Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Meeting someone like me.

Have you ever not known someone at all and been so jealous of them for no real good reason? No? Maybe it's just me. This person was a total stranger to me. I felt for them and wanted to keep them from harm deep down. Part of me hated myself for wanting what they had. Looking back, it was so stupid.

Yeah, I know, I'm being ambiguous again. So sue me. I'm allowed.

Anyway, back when I was still working through all my hate and anger for my ex, I blogged about the relationship and downfall. Well, crap, you know that, you've been reading. Some people read and got mad. Some people read and were disturbed. Some people read and felt sorry for me. I never thought for a second that the one person I originally wanted to help would be reading.Christy, his girlfriend at the time, had been reading my blog. She had been learning about me and learning about who she was dating. I was just writing to clear my heart and mind of all that had been weighing it down.

When I saw that F's relationship status had changed, I didn't think, "Hey, I have a chance," or "It serves him right; I hope she left him." I thought, "She is probably hurting. I wish she wasn't." After all my jealousy over her, I felt myself crying for a stranger because I knew how alone she felt. I have been told I was wrong for reaching out to Christy after their break-up. I knew in my heart that I would probably lose friends or have people turn on me for it. I didn't think about how it would affect me. I thought about her. I wrote her and told her I was sorry about everything and that if she needed to talk, I was there.

I didn't think for a moment that I would hear anything. I thought I would be called crazy by this stranger that I felt a certain sadness for. She responded and I was stunned. She was stunned I cared. We messaged back and forth that day, and we both happy to have a like mind and heart to talk things though. We spoke that night on the phone at length. We talked about how we were treated behind closed doors. We talked about how we felt. I felt like I had finally found someone that understood what I had dealt with. I was relieved and utterly thankful.

In our own ways, we both believe that God had a reason for us to speak. For us to become friends. Our interests are far apart and varied, but deep down we are very much the same person. We said we would like to meet up one day.

That one day was last Friday. I was in Sumter after a gift for Tim, and I  figured I had a good chance of getting to meet the person that had helped push me over the last few hurdles of getting over F. We agreed to meet at a bar behind the mall.

Honestly, I was terrified. I felt fatter than holy Hell and knew I looked like shit. She wasn't alone. She was with her mother and a friend. My social paranoia set in and held me in it's grips. I'm not a very easy going person around people I don't know and especially other people's parents. I had to keep myself from slipping into nerd mode.

Somehow, my veil of fright slipped as we started talking about our least favorite person. I let myself be catty as all Hell, and it was fun. I remember how he used to admonish me for being catty with Becca. At that moment, as I was taking verbal stabs at him, I felt liberated. I felt like I was with a new friend, and we were enjoying a conversation about something we both agreed on. We experienced a lot of the same troubles, and we found solace in each other's jokes. We were healed by laughter and lifted up by each other's hopeful words.

We have spoken about other things other that F. We have talked about our lives and where our hearts are going. If we are seeing someone. How we are dealing with our emotions now. We talk things out and we listen to each other. We know in small ways how the other one is feeling or how they are thinking. Let me tell you, talking to someone that has experienced a similar relationship with the same partner gives you a whole new insight. Even though we still don't know each other that well, it's almost like we understand each other without really having to change how we look at things with our heart.

I regret nothing. The people that don't speak to me anymore; we weren't really that close. I've made my peace with that. The people that think I am wrong; they are allowed to think what they want. I prayed about it and I did what I felt was right at the time. I got my heart and my mind right and clear. I also gained something out of it that I never thought possible. I gained friendship from a total stranger. I will forever be thankful to Christy for helping me. She and I have helped each other in ways I don't expect people to fully understand.

I know that our situation was weird. That girls don't become friends after getting hurt by the same guy. Not normally. She and I aren't normal young women. We're made of stronger stuff. Somehow, we were meant to get to this point and become friends.

 In a stupid way, I almost thank F for leaving me because I am better off without him. I have found myself and I am happier without him around. In a way, I have a new friend because of him too. Let's not give him any of the credit though.

God works in mysterious ways. He gives us what we need and takes away what we don't. He let me make a new friend and she helped me get rid of my pain.

I don't know where this will all go next, but I know I'm right where I should be.

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

With fingers interlaced.

I always was one of those people that thought hand holding was sort of sweet at times. To see a couple holding hands. Young or old. It's one of the simplest displays of affection and in my opinion, it's one we truly take for granted.

I always knew a relationship was done for when I couldn't get the person I was with to hold my hand. Frank was never one for that with me to begin with. I once made a comment about my fingers being longer than his and ever since then, he wouldn't hold my hand for anything. I hated that I said that, but most of the time, he only touched me when he wanted something. Anyway, I have been with people who I couldn't stand to hold their hand. Scaly hands, wet fish hands. Ugh.

I never realized how much I liked that smallest sign of affection until Tim and I were watching IronMan 2 a couple of weekends ago with Chris and Becca. We were sitting there in the dark and I felt his hand wrap around mine at first. Then, our fingers interlaced. Them, I forgot to pay attention to the movie.

For almost 30 minutes, I sat there, completely bemused and concentrated on our hands. The way he would open his fingers and run his fingers along the sides of mine. The way he'd let just the tips of his fingers dance across my palm and the back of my hand. The act was so innocent and so sexual at the same time. I truly couldn't remember the last time I held hands with someone and felt them there. Sometimes, you hold someone's hand and it's like holding anyone else's hand. This was different. I knew it was Tim holding my hand.

I almost burst into tears at this. There was something so amazing and tender about him just touching my hand and holding it. I was so caught up in that moment that until something on the screen exploded and startled me I forgot I was supposed to be watching a movie.

I started thinking, "Why is this so fascinating to me? We're just holding hands. This is so ordinary." I was standing in the shower the next morning and I was struck with the thought, "It was anything but ordinary." I got out of the shower and watched Tim doze as I towel dried and brushed my hair. I sat down on the bed and he stirred. He looked up at me and touched the side of my face with his slightly rough hand. He took my hand in his and kissed my knuckles. Every time he does that, my heart is a little more healed than it was the time before.

Looking back on past relationships, one in particular as always, I don't remember those actions, that tenderness. I don't remember being shown affection for affection sake. I remember being smothered, held down, forced and ignored. Tim does none of that.

I keep telling myself to live in the moment and to not have any expectations. I really don't. I mean, hell, I haven't even really changed my all important relationship status on Facebook. As if that were the all important barometer of how true and real the relationship really is. We spend Friday and/or Saturday night together. Sometimes we see each other during the week.

We keep it simple. We tell each other, "I like you." We make each other happy by doing something most people don't remember to do in a relationship: we are OURSELVES. I have found more joy within myself by being who I am when I am with him than I ever found by trying to be the thing that my exes tried forcing into molds. I like Tim very much, and that isn't going to change anytime soon. I like who I am, and that isn't going to change either.

I never thought I'd get to say that.

I like who I am.

Is this what true happiness is?