Disappointment has a name

This post is likely overdue, but it really speaks to what’s been going on behind the curtain, the mechanical wheels pumping in my head the last few weeks, few months. Kim over at ilaxSTUDIO brought up a good point in one of her posts recently. She mentioned that there’s a lot of stuff going on outside of our blogs that no one knows about. People get a sense of who we are based on what we write or what we choose to share, but often, there are events and experiences happening that we don’t share. I thought that was a beautiful and relevant insight.

In a similar (or identical?) sentiment, there’s a lot going on in my life that I don’t choose to share, even with my closest friends or even someone I’m dating, let alone in my blog. And it’s really hard to have to experience these things and not feel like I can share or that I’ll not have support if I do. This isn’t the place to share those things; though I can say that since the new year, I’ve been struggling with a few family and personal issues and haven’t really wanted to be around anyone, even my best friends. And from the outside, even in the thick of it, nothing looks out of sorts. Isn’t that the perfect picture for what really lies beneath? In fact, when this started (though to this day, still unaware of some of these struggles) there was only one friend I wanted to share time with–my closest friend; and shortly thereafter, we started to date.

Relationships. I’ve had my fair share. Not quite one-handful of significant ones, and a cartload of less significant ones. However, I’ve had very few, if any, relationships that were so significant and at the same time so short that I felt a level of sadness as great as the longer-term significant relationships, when they ended.

This one falls into the short-but-incredibly-significant category. …I feel very betrayed. I feel misled. And, I am sad that I was so in love with him. Really, the first guy in years I have been in love with. It was a love based on a close, close friendship built up over the last year. And that now is gone. I mean, he wants it, still; he wants to be friends; and, he wants me in his life. But it feels so different now and things are more complicated. I can’t.

We had almost every interest in common, corresponding values and morals, we’re both extremely open and outstandingly honest. We talked and communicated. We supported one another in projects and activities and work issues. We had fun. We spent all our time together. There was very little that was incompatible when you look at the big picture. He acknowledges this, but, despite it (and despite no significant fighting or arguments), he felt we were destined to fail romantically, which I still don’t understand, though must respect. I went into that relationship with the misunderstanding that he was certain the relationship could be stronger than the friendship; that he wouldn’t have put the friendship at risk. Both of those assumptions were based on his own dating philosophy. Turns out, neither of those were true with or relevant to me, to us.

It’s weird. We’ve both had profoundly dysfunctional relationships with other people (ironically, for each of us, our last relationships happened almost identically, from length of  time to principles and reasons for the break-up). We meet. We become the best of friends for almost a year. We finally look at each other like, “this it perfect,” and we were off. Amazing. Wonderful on every level. And in the span of an hour one Saturday night, he impetuously and abruptly walked away clarifying later that we are “profoundly incompatible.” (To be fair, his version of this is here.) One hour we were good. The next…history. He said he felt that I disliked him (still confused about this one), that I am an “angry” person (heartily disagree!). No discussion. No expression of concern. No asking what, if anything, was going on for me (all things I would expect from a friend as well). It was simply over. And over as quickly as it began the first night, with a lot of goodness in between.

It just leaves me feeling as though I can have the best relationship ever (because, it was–it beat everything I’ve ever had), the happiest, most fulfilling and functional and wonderful thing with someone who was (or, is) a beautiful person and my best friend. And yet, he can still get up and walk out at the drop of a pin. No notice. No warning. How do I trust what I know? How do I trust that I know someone, that I can believe what they say? Someone I’ve been so intimate and honest with? How do I trust anymore that my best friend & lover isn’t going to just change his mind in one hour’s time and leave? Do I simply keep trusting? I mean, I finally learned the red flags, the signs that someone was or wasn’t interested, the “rules”. I finally started doing right all the things I did wrong in past relationships. And all those rules, those signs, those flags get shattered with this? All those rights essentially get me a broken heart? Really, this happens? I would have at least liked to have done something to show for a break-up–throw something, not be supportive, not communicate, lack chemistry, have a yelling match–something.

He said, “You really are my best friend. I hope we can keep the friendship. I’m sorry.” And then he walked out the door. Just like that. Like we hadn’t mutually enjoyed spending every moment together for weeks (or, months) prior. Like I was someone he was just casually dating or getting to know, whom he’d just met.

How do I trust again? That aside, I am still not convinced I can ever go back to “just being friends.”  Who can do that? Someone who didn’t really love you or want your relationship to begin with?