Wednesday, October 19, 2011


Fella and I attended a wedding last weekend. It was quite the event- on the Hudson River in New York City, four course seated dinner, beautiful flowers... but what struck me was the ceremony.  The couple had written the entire ceremony themselves, and though I had never met either of them before that weekend, by the end of the night I felt I knew them well because they were able to incorporate so many personal elements.  One thing was quite remarkably clear-- these two were madly in love.  Madly in love, in that maybe I should write this down because I don't want to ever forget a single word that comes out of his brilliant mouth sort of way.  Can't keep our hands off each other sort of way.  The world stops when she walks through the door sort of way. Want to voice every thought and feeling we ever have sort of way.  It was lovely, and sweet, and really very moving.

I started thinking, naturally, about the wedding Fella and I will have. About our relationship.  And about how I feel like I am not capable of THAT kind of feeling.  I love Fella, I think he's a really good man. He makes me laugh, he's smart, and he's kind.  And I worry that he's getting the short end of the deal here.  I mean, he thinks I'm all that and a bag of chips, so he's pleased with this arrangement, don't get me wrong.  But am I depriving him of that kind of relationship?  His childhood friend just married a woman that looked at him like he hung the moon up in the sky just for her... But Fella gets a woman that looks at him with cautious optimism.  Because I'm broken.

I used to be that girl. I was wide open- honest and naked and completely and totally vulnerable. We all know that didn't turn out so well, and I think it's not unreasonable that I'm guarded.  But.

I honestly don't know if the wall will ever come all the way down. I'm not keeping it up on purpose, and I don't keep him a little bit at arm's length consciously, but... It is happening.  I'm protective of my soft places, and I'm a protective of my individual, separate life.   We've discussed this before.

When my phone beeps, if he picks it up and reads the text on the screen before handing me the phone I immediately feel a bit violated. Not because there is anything in that text that I don't want him to see, but it irks me that he would read it. It's not to him.  I have to remind myself that he just likes to know all about me, it's just his way, he's not trying to control anything. It's not like he's snooping, he's just infinitely curious and wants to know all about me and all the people in my life.  I'm not that way-- self-absorption or self-protection, I don't know, but either one, I'm not all that interested in other people.  I purposefully do not mention any little stories about a friend to him, because he will continue to ask about that friend and that situation forever. I tell myself it's protecting that friend's privacy, but sometimes it's really just because I don't like to share every corner of my life.

What if the wall never comes down? What if he's stuck battling my defense mechanism forever?  What if I'm irreparably broken?


Gayle said...

One thing I think I learned during grief counseling, is that it changes you. You are a changed person. The reason marriages fall apart after a traumatic loss is that you don't necessarily still love the person that your spouse has changed into.

That being said, you know that you have changed and that you are not the same person you were 15 years ago. But he fell in love with THIS person. He will never know the fresh, new Sadie. But he may not have liked her. He likes YOU.

I sometimes wish my husband had known me in my first life. If feel like I was a better person then. On the flip side, I know I would have not even given him a second glance during his first life, so I think things worked out for the best. We are the right people for each other now.

Soap Box closed.

The Lady said...

I am sorry you are so my child, but it ain't all bad. I don't know how to tell you to feel any different, because I cannot. But, I am happy and I can make other people happy. Looking at a relationship realistically isn't such a bad deal, it can prevent some of the highs, but it also avoids some of the lows. I love you.

Desert Songbird said...

I think I've commented on this ad nauseum. It's natural that you have doubts and feel broken. I would think it unnatural if you DIDN'T. Having said that, you know how I feel about THOSE kinds of "oh, we're so fabulously in love" kinds of relationship. The "soul mates" thing doesn't work for me. I need someone who loves me, respects me, is loyal to me, and treats me with kindness and equality. I don't need someone who puts me on a pedestal or thinks I'm his "other half" or "soul mate." Those people are bound to be disappointed. I know; I found that time and time again before I found this one. THIS one shares with me a deep and abiding love built on commitment, trust, loyalty, and a whole bunch of other things that aren't "magical" or "ethereal."

secret agent woman said...

I don't know - I think you can't get through the traumas of life and hold onto that dizzying "head over heels" sort of thing. I had it with my first marriage, but I think a more mature love, scars and all, is also a pretty wonderful thing.