Closing Circles

Looking back… way back when ‘he who must not be named’ and myself first met and started dating it was intense and we fell in love quickly and deeply, only the way 2 young adults can, and before I knew it we were spending a lot/all of our time together painting weekends away (we were both in art school) and going on holiday, weekends at his folks farm… etc.  We were inseparable.  He had the longest most beautiful hair and a soft, soft nature … towards me.  We were young, beautiful, ambitious and highly creative, drawing together and painting through canvases filled with our fantasies.  We drew symbols and combined art works which represented us – together, till we die.  We even went as far as to seal our love with a blood bond in a sacred, private ceremony as well as binding ourselves together with a small leather band around my finger, symbolizing our intent, to one day get a ring. (I had a few flea market specials before the real deal came around).   We just could not get enough of each other – insatiable – and being apart was the most painful thing ever – like our souls were being tortured.  We moved in together as soon as it was possible – love (which ended up becoming my second name) just had to pay the rent.  Just before we got married (about two years later), I told my father that ‘he who must not be named’ was such a beautiful person inside that it scared me.  Got the idea? I think you do.  All very dramatic, but this set the tone and back drop of my marriage, my happily ever after.

Clearly I had my rose-tinted glasses on, with the added bonus of being young, very young … and fucking stupid to say the least. Looking back, (now that I find myself in the same spot) dancing around the peripheree of our intense whirlwind love, he had an unfinished relationship floating around.  His then girlfriend of two years was still very active in his and his families lives – when we went on holiday a month after we met and the poor girl looked after the family home and I can almost guarantee you that she was blissfully unaware of my bum going with the family for a long 6 week Christmas holiday… two months later came a valentines bunch of flowers and a thick love letter from her trying to make sense of what clearly was unfinished for her, he had relationship trouble and honesty issues beyond my wildest dreams –right from the start.  Sadly this is something I only realize now, even then, he did not bother finishing off anything with respect, properly or appropriately.  When I questioned this 4 months into our relationship, he told me many things about her, dehumanizing her. He spoke of her as being poisonous and horrible and screwing him around – how he was never good enough for her – how she burnt his t-shirts she hated, and on and on.  This relationship was portrayed as so abusive he lost all his creativity and self-esteem and was not inspired at all to work the way he used to. . . OH MY Handbag!  I felt so sorry for him!!!  All this abuse he was put through in this horrid relationship!!

I was going to one up this! I was going to splint this broken little wings, I was going to heal his wounds and honor him for soldiering on in that vicious relationship, trying to make it work.  I was, hands down, completely convinced that he was the victim!  All the stage props neatly set up and in place.   In my defense… ok, maybe not… I did pick up his honesty issues through blatant, stupid lies, but how deep it really went escaped my love-sick neurological moosh, and I swallowed excuses for his lies hook by hook.  I did break up with him a couple of times, to my credit, when I figured out his lies, but (to my discredit) I fell right back into his arms after he clearly and logically explained to me why he lied (using all the stage props he could and produced some more) and swore never to put us at risk like that again.  I believed him – I wanted to, trusted him – I wanted to … I loved him, deeply – I wanted to.

Now why I am writing all this? Besides the obvious, in these last five months (since the arrival of ‘fugly’ and her ‘4 sprogs’ – and me realizing that the same thing he did to his girlfriend before me is the same thing he is doing to me and ‘ol fugly) I have purposefully excavated these memories – these events which, in the scheme of things, hardly paid attention to at the time.  Rehashing them now places a brand new light on who he is and who I am and what the personality of our relationship was.  The exact same thing has happened! I have come full circle! A bit late now, but none the less an epiphany!

My goal is to become conscious, sober and clear thinking of who I am, what I attract and to whom I am attracted, because I will not be returning down this road easily again, and karmically speaking, I want to end off my journey with this human being, totally and completely.   I do not want this human or such a horrible experience in the shape of a rock in my garden, in my next life – I want to be done with this, with him, and however long this must take, is however long it takes. Just like with his previous girlfriend he moved on fast, leaving behind a mess, he did the same to me – the mess is just a wee bit bigger and 2 other feeling beings, we created from our intensity, are left to either accept or not accept – why would he care about their feelings – he is “happy”.

I am realizing a little more every day, that what I am grieving deeply, is my hope for us and my family and a human being who is no longer ‘alive’.  He died small deaths throughout the relationship, lie by lie, in my head, and my husband, the love of my life no longer lingers on this planet – the beauty I knew or imagined I knew, is shelved somewhere in my big library of life experiences and the essence which was he was but a figment of my imagination – a dream I had for a long time. He is hardly a shadow of the man I thought he was or could be. He is no longer a shadow of the man I loved. The fantasy died. The man I now see is a complete stranger. From his beard he now no longer grows in beautiful shapes and shaves – shaved off permanently because Fugly hates facial hair… his three hairs left on the top of his head gelled up like Tin Tin … he is a walking quotation, a copy of the new people in his life – creatively dead…nothing original, his whole being gone or maybe he was like that all along and I simply removed the blinders from my eyes.

Pixling is tying up loose ends – one process at a time.

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