was trying to make things worse. I have a way of ruining a good thing. I have a way of seeking out the bad and making it part of me. I don’t know why I do this and it’s something I struggled with for a long time. I no longer wanted to live in drama. I wanted to be happy. And he was making me happy in so many ways, but in some very tiny, very small, very important ways….I still felt….not all in.

I needed to be all in for us to work. I needed to figure out how to push my own insecurities aside and trust this man. Trust. Funny little word huh? The more time we spend inside our own heads the worse we seem to make things. That’s where I was. In my head. And I was killing us quietly and I don’t even know if Dimples noticed it. I prayed he didn’t, but he was a smart guy, he knew something was a bit off with me and he tried endlessly to comfort my fears. And then something from his end would rise to the surface and my fears would be realized. He once told me in an argument that I wasn’t affectionate enough. I was floored! We held hands, kissed endlessly, had sex on a regular basis, good sex, great sex. How was that not affectionate? But it all came rushing back to me. My own feelings that no matter what I was doing it wasn’t enough. He soon recanted that statement, but it lingered in me like a an old cut that never healed. It wasn’t him at this point. It was me….and the reality of me, began to set back in.

reality

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