(See post below)….He invited me over to his house on the ocean to set me up with a friend of his.  The only two words I could say with any clarity was, “Fuck You.”

Do I think maybe his point was for me to tell his friend that I wasn’t interested in him, instead of Adam telling him?  Or was it because he wanted to pawn me off on his friend?  Could go either way.

I lost myself for a few months there.  It’s all about a man – it’s always about a man – at least for me.

 In April, I met Adam.  So beautiful, so wild, so nutty, so damn sexy!  I did bad things, made bad choices, and fell head over heels in love with a man who only had his smile and the sparkle in his eye to offer me.  Oh, but wasn’t that enough?  We had amazing, wild sex, laughed over stupid TV shows and movies, cried over other stupid movies, tossed a football around, and swam in the ocean.  We jumped off a bridge together, and slept in a hammock on his porch.  He was also an alcoholic who had a hard time holding down a job and had a history of drug addiction.  He had committment issues – or maybe he didn’t – maybe he never wanted anything of the sort.  If he didn’t, then he was a game player and a liar, and a lot of the responsibility of keeping the relationship on any sort of even keel fell to me.

For my own part, all my issues of insecurity and neediness and of wanting too damn much surfaced.  I wouldn’t call him, because I didn’t want him to feel overwhelmed, I lied and said I could be “just friends with benefits” with him, I did many things I felt bad about just to please him and keep him around.  It worked, because he trusted me implicitly, telling me about his other women, and inviting me to his house.  I met his family.  He’d call me when he wanted to feel comfortable, with another person, and he’d let me stay the night, even when we didn’t have sex.  We’d watch stupid I-Tube videos together, laughing, we’d sing along to “You’re the One that I Want” from Grease, and the Hawaiin guy singing, “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” and to that stupid song that still beats in my head, “Circle Circle Dot Dot….I got my cootie shot….do you think that girl is hot?  I think I’d rather not…”

 But I wasn’t myself.  I was always on guard, always trying to show only that which he’d approve of and like.  A week before our spectacularly humiliating break-up we sat on his porch, looking at the ocean, on an absolutely gorgeous evening, and I was tipsy, but I grabbed his huge hand, and looked him in the eye, or tried to until he looked away, and told him, “You add something to my life.  I’ve had a blast the last few months, and I want to thank you for that.”  I meant it.

 In the last few paragraphs, I’ve been trying to take my share of the responsibility for the mess everything ended up in, but I feel like I’ve skirted the issue.  So, here it is, face up.  All my needs, all my insecurities were gushing over – not verbally, but in the fact that I was holding so much back, he couldn’t help but feel that, and know that something wasn’t right.  I wanted way too much from him.  I didn’t actually expect him to deliver(which is in itself a sin), but I hoped, and I wanted, and I prayed, and I people-pleased so damn much that I lost myself again.  Our relationship wasn’t honest on my end, because I wasn’t communicating how deeply I felt for him.  I was afraid I was going to lose him if I did, because he wasn’t ready or willing to have a committed relationship.  So, I perpetuated a lie.

I fell so hard, and so painfully in love with him the anxiety was suffocating at times.  A lot of my energy was wasted on denial, or trying hard NOT commit to the situation I was in.  But I was committed to learn what I was supposed to learn, and see it through to the end.

I released him first with anger and defensiveness, but it only took a few hours to work through that emotion before I could forgive him completely, and wish him happiness and love.  It’s been almost a week now, and I still have ups and downs, I want to cry, I want to hurt him, and I want him to call me, show up at my house, anything, and tell me he loved me too.  I just want to be loved by someone that I feel that way about.  Adam said that to someone once, not to me…he pulled her close to him, and said, “You just need to be loved.”  It wasn’t me.  But the story created another wall because I knew it would never be me.

 So, in finding my way back, I have to stop feeling sorry for myself, because that’s just pitiful.  I am grateful for the amazing moments I experienced over the last few months, and I have to remember that his leaving my life is making room for something even better.