So, it’s been like, a week and a half since my last post that had mostly to do with Trent.  Good for me(!?)  I’m not quite sure.  But the other day he and I had quite a conversation that helped me immensely.

My therapist suggested very early on in our sessions that I talk to him to get closure.  My mentor didn’t think talking to him directly was a good idea (my emotions were kind of  all over the place), so I wrote him a letter, and it was ok, but didn’t feel much like closure.  He and I started talking friendly-like a few weeks ago, but there was always undertones of uber-politeness and a formality and guardedness that had never entered our conversations prior to the break up.

The other day my mentor told me something in response to a question I asked her: Picture1

screenshot_20180825-114207_samsung-experience-home.jpg

She thought Trent had told me what his counselor said during his divorce and that we had decided to go for it anyway.  He had not.  I was angry.  Livid, actually.  I felt a renewed stab of hurt, grief, and like I had been tricked and used.  In that frame of mind I texted him: “How could you?”  The conversation actually went uphill from there, even though I felt like calling Trent all the names I had told other people not call him since he broke off our relationship (I didn’t call him any names).  I wanted Trent to suffer like I have suffered the past two months.  But God whispered in my ear “He has.  He knows what feeling tricked and used and abandoned is like.”  Guided by that still small voice, I did not lash out like I wanted to.  I asked questions.  And he gave me honest answers.  We talked through some of the hurts and feelings on his side that led to him making that final call.  I apologized again.  He apologized again.  We agreed about what broke us up.  I was texting with both him and my mentor and at one point they were talking about the same thing (a stomachache) at the exact same time in very different contexts and I found that funny, so I shared that with him and we both laughed about it (I think.  I’m in South Dakota and he’s in Indiana but he did type “lol” [but I’ve watched him type “lol” before when he was very much not loling, so…]).  I told him he did the right thing, and I truly meant it.  He said he was sorry that it was the right thing.  I thanked him for talking with me and told him that he had lightened my heart, because he really did.  We went back to lighter topics then, but there was a freedom and a peace about our conversing that hasn’t been there for many months.

I completely agree that we rushed our relationship and that it was the wrong time for us.  I ended the “serious” portion of our conversation by saying that I was still torn about if we were the wrong people for each other.  I said more prayer is needed.  My mentor thinks we’re still very right for each other, and I kind of agree and disagree.

We were the wrong people for each other at the time.  With my depression I was not the right person for Trent or anybody else.  With his fear he was not the right person for me or anybody else.  Now?  I don’t know yet.  And I’m okay with that.

If you’re in a relationship with someone have you ever compared yourself to a tv couple?  We did.  We were Monica and Chandler.  And Marshall and Lily.  But lately I think we identified much more with this famous couple:

Stop laughing!  This is serious stuff!  And it’s almost like a soap opera – I mean, you keep coming back to see what’s going to happen next, don’t you?!?  (I have a super judgy face on right now, but since I’m the lead actress in this soap I really need to change my expression.)

So yes, putting our little saga into the context of this classic masterpiece, Trent is Bill.  Trent has big aspirations to go into the world and do noble things for the good of all, but I can’t come because I’m lacking in some area (let’s say serotonin levels in my brain).

I’m Barbara.  I want to go to the ball (i.e. get married) although I’m also wanting to go into the world and do noble things for the good of all too.  I just want to go to the ball first.  And I want to go with Bill, I mean, Trent.  So I learn French, I mean, get help for my depression (although I really am learning French on DuoLingo!).  But then I find out that Bill can’t dance (i.e. Trent’s fear of marriage, with good reason).  So then I freak out.

Fine, it’s not an exact metaphor, but it’s been stuck in my head all morning, so I figured I’d share it with you.  I feel like now we’re at the point where the narrator is saying: “This has been Silly Songs with Larry.  Tune in next time to hear Bill say…”

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Posted by:anessamarie

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