Dust and Ashes Anyway

I guess I should write an update.

I finally stopped waking up in tears. I don’t feel sad when I wake up. I just cry in my sleep. It’s strange, a little, given how I’ve been able to keep/pull it together in the past week. I can talk about it without getting teary-eyed. I can look at all of it logically without feeling the pain. It’s a good place to be.

I wonder if I’m not handling it properly. Emily told me, a long time ago, after I broke up with Stephanie, that she felt I hadn’t given the breakup enough time before I moved on. I made a lot of explanations, but ultimately I got over it remarkably fast (also: I broke up with her). I figured it was a long time coming, so the pain of leaving didn’t really hurt so much.

But this is different. Every time I get upset, I stop and think of what my father would say in situations like this. Every time I got to my breaking point, while growing up, he told me to suck it up. Be better than that. Whatever emotion "that" was. Whatever frustration "that" was. I think it’s a little fucked up I’m suddenly alright with the love of my life leaving…

While waking up crying.

My manager said he wants me on his team when the two crews break into three. I found it inspiring. He also said he wants me to not disappoint him, obviously. We spent the day with him driving around with me, critiquing me, telling me where I’m screwing up. He was nice about it. I think he’s going overboard. But he’s not aggressive, and he’s a pretty great guy. Beneath his need to be out of trouble/looking good, he’s really quite receptive to kind words.

Coworkers call him Lurch because he has a broad forehead and stands at 6’6". He walks stilted. He’s got some kind of inferiority thing going, too. I get him. He gets me. I guess you could say we bonded. He said a lot of things he shouldn’t have concerning the rest of the crew, his life/world as a manager, etc. But I tend to get everything out of everyone eventually. Without really trying. People want to tell me things. Some people want to tell me everything.

It’s a side of me I show everyone. The side I’ve developed into "fuckedup," I guess. Nobody has time for my emotions. I’ve spent a lot of time on them the past two weeks, but anything more will only feel like some strange kind of masturbation. Bethany calls me a chameleon, beneath everything. All the totems, all the aspects, all the varieties of Chris, she says I’m unquestionably a very accomplished chameleon. It suits me. I stay safe, divulge unimportant parts that are important to everyone else, and keep the kernel safe. Again, maybe that’s why I’m functioning as if a roommate is moving out instead of soaking in self-loathing.

Anyway. I haven’t been dreaming much. Just sleeping, waking, working, sleeping. She signed a lease for Oct 1, yesterday, and she’s talking about selling all her furniture because she needs money. Furniture we just got as gifts 11 months ago. But I understand.

I came to several conclusions. One, she’s a lot stronger in certain areas than I’ve ever seen a person be. Two, perhaps she’s too fucked up to handle a long-term relationship. It’s a maybe, of course. I don’t know for certain. She didn’t know what she wanted. She said she lied to me for four years. I don’t think so. I think she worked really hard to get where we are. I think she gave up a lot more than she wanted, and I think the payoff, in the end, isn’t what she expected.

I understand. I’ve been in heated conversations with family, friends about the whole thing. They say, "how can she do that?" I say, "I get it." I think people want to commiserate and share the pain. All I can do is shrug. Talking about something has never fixed it, for me. People get upset on my behalf, prepare to go to war for me, but the war is over. The loss is there.

I referred to Bethany as "Feral" the other day. She’s one part Feral, two parts civilized. She has a something to her… like a wonderlust. In Legends of the Fall, when Brad Pitt character left, came back, left, and the native american narrator kept calling him a bear. That’s pretty much Bethany, only she doesn’t have long, luscious locks like Brad Pitt. And she’s not a dude.

There’s a depth to her, an animal magnetism that I can’t help but respect. Of all the people I’ve ever met (outside of family), she’s the greatest person to ever walk with me. No matter how I look at it, she’s not okay with me as partner. Either I be stupid and selfish about it (which I really… can’t. I don’t know why. I just don’t have it in me), or I let her go. Mature. Adult.

She’s an incredible person. I’m not saying this with tears in my eyes, or anger, or hurt, or pain, besides the dull ache. I’m already looking forward to the future. I don’t have to work so hard, I don’t have to hold back. I can buy jean shorts again.

And yes, I’m alone. Deep, heart-penetrating fear there. But, perhaps I should face that shit in the eye and finally deal with it. I might be alone for a really long time. And instead of dwelling on her sunset in my life, I focus on all the stuff coming up.

People live in one of six places, I read once: past positive, past negative, present positive, present negative, future positive, future negative. I enjoy the future, I enjoy the past, but I’ve only ever been in the present. And I enjoy it, even though it’s sometimes like walking through hell.

And I don’t dare stop. Nothing here but dust and ashes anyway.