The Blog of littleduckie

I ran across an interesting quote today from Marianne Williamson: "Love is giving without remembering.  Receiving without forgetting."  Okay.  Sounds pretty good -- unselfish giving, gratitude.  But that's exactly the kind of thing that got me into that awful situation with monsieur.  I gave a lot, without putting any limits on it, or keeping a tally sheet, or asking for much back.  So naturally, monsieur took and took until I had no more to give, and then he had, apparently, no further use for me.  On the day I moved out, I was still giving him things, and he was still taking them -- even my car.  I actually signed my car over to him because I didn't want him to be stranded at the apartment after I wasn't there to drive him around anymore.  He didn't seem to have the same concern about me being stranded at my dad's house.

One thing I've learned, but apparently haven't put into practice, is that there is a difference between being unselfish and selflessness.  I gave as unselfishly as I could in that relationship, and intuitively, I think I knew that I had to, because that's why he was with me, for whatever he could get out of me.  In trying to meet his needs and satisfy his whims and above all, get him to stay with me, I almost crossed that line into selflessness -- which can't be healthy, no matter what the gurus tell us.  There must be a balance.  It would have been reasonable of me to insist that he had as much to offer me as I had to offer him.  It would have been reasonable of me to insist on my own needs being met in a relationship between two adults.  I wasn't put on this earth to serve him as if he were my superior, and I nothing but an accessory to his life.

My vision of our relationship was of the two of us unselfishly serving each other, helping each other toward our goals and dreams.  At least, that was my vision on a conscious level.  Somewhere deeper down, I knew it wasn't going to work out that way, and for some reason, I was okay with that for a long time.  I gave so much of myself that when the relationship ended, I really had trouble finding enough of myself to feel like I had a reason to go on living!  I felt like there was nothing left of me.

Fortunately, there was a solid core of common sense somewhere inside me that knew I was being cheated, some part of me that was not content to live as someone else's servant, but knew that it was wrong.  I still had enough self-esteem to cry nearly every night for at least two months before the end, because some part of me knew that this was unfair. 

That core is growing stronger now, after five weeks apart.  I've had a couple of days this week when I could almost imagine being happy and whole again without him.  Up till now, my primary focus was on doing whatever it took to get him back.  But now, I'm starting to remember who I am and what I wanted before this two-year interruption.  I do still wish he could overcome the things that made our relationship unworkable, because I do believe that underneath all the craziness, there was real love between us.  But that may never happen, and I'm beginning to believe I'll be okay if it doesn't.