Seeking advice and guidance on rejection, closure and the confusing nature of love ..

[Vermicious Knid]

Although the following text is largely taken from my diary, I think it summarizes some of the issues I've been wrestling with -- I apologize for the length in advance. Much of this was taken from some notes I made in a feeble attempt to record the dream that this deals with, and there are other issues at hand certainly, such as our two children whom I have not seen in 20 years, as that is a topic unto itself.

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The day did not start out well. It wasn’t so much that it was a terrible thing, or that I felt overwhelmingly depressed, like I used to, but still … I definitely was suffering the effects of a dream hangover. Why is it that some dreams are so real, so palpable, so believable that you wake up, tears streaming down your face – because you suddenly waken to the other reality … the REAL reality, and your dream demons laugh hysterically at you? You both dread and yearn to go back to the dreamworld – sometimes it comes back, but never quite the same, and something is lost in the return.

 

It has been over 20 years now … God, how did so much time pass? 20 years, and I can still remember so many little things about her that I thought would have disappeared into the abyss of forgetfulness. The feel of her hair … the small birthmark on the back of her neck … the elegant curve of the small of her back … all these things came back in a rush. And the question keeps rushing at me and demands an answer – could it be that I am still in love with her? How is that possible, after all this time? Or is that I am just in love with the idea or fantasy of what we were or could have been?

 

My pragmatic mind says that this is the most likely explanation – after all, it is not likely that either one of us is the same person we were in our relationship. I know that I’ve changed in many ways, and the very notion that she is the same is ludicrous. But there is something else… something that these dreams keep underlining that I cannot dispel, no matter how hard I try. Why does my heart still ache? Why can I see her so clearly in my mind and in my dreams? Why does she still beckon me? Why would she tell me in my dreams that we will be together again someday – when I feel certain that she would never say such a thing in reality?

 

Perhaps it is simply the lack of closure and the nature of her rejection that brings these feelings on. It is not that I don’t understand why we broke up. There is little doubt that I was a terrible person to live with and even harder to love. I was a child still – we both were, and we were desperately trying to make up for the lack of cohesion and understanding in our own families by starting a family of our own. My then-undiagnosed bipolar depression cycles must have been sheer hell for her, just as they confused and frustrated me. My attempts to be husband, father and provider were mostly dismal failures, and the solace I sought in drugs exacerbated the problem considerably; so much so, in fact, that she was convinced that I was seeing another woman. In reality, I was completely faithful, and although I did flirt occasionally, the thought of having an affair never really entered my mind. Of course, the fact that I lied to cover my tracks when seeking a buzz only made matters worse – much worse. When I couldn’t handle things, I ran away. I didn’t understand then how hurtful that was to her – not even a clue. That night that I fell apart and drove away, I didn’t know that it was the end of us. If I had been a bit older and a bit wiser, I might have realized that as she begged me to stay, holding our baby son in her arms and our daughter at her side. Even though I realized the error of my ways three hours later, as I called her from Michigan City, Indiana, it was too late.

 

Still … the images are so clear. In the dream, everything is so real – right down to the unbearable discomfort of being in the same room with her and her parents. Her parents’ diffidence and ultimate dismissal of me as some sub-creature who barely deserves the air I breathe is tangible and as bitter as boiled thistle. I expect this – in her mother’s mind, I destroyed her little girl’s life. And perhaps I did to some extent.

 

The room is large, and red colors seem to be plentiful. I sit on a couch across from everyone by myself – the accused on the witness stand. Though I am cognizant of being an adult, I feel every bit the guilty child, after having broken some irreplaceable and unbelievably valuable thing. We are in the country – there are verdant fields surrounding the house, and the sound of animals in the distance. A cat nonchalantly strolls by me, as if to say “You don’t live here – go away.” She is dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt and looks … wonderful. I try not to look at her; each time that I do, ethereal knives plunge through my heart and stomach as I resist the urge to swoop her up in my arms and gaze into her eyes …

 

But her eyes … oh God … K.’s eyes. I see the pain … the anger … but … yes, there is love there, still. And my rational mind in my dream says “Yes, M. … this is a fantasy. There is no way she could still love you.” But her eyes … they don’t lie. They never did.

 

We walk and talk a bit. It is a beautiful day outside and I feel a bit more relaxed. It is warm and the sun is shining on the green grass – there are magnificent old deciduous trees all around us. I feel perhaps we might finally make our peace and be able to live our lives. And then … she touches the back of my neck … lightly … not sexually, but tenderly. The tears start … I cannot stop them. I wake up from the dream in a start – crying hysterically. What do I do? How can this be?

 

I want to talk to C. about this – she is in the next room, but I don’t want to wake her. And if I did – what do I tell her? That I just had a dream about possibly still being in love with my ex-wife? That she told me in this dream that we would be together again some day? C. doesn’t deserve that and I couldn’t do that to her. But … the questions surface again. Do I still love K.? How can that be? And even if I do, there just isn’t any possibility that she still loves me. Or … is there?

 

And C. … poor C.. I’m sure that she loves me, but that much of her ability to express that love is frozen in her fear of rejection. I suppose we share that in common – and I’m sure that she must have some idea of my confusion over these feelings for K. I have tried to minimize expressing these things around her, because that drives her further away … but these feelings are getting stronger and stronger. I need to resolve them somehow … in some way. I think that some of this is due to finally being on medication and being able to see these things with a bit of a clearer mind – or at least one that isn’t bent on self-destruction as the penance for all sins, past, present and future. I also think this is why they are manifesting themselves so strongly in my dreams.

 

The conundrum is more complex than that, however. Again, the rational and literate side of my mind realizes that dreams often reflect unresolved issues or desires, if you subscribe to the most common and Freudian of interpretations. But I also believe in the power of dreams as communication from something other than ourselves – be it the collective consciousness, a spirit guide or directed magic. Is someone or something trying to impart a message to me? Or is the message simply that I miss what I lost?

 

I know that the latter is certainly true. Whether or not there is more to the picture than that still remains to be seen. I also know that much of my dilemma would be easier to resolve if I felt the same way about C. that I did (or that I think I did) about K. I want to feel that way – but it won’t come. I do love C., but not in the same terribly wonderful breathless heart-pounding sense of two into one. I remember that feeling so well – the fabled feeling of losing yourself in the other person. I had it once. Perhaps that is all we get in this life and if we’re not clever enough, or wise enough, or honest enough, it is lost. Forever.

[Arabess]

VK,

Regardless of time and space.....we can hang onto a lost dream forever. As romantic as it seems.....all it really does is rob us of any future 'love'. The past can't consume you.....nor should it. Twenty years is a long time. What you remember....and what may actually be reality.....could be few and far between.