Thanks for the Clarity.

Damn, a lot has happened in the last year.

A year ago, I was a scared single mama. Taking the kidlet on a road trip, just the two of us. We made amazing memories during that long weekend. I agonized over whether to contact Leon, and remember how I decided to just do it. Hell, I'd just stood on the edge of a canyon with no railing. I could text a man I cared about to let him know I was thinking about him. I wished him well and he responded.

And I came home a different person. Braver. I remember racing home to see CF, who called me out on stuff, and got me out of my comfort zone. What we decided that night did not end up happening. But not because I wasn't brave enough. Because he wasn't.

And less than five months later, the kidlet and I flew to another state where I navigated a wonderful trip for him. On my own. And I wasn't scared and it was amazing. And a few months after that, I did it again.

I've got this.

I had avoided watching Private Practice for the last three weeks. I didn't think I could handle watching the Charlotte/rape storyline.

But yesterday, I went to therapy. And we talked about the assault. And we talked about how scared I've been. And we talked about how I need to remember not to let my anger at LI get pushed off onto the husband or to Eric. And how I should be responsive, not reactive. It's a little easier said than done. Because I can't control how other people act.

But last night, I decided to go ahead and watch the episodes I had been avoiding.

And, sure, it was awful. And, yeah, I looked away during the brutal scenes.

But what really struck me was how they focused on the reactions of those closest to her. And how they navigated the minefield of emotion around her.

And I found myself realizing that maybe... Just maybe... Eric isn't quite the asshole I think he is.

That maybe he simply did not know how to deal with what happened. And the flipping out I did freaked him out. So, he ran away instead of facing it head-on.

Am I excusing his whole "it's okay for me to cheat on my girlfriend and make you feel insignificant" act? No.

But maybe he was grieving too. Because if he ever did love me (and I really would like to think that he did at one time. I spent a significant period of time with the man) maybe it was really hard for him to deal with what had happened. Then again, maybe he didn't really realize what happened. I did downplay it quite a bit that night.

But last night, watching that show... I sat on this couch, beneath the red blanket, and I shivered. Just like I did that night. With Eric on the other end of the couch. He had to have known that something inside of me had shifted.

But for whatever tough act I'd put up that night, Eric was the one who knew me best. He was the one who pointed out the vulnerability inside of me. And he was the one who had sworn never to hurt me.

And then there's the husband. Maybe the reason why he wouldn't hold my hand the other night after dinner or when we went to coffee is that he's scared. He actually does know what happened. Maybe, just maybe, he deserves a little bit of grace because maybe, just maybe, he's scared to touch me because he's scared of scaring me the way he does know that I was scared that night.

And the girls who know and have not contacted me since? Maybe I can offer them some grace now, too. Because they don't know how much it hurts to share something so awful and then have them disappear. And they don't know that Eric did the same thing to me, so that makes their disappearance hurt that much more.

For whatever reason, people are who they are. And they don't get the answers when they don't ask the questions. And I can learn to be okay with that... Eventually.

Two years ago, TF and CB included me with their family. And I remember checking my phone for some kind of acknowledgement that HRT was thinking of me. (I really need to stop having major breakups in November! (Yes, even the husband and I broke up over Thanksgiving. Three years ago. LOL)

But this morning, I did that silly note about books on fb. And some of those titles were highlighted, thanks to people who are no longer in my world.

So, I sent a little Light and Love their way, and I'm moving on.

I'll get through this day. Even though I know where I'm not wanted. I'm grateful to know that I was wanted in many other places today.

And I'm going to forgive those who didn't want me today. Because they know not what they do. They're not wired that way.

And, hell, I'm even going to forgive the ones who didn't want me today that DO know what they do. Because I want to be THAT girl.

I'm going to be good to ME today.

And I'm so fucking grateful for the Thanksgivings past that brought me to where I am today. I DO have a lot to be thankful for, even if it doesn't look like it from the outside.

Scars heal. And they DO fade. I'm walking proof of that.

I have a wonderful child who loves me and I had an amazing day with him yesterday. And when I do see him again, I'll be so glad.

I have a plan for today.

I have my BGPs. I have technology. I have an awesome job. I have amazing friends. I am loved. Maybe not by one man who wants to love me and be with me, but I am surrounded by love. I do know this.

And I'm finally learning to be alone. And it doesn't totally suck. It's got its perks, too.

Happiest of Thanksgivings to you, the few who bother to read this drivel. Live and Breathe Gratitude.

Letter to Eric.

Dear Eric,

I'm sad now.

In that last angry email you sent me, you reminded me that you and I had enjoyed each other. And that you wanted to focus on that.

And we really had.

So, why did you tell Cara that you and I were "incompatible for dating"?

That wasn't true.

You and I were totally compatible for dating. We totally enjoyed each other's company. We laughed together, cried together. We talked for hours on end.

We took trips together. Wonderful ones. We enjoyed traveling together. We were good at that. We flew to faraway destinations and then took road trips from there. Just the other day, I was remembering how you held the door for me after we had played in the snow. And you leaned in to kiss me. And it was so sweet.

And we could talk about politics and religion and relationships and the dorkiest shit imaginable. All the way through two states and back.

And then we took that ride over the falls, something that terrified each of us. But we took that risk. Together. And then that walk over that bridge. Together.

We weren't compatible?

Fuck you for saying that. Ever. Sure, we argued. Because we were passionate about each other. But for you to dismiss our relationship like that? When even as recently as two days ago, you were still reminding me that I was the one who broke up with you???!!!

You betrayed me long before I told Cara the truth. You lied about me. You lied about our love for each other. Or maybe you didn't lie to her. Maybe you lied to me. Maybe you were lying to me as we drove down that highway, watching the deer hopping alongside the road. Maybe you were lying to me when we held hands in that cab in my favorite City.

I can't believe we've come to a place where you can minimize everything that we shared. And you were doing it long before I spoke to her.

Fuck you, you self-serving jerk.

And I'm sitting here, crying, because you decided to give me the big "fuck you" by blocking me on Facebook? You wanted to hurt me? Congratulations, you've done it. Again.

I guess this is what happens when you get too involved with a rebound.

I should have known this was going to end this way. I guess I did know that night when you first told me you were dating her.

That's why I asked for the journal back.

Not because I wanted it. But because I didn't want YOU to have it. Because even then, I didn't trust you with it. I knew the day would come when you would share our words with someone else.

I destroyed it. I destroyed it before I even saw you again.

And then everything else happened. And I realized that I still love you. That I'm still in love with you.

And I allowed myself to let you use me. And I allowed myself to get caught up in your games. And your shades of gray.

Dammit, Eric. I trusted you. And now I'm second-guessing everything you EVER said to me.

I owe you a huge "thank you".

Thank you for reminding me that anybody who says "I'm the most honest person out there. I never lie. I'm completely forthcoming" is probably hiding something.

Cara was stunned. She trusted you, too.

But her shock made me realize that maybe I really didn't know you as well as I had thought. Or maybe you really were completely honest with me, but since that blew up in your face, you decided not to trust her as much as you had trusted me.

Eric, I'm sorry I hurt you when I broke up with you. I really, truly am. I loved you. I trusted you. I was so happy to anticipate going to Europe with you. I actually let my guard down and thought we could have a future together. I wanted to let you keep your promise to kiss me under the Eiffel Tower.

You were the only man I really considered that way.

And I got scared. And I wanted my family back. And I felt like I couldn't move forward with you until I had actually finished my marriage. For real. It was a very confusing time for me. Surely you can understand that.

And today, I told V about where that marriage is going. And, again, she was not surprised.

I was, apparently, the last to know.

Except for you. I think that since you loved me so much, you couldn't imagine why my husband would not jump at the chance to get back together with me. Because you would have.

But, he didn't. And he wouldn't.

And I would not have known that if I had not broken up with you.

And, deep down inside, you know that. You do know that.

But I am sad to know that you minimized what we shared to the next woman. It makes sense. Hell, it would have been nicer for me if you had minimized stuff for my benefit. ::shrug::

But then we got to this place...

This place where you are probably seeing red.

I'm not sorry I did what I did, Eric. You should have been the one to tell Cara. And you can tell yourself all you want to that you would have told her, but I think that you knew you never would have. Especially since you chose to be with her again after what you and I shared.

And, I don't know where you are with her. I don't know if you have managed to talk your way back into her heart and into her bed. It wouldn't surprise me. Hell, you spin for a living. And one thing she said to me kind of set off alarm bells in my mind. Made me think that she just might be weak enough to take you back.

Well, I hope that if you guys make it through this that you end up being happy together. And at least you can move forward without secrets and lies between you.

I know you want to hurt me. I know you think I told Cara to hurt you.

That's not why I did it, though. At least, that wasn't the primary reason.

I told her because she deserved to know. And you had knowledge that she absolutely deserved to know. I stand by that. One hundred percent. (It was what I told her the next day. She said she would add it to her list of questions for you. Please tell me you are not so naive that you honestly did not think you should have told her that one thing from the first day.)

I am sorry that I hurt you when I broke up with you.

And I'm sorry if it hurts you to know what happened to the journal. (I kept it from you because I didn't want to hurt you then. I'm admitting it now because I'm angry and you did something to deliberately hurt me, so I'm doing the same back to you. Immature, sure. But I'm mad, too.)

But, Eric. I loved you. And to realize that with such clarity and then to find out that you lied about me and to me? So soon after realizing I would have to grieve for our relationship? When I'm realizing that I am choosing to live without Love? Without Affection? Two gifts that you gave me so freely?

I'm aching here. I'm missing who I used to be when I was with you. I'm missing the man that I thought you were.

You did the wrong thing. And I took that choice away from you because you made the wrong choice. But your mistake wasn't in being with me that night. Your mistake was lying about it. Your mistake was deciding that Cara was more important than I was.

Grownups hurt each other. Grownups make mistakes. But grownups don't go running out and getting completely enmeshed in the next relationship just because they're lonely.

Yes, I broke up with you. Yes, you were lonely, so you went out and found someone new. As you've repeated so often in recent weeks, "We each did what we had to do."

But you know, deep down inside, that if you had only waited... You and I could have had a chance. And you know that you miss me. And you know that you love me. And you know that the love you have for me is not "not that way anymore".

You do know that.

And you can hate me all you want to because it's easier than hating yourself.

But you know, deep down, that you're the one that fucked up. And you can pretend all you want to that you're just upset because you lost Cara (if you even did).

But she did NOT matter to you like you're pretending she does.

You miss being a family. And THAT is why you decided to become one so quickly with her.

You KNOW that you did the wrong thing there. You KNOW that my rules are in place for a reason. And you hate me because I actually follow my rules. And you hate me because you know that I am right. And you know you fucked up.

So, go ahead and blame me all you want. Go ahead and destroy everything I ever gave you. Go ahead and tell everybody that I'm a fucking bitch for telling your girlfriend something I had no right to say.

And, you're right. That was your job. And you failed.

And you hate me because I was the best friend you ever had. I was the one who knew you better than anybody else in your world, including your "best friend", who's known you for years.

But when you're tired of hating me, take a good look in the mirror, Eric.

I would have been that friend. Even if we were never lovers again.

Thank you for turning out to be such a coward. Thank you for serving to remind me to go with my instincts. Because my instincts were spot-on about you. That first time we met, you made it so clear that you didn't really respect me.

And then I dated you for the next five months.

Oh, my god.

What the fuck was I thinking?

Eric, I am sorry you got hurt. I am. Because I did love you.

But I needed to burn our bridge. Because I probably would have ended up getting back together with you down the line. I always said that you and I would work out in ten years.

But maybe now that I've done this thing, you'll still hate me in ten years. And that will keep us from making a huge mistake.

I'm going to learn not to discount what you and I did share when we were in love. Because we were. And we were good together. We boosted each other up and we challenged each other to test our own limits. We shared some amazing memories together.

Thank you again, for being there for me that night when LI did what he did to me. Thank you for holding me and making me feel safe. Thank you for making me smile and for helping me to sleep.

You'll be glad to know that I'm really having trouble with the whole LI thing now. I've scheduled an extra therapy session to help me deal with it. Since you hate me so much, you'll be glad to know that I'm pretty devastated by all of this. Throw in the whole victimization thing, and I'm just a bundle of fucked-up nerves. I'm sure that'll make you feel better.

So, congratulations, Eric. Your goal was to hurt me, and you have succeeded.

I'm not going to hate you, though. Sure, I'm really sad right now. And I wish I could talk to someone that I considered one of my best friends.

And, hey, if you're wasting a bunch of energy on hating me, at least you're thinking about me, right?

I'm going to keep loving you, though. And I'm going to remember that you're not quite the perfect man for me that I thought you were. And I'm going to remember that, yes, we really were "incompatible for dating". But I'm going to remember that there was a time when we weren't. When we were really good together.

Reason, Season, Lifetime, Eric.

I've been walking around with a Euro in my pocket.

Light and Love,

RetroMama

Courage Amidst Cowardice

Clarity.

Several days ago, Eric emailed me. Told me that we should take some time off and then let's work towards navigating a friendship. Because he still wants that. And, man... I do, too. Big-time. There's been a gaping hole in my world since I shoved him so unceremoniously out of it.

But I realize that I have a deal-breaker condition.

And if he already knows that he cannot or will not do this one thing, then let's just call it all off now.

I have been living with the assumption that he has already done that one thing. My sister-cousin insists that he has not and that he will never.

Ah, rose-colored glasses, how you deceive me...

I thought that perhaps I should wait the period of time that he had requested before asking the question.

But that seems silly. Why postpone grief? If we are not going to be able to be friends, why not know that now so I can start moving past it? Or, if we are, then sure, allow me this knowledge so that I have something to hold onto in the meantime. Something to help me keep that hope alive.

I waited a day before sending the email asking the question.

And he has not responded.

Which means I have my answer.

And I'm so angry and sad that he is not brave enough to even tell me. When I asked, point-blank. And said, "don't spare my feelings. Just tell me the truth."

It's just words. Say them.

And then I think back to that last therapy appointment with the husband. When we stood on that sidewalk, both of us, apparently, thinking the same thing. "I want to kiss you."

And I stood my ground. And I was going to take that enormous risk.

And he pulled away from me, turned his back on me, and walked away.

I've done some really scary shit in my world.

I've traveled many miles, across bridges with no hand rails. I've used note cards to tell someone I love him. I decided to be with Eric even though I knew that the possibility was very real that I could end up with a broken heart. I left my husband. I asked him to give us another chance.

But a recent Daily Om entry was something about how the decisions you regret are the ones when you did not risk. Regret comes from not trying.

And these men that I have loved. These men that I DO love.

They are not as brave as I am. And they are unwilling to try. Which means that the day will come when they are the ones with the regrets. Because one word could have changed everything. One kiss could have changed everything.

Fuck cowardice.

Yesterday, I ran into a gal who has been that "right person at the right time" for me in the last several months. She has said the scary stuff at moments when I was, apparently, open to it. And she presented risks to me that I chose to take. I put that ring on my wedding finger because I had mentioned to her my hopes. And she suggested that risk. Which, as we all know, blew up in my face. But I'm so glad I took it. I'm so glad I tried. I'm grateful for the pain I am in now because at least I know.

And, yesterday... When she asked me how things were going... I told her about how things have been progressing (or not) with the husband. And I said, "I broke up with a wonderful man who loved me in order to try... And now it's too late for us..."

And she said this to me: There is someone even more wonderful out there.

That had not actually occurred to me in the last few months. I've been imagining being alone so much that I have not even imagined that, perhaps, there is someone out there who will be that wonderful man who eats sushi, drinks wine, brings me flowers, takes me traveling, calls, emails, etc....

But this man will actually be over his grief in his past relationships. And this man will be brave enough to stand up for ME when faced with a decision in which he has to choose. And this man will be someone to whom I will, eventually, want to introduce my son. And he will love my kid as much as I do. And this man will choose ME. And he will be brave enough to take the risks to say so.

So. Universe. I'm upping the ante. I have added to my list of Requirements. Read it, and understand that it's just a minimum list of Requirements.

THIS OR BETTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That said, I'm still gonna grieve this latest bit of clarity about Eric. And I've got a long road ahead of me when it comes to the grieving over the husband. And I'm not going to sit here and say that I'm all zen about it. That letter to "Cara" is still saved. I'm not saying that if I continue to get silence from Eric that I won't go all psychotic bitch on him. (What? I'm nothing if not honest here!)

I'll get to that "Oh, I wish him Light and Love" place. But even though I've had to come to this conclusion without his help, that doesn't mean that I'm ready to forgive him yet. I will.

But I'm not there yet.

As TF reminded me last weekend... This was the first guy I actually imagined a future with. And I know I broke his heart. (Or at least, that's the story some like to tell me. I think they hope it makes me feel better. Like I mattered at some point, at least, even though I don't anymore.)

But I broke my own, too.

But I remember how Nat told me that it's only when the heart cracks that we can let the Light in.

So, I'm letting the Light in.

But when I'm ready... I'm going to stick with the "THIS OR BETTER" mantra.

Because it's braver not to settle.

Not like the two cowards I have loved.

A stroke of inspiration...

So, there I was... All knotted and upset at Eric.

And a few days after that post, he emailed me and told me his dad had had a major stroke and was in a coma. And he is so grateful for the lessons I'd taught him about gratitude. Because those lessons are what's getting him through this horrific time.

Wow. I felt like such a bitch.

And then came the dilemma. How do I respond? Because every fiber of my being wants to call him, comfort him, be there for him.

::awkward silence::

TF told me to respond via email. Give him my words. Like I would for any other friend.

But any other friend would be getting phone calls, offers of help. And a friend that lives barely a block away would certainly be getting some kind of care package left on his doorstep.

So, I fought my instincts. Sent the email. And it just didn't feel right. But I gave myself some time. Hoped that unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach would go away.

But the next day, I saw something at Trader Joe's that I knew he would love. So, I bought it... Left it on his doorstep with an unsigned note.

A day later, I got this amazing email from him. Thanking me. Again, with the gratitude. And I felt better about it.

Of course, a few days later, I wrote again. Sending Light and Love and shit. And it opened up some communication. Just via email. But I know what it's like to watch a parent die. It sucks. And if you haven't been there, there is NO WAY you can possibly understand. How could I fight who I am just because of who he is?

I came to this conclusion: I have to be who I am. If he chooses to misinterpret my empathies, that's really on him. I can't control his reactions. But I can control whether or not I am true to myself.

So, I continued to reach out.

Until the day I got an email where he told me that his dad had made a miraculous recovery. A week after being given last rites, he woke up. But Eric didn't tell me for two days. And that kind of fucking sucks. While he was sending me these amazingly thoughtful emails, surely he could have found 90 seconds somewhere within those 48 hours in which he could have told me that things were looking up. But, no... He strung me along.

And while I'm angry and feel used, I'm still okay with who I was and what I offered throughout the ordeal.

Moving on.

The husband and I went to our first session with the marriage counselor. That was fun. (heavy on the sarcasm) I couldn't stand her. He couldn't either. She certainly didn't seem to like either one of us. But the first thing he said was "I didn't like her, but I'll give her another chance. I'll go again."

The man won't hold my hand when I'm crying because he "doesn't want to get my hopes up". Doesn't want me to read anything into that. But he wants to go back to the therapist. Am I not supposed to read anything into that?

We had a long talk the night after therapy. I swear, I need to invest in Kleenex or something along those lines. I told him what I told myself: Do what feels right to you. If I choose to misinterpret something, that's on me.... He disagreed with that statement. Says I'll end up crying at him later. He's probably right about that. Damn, that guy really does know me. Or rather, he did. I'm a bit different than I was three years ago, that's for sure.

He's asking me for time. And right now, I can give that. I don't know how long I can. But today, I'm okay with that.

The other night, I took the kidlet out to dinner. And as we walked and enjoyed the spectacular scenery of our town, we happened upon a man who was looking at the same sights we were. We shared a nice conversation. He asked me, "So, is it just mom and son? Or Mom, Dad, and Son?"

I looked at my boy and said, "Both?"

The stranger ended up offering his card. And as the kidlet and I walked away, I tossed it in the trash.

Apparently, I'm not open to any other attractive men right now for anything more than conversation.

Trying out this faithful thing, apparently.

One Year.

One year ago this weekend.

The weekend that changed everything.

The night before Mother's Day, I wrote two emails.

One to Cinderella. Asking her to please respect me and stop talking about me. To stop reading my blog. To stop contacting me.

She has respected none of that. My last blog entry was full of lies. I was setting the tone to start making stuff up to draw her out. To force her to admit that our "mutual friend" is named Blogger.

But then I decided that she simply doesn't matter enough.

The other to the one who was about to make what I thought was a huge mistake.

The next morning dawned, and the kidlet and I prepared for Ari's arrival. I would be cooking up breakfast and we would be celebrating together. Two kids in the "We have Dead Jewish Mothers Club".

And there I was all zen and happy to share that special day with her.

And she brought drama to my home.

I remember being glad to see her go.

This year has been different.

This weekend, I truly believe that I have been in a place where I am just glad. Glad to be the mom to the kidlet that I am. Things have been pretty amazing in this last year.

I haven't been dreading tomorrow like I have for the past several years.

Yeah, okay, I don't have a mom anymore, and that's sad, but I'm truly, truly grateful for my son.

Yeah, okay, that last pregnancy ended in a miscarriage and that was pretty traumatic. But I'm truly, truly grateful for my son.

And, yeah, okay. I used to spend Mother's Day with my mother-in-law and my husband's family. And while I did ask the Ex if we could all do lunch together tomorrow, he preferred not to. And that sucks even more when the kidlet asks why he doesn't get to see his grandma tomorrow.

This evening as we walked to the ice cream shop, he said, "I guess Grandma doesn't know the secret." I asked what to which secret he was referring."

"That even though we're not married anymore, we can still love each other and be a family."

That's the secret. The one *I* taught him.

And while it is kinda sad that his grandparents (and aunt and uncle and cousins, I suppose!) don't know that secret, I'm so glad that my little boy DOES.

And I hope that on the eve of this day when we are to celebrate mothers, that maybe... Just maybe... Someone new will learn that secret.

And that even though there are those who will be spending their first Mother's Day thinking about a mom they lost this year, I hope that they can find some joy in it.

Me? I'll be grateful for the day I'll get to spend with that amazing little man.

And I'll be sending some extra Light and Love to those who will need it. Especially my favorite soldier who lost his mom earlier this year. And even to Ari. While I'm glad not to spend time with her tomorrow, I'll never forget how she picked me up off of that dirty sidewalk two years ago. After sitting with me, first.