We’ve been together for two years, and while there have been small, hangnail issues, nothing has been as full-blown an altercation.
Then two nights ago, a little over two weeks into this cross country relationship, I learned of his plans to hang out with a sort-of-ex of his on Tuesday. I won’t go into detail, as I want to respect his privacy, but this was a person who had treated him poorly in the past and taken advantage of him.
My husband is a really good person and has made a habit of taking wounded bird types into his life. I admire and generally support him in such endeavors, unless I see one of these people start to take advantage of his kindness. They ravage, they destroy, and they are selfish. My husband wants to help them.
Maybe that’s why I appealed to him as he learned of my past. There aren’t many sadder, unbelievable stories of childhood than that of mine and my brother’s. We are resilient and fairly adaptive, highly secretive of the darker elements of how we were raised. Horror stories of neglect become light hearted anecdotal chuckles when I mention them in passing because now that I am far removed in time they just seem absurd and interesting pieces to share.
I’m a regular Horatio Alger, a broken bird whose wing has healed, but didn’t set right because no one picked me up and took me to get proper care. While I can fly like all the other birds, my form is crooked, which allows for many possibilities of interpretation. People that value originality, often those carrying their own damage, befriend me and we form our own band of successful, happy misfits. However, unlike some of the birds he has pursued in the past, we are kind and compassionate.
While I strive to do good myself, because of the neglect I’ve experienced in my life, I am less forgiving of people that have wronged me. While he is a believer in the good and greater good in every person, I believe in the seed of evil that lies in each member of humanity. In my eyes, even those monastic types still seek..desire; self meditation occurs at the cost instead of using said time in charitable acts.
Jealousy isn’t at stake here. He makes me feel 100% the certain of his love, and I encourage him to hang with two wonderful people in his life – his exes, Araby and Julia. However, this person manipulated him, at a young age, to make some inappropriate choices that should never be asked of a friend. And no matter how much she has changed since this occurred, the act was so sick and disturbing, I don’t know why he wants to maintain a friendship with her, other than his forgiveness factor and hope for this person is much greater than I can fathom with my Old Testament sensibility.
So in hearing his plans to hang with her, I flipped. I never expected to get so angry at something as simple as his saying he was going to get lunch with a person, but it really flicked on a rabid part of me. Self-preservation – of me, of him – does something really strange to you.
When I asked if she had apologized for what she’d done, he replied, “Yes. Among other things.”
It’s awful to make him feel that I abhor him, but I could not speak to him after he tried to defend his choice, saying he just wanted to catch up. I love my boo and trust him to make good decisions now, but I’m glad I met him after he had already stumbled over all these people that didn’t care if they brought him down if that meant they could step on him to get a footlift up. In the end, he did not do them any favors by subjecting himself to such acts. None of these people have gone on to be better people because of his influence. If they got better, they got better on their own – likely learning more from cause and effect – act like an assholes, wind up in jail (in two cases), or get treated like an asshole. So why the persistence amongst the discomfort it causes me?
I’m not innocent of making bad choices. I’ve my own parables to live by:
Don’t stay in a relationship because you fear hurting your partner by leaving him.
Follow your heart, not your head.
Stop dating alcoholics.
To be continued tomorrow…