Tuesday, February 20, 2007

The kind of love you never recover from

It's been a full three days since I last saw LM, and I still can't study or write the paper that's due Thursday. And something a friend wrote me resonated.

Nice Jewish Guy has a blog of his own. He and I met through a dating website, although we never went out. I like him because he comments on my blog -- and these days, when I have so few readers, I relish every comment.

So I wrote him to thank him for commenting, and he sent me this:

Sorry to hear you've been down lately.. hope you feel better soon. And for what it's worth -- which is probably not that much right now-- the LM thing will get better. I've been there. I don't know if it ever goes away completely... some relationships just have a way of searing themselves onto your heart forever-- but it definitely gets to a point where you think about the other person, say, once every few weeks or month, and then only briefly.

Which reminded me of a kick-ass Christine Lavin song:

I know a couple
She sits in a rocking chair working puzzles
He watches TV upstairs
She has a secret she has never let out
A man she thinks he never knew about.
She hasn't seen him in 30 years
The mention of his name doesn't brings on tears
If you ask her "Are there any regrets?"
She'll tell you "No"
But she never forgets.

It was The Kind of Love You Never Recover From
Even though she found another one to take his place
She never will escape the truth
At times like this
When the moon is bright
When the air is foggy like it is tonight
She'll think about what might have been
If she had just held on to him.

I don't want to be that woman! I want the person I marry to be THE ONE, the person who makes all these agonizing years of singledom seem worth it -- or seem like a bad dream I awoke from, which steadily recedes in my memory. I do NOT want LM to be the man I never recover from.

And even though we said our good-byes, and he made his indifference clear when we met, I still feel... unfinished. Even though I know it had nothing to do with me -- it was just the place he's in right now.

They say the best cure for an old love is a new love. Gd? I'm waiting.

I heard back from Batya Burd, the women who organizes the davening at the Kotel. She sent me a beautiful picture of the person who davened for me. Facing the Kotel, one hand lightly resting on it. And she wanted to know how I was doing.

Told her I was still single, of course, and she wrote back:

Hang in there... it's only a matter of time, tefillot [prayers] and mitzvot [good deeds]... Gd-willing, soon.

Is He willing? I find that increasingly hard to believe.

I know I should daven again; for a while I was saying tehillim every day, but when the latest depression hit, I just couldn't. I can't daven when I'm morbidly depressed; it just doesn't work. Now that I'm sort of recovered, I know I should -- but again, I can't. I just don't see a cause and effect relationship with my davening. I know that's not how it's supposed to work, but I just can't get myself to focus on the prayers.

And I know my life is better than the life of the average woman in Bangladesh, Saudi Arabia, or Peru. Or a Jewish person who came of age during the Holocaust. But that's not enough comfort.

Well, I better try to write my stupid 3-page paper before I start to bawl and drown my keyboard.
Copyright (c) 2007 "Ayelet Survivor"

2 comments:

  1. From what you have written about LM he wasn't a true 'love'--he was simply there when you were at a vulnerable point. Not a true soul mate. I am sure that once you are distracted--be it by a new love, or by immersing yourself in something fulfilling such as school/internship, the pain will fade. Hang in there.

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  2. Above anon makes a good point. I mentioned that I was in a similar situation with my "rebound relationship"; when that relationship began, I was literally an open wound, and that vulnerability on my part led to my falling in love with someone who wouldn't/couldn't (whatever) commit to me. It may have been love, but it wasn't right. It's difficult for the heart to tell the difference, of course.

    I think we do recover from these loves, but as with any trauma, there can be scars. Some are subtle, and some still ache when the weather is bad... when it's cloudy and gray around us.

    But the sun comes out again!

    BTW, thanks for the link.

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