Control, Information, Torture....Why Not Me?
I haven't yet written much about the time that I spend with the Libra family. I spend a fair amount of time with them...dinners, watching tv shows, just hanging out. I know that some of you will see this as completely distasteful, at the least; but since you're not living my life or walking in my shoes, your distaste is not much of a concern to me. No apology for my actions or choices is forthcoming.
Before I get into the actual subject matter for this post, I'm going to fully digress into my past. I'm going to talk about the things I do in an attempt to control the completely uncontrollable, and the strange ways that I try to justify and reconcile the choices that I make.
About a million years ago, actually a little more than a decade ago, my first husband and I separated for a short period of time. A man who wished to remain nameless called me to report that my husband was fucking a girl at work. This wouldn't be the first time I received a call like this. It wouldn't be the first time either that my first husband had cheated on me, but it would be the second to the last. I don't remember even confronting him about it. I just gathered some of my belongings and the kids and rented a place a few miles away.
Within days, he had moved his tramp into OUR house, and tried to hide it from me. He wasn't very good at lying or deceiving me, and I sometimes wished that he had been. After about a month he wanted me back even though she was still living in our house. I told him to get rid of her, and he faltered. I said "What did you do this time...get her pregnant?" His response....eyes to the floor and silence.
Of all the times that he had cheated on me, I hung on to the fact that I was the one that bore his children. Just me. Only me. Now....game over. It was quite a crushing blow for me. He didn't know what to do, didn't know how to handle it. He didn't want to continue his relationship with her, but was upset at the thought of his child growing up and not knowing him.
This is where the control fanatic in me kicked in. "We can handle this. If you want to be a part of this child's life, then we'll make it happen." He promised like so many other times that he would be faithful. He said that he loved me. He said that he wanted to be with me. He said that he missed the kids. Any sense of self-preservation or anger that I felt...wait....I had no sense of self-preservation or anger. I just took him back. He kicked her out, and the kids and I went home.
I don't remember much about the rest of that year, except the depression that slowly crept in. Any sense of happiness, security, peace or confidence that I was cherished just eroded away until I was barely functional. My husband changed his mind about being involved in his child's life and stopped speaking to Ms. Tramp. It was a very confusing time. What an understatement!
When Fall came, my husband's best friend who was also friends with Ms. Tramp called to let my husband know that his son had been born. My husband didn't go to the hospital, but I, determined to torture and punish myself, did go to the hospital. I even took gifts!! I knew that she had nothing, and why should a baby go without because his mother is fucking whore. (Oops, did I type that?) Now, I know that some will say that all babies look the same, but that baby boy looked like a combination of my two youngest children. I remember staring at him as if his very existence was some message that I had done something wrong, not done something right, and deserved to be punished.
After she took the baby home to her mother's, I would go there on my lunch hour and take diapers and formula and clothes. I took her on errands. I took her shopping. It became obvious to me FINALLY that she was just letting me come around because she wanted money. Imagine that!! When the baby was about three months old, I gracefully made my exit.
When my family and friends heard what I had been doing, oh how they praised me. Praised me for being so selfless, so gracious, so kind. They didn't know that it was none of the above. It was all about control, information, and torture. It was about me trying to exert control over something that was completely and totally out of my hands. It was about me trying to stay informed. It was about me trying to find answers to questions, answers that I really didn't want to know. What did this girl have that I didn't have? How was this girl going to continue disrupting my life? How would I ever tell my children about this? When would I tell my children about this? What was wrong with me? Why couldn't he just love me? I didn't want to be left in the dark, and I didn't trust anyone to tell me the truth. It wasn't a good thing, not even for a moment. It took me a very long time to fully realize what I had done, and what I had done to myself.
I realized at some point that it's okay to have limitations, and to admit that you have them. It would have been completely acceptable for me to have told my husband, "I can't help you with this. You're on your own." It would have been perfectly acceptable for me to never have spoken to Ms. Tramp, to never have layed eyes on her child. A therapist that I went to some time later gave me a very simple thing to practice: Take the pointer fingers of both your hands and draw a little box in the air. Then with a smile, say "that's not my problem". I love that!!
Fast forward to now and me spending time with the Libra family. The situation is very, very different as are my motivations. But, in the end it seems to again be about the same things: control, information, and to some level - torturing myself.
First, the control factor. Basically, I have none. Well, even that's not totally true. I have control over my choices, and actions. I do have the ability to choose not to spend time with their family, but I don't exercise that choice. I think there are several reasons for not exercising that choice. I miss my own family. I miss the days when my children were young. I mourn the fact that my first husband was not present physically and emotionally for my children. I love watching the Libra's with their children. I mourn the fact that I will not ever in my lifetime have the family life that they have. I'm beginning to feel like a parasite soaking up the beauty that I feel in their home.
Second, the information factor. The key piece of information that I get everytime that I spend time with them is this: the Libras are a family, a unit, a team, and I will never be a part of that team, or split the team (don't misunderstand...I would never, ever want to split the team). They treat me like family, which is a blessing and a curse. Spending time with them is an in-my-face, crystal clear,unavoidable reminder, a slap-in-the-face if you will, of what is real, factual and true.
Lastly, the torture factor. This is the factor that I understand the least about, and I often wonder about its meaning, what it means to me, what it says about me: That I would so long to be near Libra, that I would spend those hours in his home with him and his family. Reminding myself of what I cannot have. Not just what I cannot have with Libra, but what I will never have with anyone. And that's not just a fatalist attitude. It's steeped in many real factors: my age, infertility issues, the fact that the only man I want to be with now is with someone else and isn't having more children. So, I push down, squash, squelch, and bury inside me all of the emotions and thoughts that would keep me from Libra even if it means being so near to what will never be actual in my life.
Now to the title of this post "Why Not Me?". It's probably the most selfish question that I can ask. I've been quite selfish for awhile now, so a selfish question is not much of a surprise. Why couldn't I have been in that right place, at that right time to meet Libra? Why not me? I know why not me now. But, why not me then? You know they say there's a reason for everything. The way I'm feeling right now...FUCK whoever "they" are, and fuck the fucking reason whatever the fuck it is.
Finally, back to limitations and admitting to them. I wonder if or at what point this affair will press up to my limitations. If or when will it begin to tax my patience, my want to possess someone, to hurt beyond what I can bear. What pains me the most at this moment is knowing that if I had to press him to make a choice or walk.... I would be walking. It's like... don't ask a question that you don't really want to know the answer to. Don't ask someone to do something that you're not sure they can do for you. Sad but safe. I know that he has limitations, too. If I never ask for more, I'll never have to know whether he just can't give, or if he won't give.
Libra's Mistress
Before I get into the actual subject matter for this post, I'm going to fully digress into my past. I'm going to talk about the things I do in an attempt to control the completely uncontrollable, and the strange ways that I try to justify and reconcile the choices that I make.
About a million years ago, actually a little more than a decade ago, my first husband and I separated for a short period of time. A man who wished to remain nameless called me to report that my husband was fucking a girl at work. This wouldn't be the first time I received a call like this. It wouldn't be the first time either that my first husband had cheated on me, but it would be the second to the last. I don't remember even confronting him about it. I just gathered some of my belongings and the kids and rented a place a few miles away.
Within days, he had moved his tramp into OUR house, and tried to hide it from me. He wasn't very good at lying or deceiving me, and I sometimes wished that he had been. After about a month he wanted me back even though she was still living in our house. I told him to get rid of her, and he faltered. I said "What did you do this time...get her pregnant?" His response....eyes to the floor and silence.
Of all the times that he had cheated on me, I hung on to the fact that I was the one that bore his children. Just me. Only me. Now....game over. It was quite a crushing blow for me. He didn't know what to do, didn't know how to handle it. He didn't want to continue his relationship with her, but was upset at the thought of his child growing up and not knowing him.
This is where the control fanatic in me kicked in. "We can handle this. If you want to be a part of this child's life, then we'll make it happen." He promised like so many other times that he would be faithful. He said that he loved me. He said that he wanted to be with me. He said that he missed the kids. Any sense of self-preservation or anger that I felt...wait....I had no sense of self-preservation or anger. I just took him back. He kicked her out, and the kids and I went home.
I don't remember much about the rest of that year, except the depression that slowly crept in. Any sense of happiness, security, peace or confidence that I was cherished just eroded away until I was barely functional. My husband changed his mind about being involved in his child's life and stopped speaking to Ms. Tramp. It was a very confusing time. What an understatement!
When Fall came, my husband's best friend who was also friends with Ms. Tramp called to let my husband know that his son had been born. My husband didn't go to the hospital, but I, determined to torture and punish myself, did go to the hospital. I even took gifts!! I knew that she had nothing, and why should a baby go without because his mother is fucking whore. (Oops, did I type that?) Now, I know that some will say that all babies look the same, but that baby boy looked like a combination of my two youngest children. I remember staring at him as if his very existence was some message that I had done something wrong, not done something right, and deserved to be punished.
After she took the baby home to her mother's, I would go there on my lunch hour and take diapers and formula and clothes. I took her on errands. I took her shopping. It became obvious to me FINALLY that she was just letting me come around because she wanted money. Imagine that!! When the baby was about three months old, I gracefully made my exit.
When my family and friends heard what I had been doing, oh how they praised me. Praised me for being so selfless, so gracious, so kind. They didn't know that it was none of the above. It was all about control, information, and torture. It was about me trying to exert control over something that was completely and totally out of my hands. It was about me trying to stay informed. It was about me trying to find answers to questions, answers that I really didn't want to know. What did this girl have that I didn't have? How was this girl going to continue disrupting my life? How would I ever tell my children about this? When would I tell my children about this? What was wrong with me? Why couldn't he just love me? I didn't want to be left in the dark, and I didn't trust anyone to tell me the truth. It wasn't a good thing, not even for a moment. It took me a very long time to fully realize what I had done, and what I had done to myself.
I realized at some point that it's okay to have limitations, and to admit that you have them. It would have been completely acceptable for me to have told my husband, "I can't help you with this. You're on your own." It would have been perfectly acceptable for me to never have spoken to Ms. Tramp, to never have layed eyes on her child. A therapist that I went to some time later gave me a very simple thing to practice: Take the pointer fingers of both your hands and draw a little box in the air. Then with a smile, say "that's not my problem". I love that!!
Fast forward to now and me spending time with the Libra family. The situation is very, very different as are my motivations. But, in the end it seems to again be about the same things: control, information, and to some level - torturing myself.
First, the control factor. Basically, I have none. Well, even that's not totally true. I have control over my choices, and actions. I do have the ability to choose not to spend time with their family, but I don't exercise that choice. I think there are several reasons for not exercising that choice. I miss my own family. I miss the days when my children were young. I mourn the fact that my first husband was not present physically and emotionally for my children. I love watching the Libra's with their children. I mourn the fact that I will not ever in my lifetime have the family life that they have. I'm beginning to feel like a parasite soaking up the beauty that I feel in their home.
Second, the information factor. The key piece of information that I get everytime that I spend time with them is this: the Libras are a family, a unit, a team, and I will never be a part of that team, or split the team (don't misunderstand...I would never, ever want to split the team). They treat me like family, which is a blessing and a curse. Spending time with them is an in-my-face, crystal clear,unavoidable reminder, a slap-in-the-face if you will, of what is real, factual and true.
Lastly, the torture factor. This is the factor that I understand the least about, and I often wonder about its meaning, what it means to me, what it says about me: That I would so long to be near Libra, that I would spend those hours in his home with him and his family. Reminding myself of what I cannot have. Not just what I cannot have with Libra, but what I will never have with anyone. And that's not just a fatalist attitude. It's steeped in many real factors: my age, infertility issues, the fact that the only man I want to be with now is with someone else and isn't having more children. So, I push down, squash, squelch, and bury inside me all of the emotions and thoughts that would keep me from Libra even if it means being so near to what will never be actual in my life.
Now to the title of this post "Why Not Me?". It's probably the most selfish question that I can ask. I've been quite selfish for awhile now, so a selfish question is not much of a surprise. Why couldn't I have been in that right place, at that right time to meet Libra? Why not me? I know why not me now. But, why not me then? You know they say there's a reason for everything. The way I'm feeling right now...FUCK whoever "they" are, and fuck the fucking reason whatever the fuck it is.
Finally, back to limitations and admitting to them. I wonder if or at what point this affair will press up to my limitations. If or when will it begin to tax my patience, my want to possess someone, to hurt beyond what I can bear. What pains me the most at this moment is knowing that if I had to press him to make a choice or walk.... I would be walking. It's like... don't ask a question that you don't really want to know the answer to. Don't ask someone to do something that you're not sure they can do for you. Sad but safe. I know that he has limitations, too. If I never ask for more, I'll never have to know whether he just can't give, or if he won't give.
Libra's Mistress
posted by Libra's Mistress | 9:13 PM
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