Morning Clarity

I can admit it now. I don't feel like I can do it all by myself. So I asked for help, of the wrong person. He wasn't obligated to help me, it's true. I had only walked with him through one of the roughest patches in his life. I didn't do that for a tangible reward. I wanted, not things, but him. I thought we were building a history of support. My support for him. His support for me. But it was a turn taking exercise he failed. I took my turn, then waited expectantly for him to take his. Only he never did. We weathered the worst of his storms and it was as if he blamed me for being soaked in rainwater and windblown. I was blamed for knowing his secrets. He wanted a shiny new girlfriend, one who didn't know him at his worst. Stupidly, I just loved him more because, knowing his worst, I knew what he was strong enough to survive.
Enough of that. Aren't you tired of hearing the thoughts that rattle around in my head? The good news. At some point this week, I felt a burden lift in my heart. It was like a scab fell away, revealing healed flesh. I think anyone who's ever lost something important to them (and that would be most everyone) can relate to the time when they realized they must live without it. It takes a little time afterwards to realize they CAN live without it. I think that's what happened driving home this week.
Before it ended, he had become someone I could discuss anything with. And I thought it was the same for him, though it was clear in time that his "Code of the Old West" was a crock of shit when it came to women. But his counsel was solid. His insights were calming and helpful. My mind tells me I could have that back, if I could get over the other bits and accept the platonic in "platonic friendship."
But you know something? I can't. That's some morning clarity. I made a declaration in my mind years ago. I saw this person, and I declared that he'd never be alone, that I'd love him unconditionally. And as much pain as this decision has caused me, I will always love him unconditionally. Well, except for this one part. I can't pretend to be his buddy. I really tried to do it. People who let the world happen to them may not understand why I can't. They are much more generous than I am, perhaps. But here's something to realize. If I had lived closer to him at the time he was in his crisis, we would be together now. And it would have taken years for me to realize that, while I chose him specifically, he chose me only BECAUSE I had been close. It would have taken me years to realize that he would have chosen almost anyone who fit that description.
And there I'd be, trapped. Probably living with a man who'd settled for me because I dropped in his lap like an overripe fig. And each time I couldn't convince myself that "settling" was okay, I'd hate myself, or him. Hey, he didn't purposely choose me, but that's how he is with everything, why worry about it?
Yeah. I'd hate it. And I'd hate myself for accepting it. I'd wonder why I was too weak to leave. And we'd struggle. And I'd badmouth him when we were out together, because it's better to act like you don't care.
Yes. I CAN live without that.
That's my morning clarity. But I'm wasting it on revelations, it's time to spend it on spring planting. Have a great weekend, everyone. I'm going outside.

--Laura