Diary of a Heartbreak: Entry Four

 I slept again last night.  Five hours and 13 minutes straight (thank you Fitbit).  Thanks to being well rested, I had a bit of an epiphany this morning.  You're going to have to excuse the fact that it took me nearly 45 years to realize something that many people (most, I hope?) intrinsically know, but that has not been my path.  Anyway, I realized that as long as I continue to think of myself as garbage, I will continue to find people to treat me as such.

Don't get me wrong, I have had moments of happiness and loving myself and I bask in the warmth and light of some really, truly, amazingly wonderful friendships.  However, when it comes to men, it's like they can peer down into my soul and see I'm missing something, they sense my devastatingly low self-esteem, and it is extremely attractive to certain types of men.

These men give me just enough to hook me, just enough love, just enough kindness, to fill my void.  And then they go for the jugular.  And they aren't even bad men.  But they are men who don't trust women.  And they aren't trustworthy.  When you are dealing with a man who is not trustworthy, you are always under fire because they can't conceive of  a world where you are truly loving and devoted only to them.  At the same time, I can never fathom what they are doing, because I cannot conceive of a world where I would do something like that to the man I love.  So here we are not understanding each other at all, until it all blows up.  And then I can see it all so clearly.  Even with past experiences to guide me, I still can't always see.  Or maybe, in this case, I really, really didn't want to.

Now this is has not been every man.  I've known many good men.  I've never felt deserving of them.  So those relationships couldn't last.  Other relationships we loved each other then grew apart.  But these soul devastation situations, these are with this one certain type of man.

And now, finally, the year I turn 45, I understand.  I have to stop believing I am garbage to attract men who will treat me with the type of respect and love I have to offer them.  Period.

 I bought a puzzle recently.  I was drawn to the website by a social justice coloring book and I saw the meta puzzles and impulse bought one.  Now, I am going to use that 1,000 piece puzzle as a guidepost and meditative release.  As I work to complete the puzzle, I will use that space to grieve the loss of this love and work through all of the complicated emotions associated therewith.  When I put that final piece of the puzzle in, I will be taking back the key he held to my heart, and I will take back the title to my body.  Wrong or right, I handed the man my whole self.  Body, mind, spirit and most importantly, my greatest treasure, my precious heart.  They are out there in limbo now, as he left them to pursue his other interests, and I, in mourning, am not ready to reclaim them.  

But the day will come.  And if I get lost and try to forget my problem instead of deal with it (which puts me in the dangerous territory known as the backslide zone), I will have a super tangible reminder, as the puzzle will remain unfinished in my living room. 

Honestly, I feel the pain everywhere.  It manifests physically even.  But as long I keep breathing, the time will pass.  And the passage of time will shift the pain from acute, to intense, to throbbing, to persistent, to a knot in my heart which, someday, maybe someone new will release completely.