I’ve been in very complicated melancholy mood that started probably last month.
I’m not really good with, “the holidays,” especially since my alcoholic mother died in 1985. Things didn’t really feel like family anymore.
My dad is now dead too. He died six years after my mom died. By the way, I absolutely hate the euphemisms, “passed,” and “passed away.” NOBODY just passes. They croak, they bite the big one, they push up daisies, they DIE. Death is never easy, not even when it’s imminent from a disease like cancer. I hate sugar coating things. I appreciate honesty; it saves a lot of time and energy.
Cancer is what got my dad-bladder cancer. Everyone in his family died of cancer. That’s why when I first had that condition applied to my own body in early 2019, I freaked out. It was skin cancer. So, I was lucky. Caught early, it’s easy to fix. I’m kind of paranoid because I have alabaster skin and grew up a mile from Florida’s Gulf Coast. I couldn’t even begin to count the number of sunburns I’ve sustained in my lifetime.
I got a little off course here, but not having family and not being close (physically or emotionally) to extended family and living several hours away from my dearest friends always leaves me a little melancholy each year.
My disappointment this year has another source. I’m not going to get into specifics, because he’s very good at what he does for a living and lots of people depend upon his skills. So, I do still have some sympathy for him even though he has caused me extreme disappointment.
I guess, right now I’m venting a little steam until I can really let it out by using this experience in a piece of fiction, with definitely changed names, and possibly, changed careers and job titles.
The short version is this: everybody has probably heard of, or experienced the phenomenon of love or romance finding you when you least expect it. That’s what I thought might be happening. My situation began with a sudden, totally unexpected 20-30 second locked eye gaze, that paralleled nothing I ever experienced before. Not even my ex-husband ever did that with me. And, I was definitely ass over teacups in love with him.
I was completely confused and kept thinking, “What the fuck is happening?” What WAS happening was the door to a closet full of attraction and interest I had toward this guy was being yanked open. I was so unprepared for this. I cursed his name the whole drive home.
I was also confused because I thought he was married. He was, but separated by different states. I can’t divulge too much about the nature of our relationship because I respect the work he does.
Let’s just say that the flirtation continued and I had to guess about the degree of his availability. I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I’ll never do that for any man ever again.
This situation mirrors what one of my close friends experienced with a married guy who was completely in love with her. God, the starry eyed looks I witnessed him giving her. He was unhappy at home. Turned out he was too scared to do what he needed to do to have her in his life. His loss. She’s now happily married to someone who isn’t a chickenshit.
I am pretty damn sure that is what I have going on here. I’m not sure if my guy is completely in love with me, but he has a definite interest. Dilated pupils and body language do not lie. Plus, telling me we should run away together is beyond typical flirting.
And, I am not in the camp that maintains that all men are insatiable flirts, married or otherwise. I have a psych degree. I was a counselor. I still read some academic literature even though I’m not doing psychology as a career. Men are no more likely to frivolously flirt, or be unfaithful than women. In fact, there have been studies that suggested women were more likely to do those things. A true meta-analysis is due on that question.
I also believe happily married people don’t flirt. If it’s, “part of their personality,” well guess what, they ain’t marrying material. I would drop a flirting husband like a hot potato, with no regrets. If two flirting personalities want to marry each other, good for them. Let them live their delusion away from the rest of us.
My guy, the one who initiated this, turned out to be a chicken. He could have just lost interest, but my intuition tells me otherwise. Like using the phrase, “passed away,” The chickenshits never find the right time to leave. There is always an excuse. It’s the holidays, my blue shirts are dirty, it’s Wednesday, my car needs a repair. Whatever. I prefer the just yanking that band aid off method of leaving a relationship. It might hurt like hell for awhile, but in the long run, everyone is happier, Divorce is painful, but in end, it usually proves to be the best solution.
My experience has given me new respect for divorced people. They chose to have the guts to go through something extremely painful and difficult for themselves and their families, and knew it was necessary, and knew it was a deep life lesson. Furthermore, it’s honest. It teaches honesty and that feelings matter and that regrowth happens, and everyone gains from that.
I don’t understand why or how people can stay in unhappy relationships. Does the unhappy person feel as if he or she is doing something noble? I KNOW if I was in such a relationship with a man who was unhappy to the point of wanting out, I would feel insulted by the sham affection, and sham everything else, I would be angry enough to decide I was done and I was getting out.
I am just disappointed to learn that very possibly this intelligent, skilled man, over the age of 49, was flawed in THIS manner, and was too afraid of direct communication.
I know that, in my head, it’s spawned multiple psychology studies.
The other thing that truly causes me the most pain, the most tears (crying now, but I’ll quickly recover) is to know that the most romantic thing to ever happen to me was totally meaningless, in the end.
It was just another sham.