Wishbone

Maybe it's just an American thing. I don't know. But, the wishbone of a bird (say, a Thanksgiving turkey) is a symbol of luck. Two people pull on the wishbone after making a wish, and when it breaks, the person holding the larger part of the bone gets their wish (and that's also where we get the term "lucky break"). It seems like a silly superstition. I remember doing it as a kid. There are actually a lot of superstitions surrounding the wishbone if you care to do a little research. But for many years, it only meant one thing to me. 

My ex. She wore a wishbone necklace. It's supposed to be good luck. She did get a lot of compliments on it. And her curly hair. She also wore cranberry essential oil each day for many years. Besides those things, she was pretty much a disaster.

She wasn't a good luck charm for me. But I did consider her my best friend for many years. I think losing a friend was about the hardest part of my divorce. Let's face it; I can't afford to lose friends. But just because I considered her a friend doesn't mean she was a good friend. I have (had?) pretty low standards for people, apparently. And I'm insanely naive and trusting. I'm pretty much a social dumbass, and relationships are something I simply cannot navigate to my benefit.

I let her trample all over me. She got her way with everything. I don't even know what I got out of all of that. Why did I put up with that? Did I just give up? My history of relationships can be boiled down to one word: rejection. Every single one was just a whole lot of rejection. So, in the end, I rejected her. Do I feel good about that? Nah. I feel good I don't have to play daddy to her anymore. I feel good I don't know and don't care who she's with anymore. I feel good I don't care how long she talks to a particular man or what they talk about or how slutty she starts to act or how dirty and uncomfortable that makes me feel.  

When I was talking to God about divorcing my ex before I made that decision and while contemplating my future, the question entered my mind of being alone, forever alone. If I left her, what were the chances I would be alone the rest of my life? As it turns out, the chances are very good. But I digress. I told myself even if I was alone the rest of my life, it would still be better than continuing to live with her. A lot of people are terrified of being alone. I'm pretty much terrified of intimacy because that's where I got the most fucked up. I'm just so tired of being hurt. Really, any relationship can abide a whole lot of hurt and misunderstanding. But, the older you get, the less there is to gain by being with another human being. I can do everything myself. Why do I need another human being in my life? 

While this may sound like so much sour grapes, and perhaps it is, I think we just put too much pressure on our loved ones. Why do we expect them to fulfill so many of our needs? My ex used me to support her fragile self-worth, and I wasn't even enough. She had to constantly seek the attention of other men. And many of them were invited to our house or apartment, sometimes when I wasn't even there. And she had to steal all of my friends, too, as if that wasn't enough. For her, every friendship was a threat to be neutralized. She talked about men at work like she was on a merry-go-round of crushes. I still remember so many of their names. There was always someone. Endless someones. There were guys from IRC. Guys on TV. Guys in movies. Childhood friends. Neighbors. She was a very friendly girl. Very friendly. That's fine. But after a while, it all looked like infidelity, even if it wasn't. And that's no way to live, my friends. Am I messed up? Yes. I don't expect another human being to take any of my messed-up-ness upon themselves, or to even seek to understand how I got so messed up. That's too much to ask. All we really want is someone to love us in spite of their past or our past. Or our shared past, whatever the case may be. 

We can't expect another human being to fulfill all our needs. My ex knows that now. As for me, my expectation of other human beings is this: they will hurt me and take from me and then reject me. I'm bad at protecting myself. I look out for other people. That's always been my job, which is a tough job for a last-born child, if you know anything about last-borns. Still, I've never extended that same protection to myself. 

What is the point of this post? I don't know. What is the point of this blog? What is the point of my pointless life? Why does baseball exist? Why are tacos so delicious? Why does my son watch General Hospital at his babysitter's house? There is no point to any of it. Life sucks. Relationships are terrifying and then they end. And then you die, but hopefully after you have some kids so they can experience the same bullshit ride you did. Haha. No, it's about learning from mistakes. Learning what works for you. I don't have to drink like I'm on skid row anymore just to make it through my day. I don't have to shield myself from those around me anymore. Everything is forgiven. Everything will eventually be forgotten, and if it isn't, then it may as well be. All I know is there is no point in suffering in a relationship forever. Leave that shit. Get out. Don't go down with the proverbial ship. Life is too short to suffer needlessly. And I'm not talking to anyone but myself. Can you imagine the choice between staying in a relationship you hated and being alone the rest of your life and still choosing the latter? How bad was that relationship, I mean, c'mon. Holy shit, why did I stay so long?  

Though I have closed the case file on my relationship with my ex (does that make it sound like a crime scene; if so, that is intentional), there are themes I still wrestle with, such as why did it take me so long? Why did I give so completely for so long? The other day my son and I were at the beach (before it turned cold), and he wanted to play with some kids who were maybe a little older than him. They were with two douchey-looking, aging frat-boy types who were blasting some dance music. He repeatedly went over to ask them to play with him or if he could play with them. I could tell these kids were gonna say no, and they did. Repeatedly. But he kept trying. But, afterward, I said (but not in these exact words), don't bother with people who won't meet you halfway, who can't reciprocate or won't. And there, in a nutshell, is the lesson I should have learned all those years ago. 

How do you rewire your brain after being in a toxic relationship? How do you change your expectations and keep them reasonable? Well, if you're me, you don't. You just fucking give up and sit down in your own filth and mess and it doesn't matter. You don't get up and brush yourself off again. You push everyone away and then you sit in the silence and stillness and breathe deeply, perhaps for the first time in your life, and feel life returning to your lungs, filling you with peace and everything else your bad relationships took from you. You remind yourself you were fine before her, and you'll be fine again. You'll survive this day and every day after it, and you will succumb like everyone who came before you and return to the earth you came from. We make life too hard. It's not hard at all. Enjoy the sunshine. Keep yourself clean from the world. Find peace each day. Love fiercely whoever lets you. And whatever tries to harm you, get rid of it. Throw it beyond the sky so it will never come back. Mistakes will be made, but after you've learned all you can from them, leave them in the dirt and walk away. Above all, love God, and the rest will fall into place. 

Relationships are equally easy. We make them hard. Just treat that person as a friend — how we presumably want to be treated. If you don't want someone doing that to you, don't do that shit to them. If you're not being treated like a friend, walk away. What's hard about that? Nothing. There, simplified that for all y'all. You're welcome. 

If I'm ever in another relationship, I don't think any woman will ever love me back the way I love her. There will always be inequality. Either she will love me more or I will love her more. That's fine. I won't measure reciprocity, and I never did. But, I won't stand for infidelity. I cannot stomach it. I cannot even watch a show or a movie with that theme in it. It turns my stomach. It's a storyline I lived most of my life. Yes, someday (soon, hopefully) I'll heal and won't be so sensitive to all of that, but in the meantime, I'll change the show. Or just turn the damn thing off. Much like I did with my marriage. 

I do hope to be a role model for my son someday. I want to show him how to treat a woman, but my relationships have been so bad, I think I'll spare him. And myself. While this post may seem a little rage-y, this is a safe place for me to vent. My worst emotions end up here. As well as some of my best intentions. 

Someday, maybe, I'll write another love story. With a great ending. I may be scarred. I may be beaten up. My heart may not know how to love again and may not even want to try. But I deserve something good. Someday. Until my dying breath, I'll be pulling for my someday. And I won't need any good-luck charm. Just a good girl. And one last try.