I surrender

I’d like to believe that the Universal Energy force that some call God, others physics and I’ve called Grandma since I was 3 years old, has always protected me from harm. I’d like to think it guided me away from Skype and ultimately, communicating with Beck, these last two-three days. As if it knew Beck had already made the moves towards seeing someone else and wanted to rub my face in it for his own pleasure/amusement. If I were a more paranoid person, I’d say that he intended to/already cheated on me when I saw him on July 4th and found proof when I used his laptop. He told me he was only acting out on a fantasy but if that were true, why hide/omit the communications and profiles he’d already set up on dating sites?

My heart cracked when Beck asked me to meet up just to fuck. I told him it would mess my shit up and I’d hate myself the next morning; not because the sex might be terrible but because I would have let him use me. He proceeds to tell me that he’s been looking for NSA sex on Craigslist and probably the same website I saw opened up on his laptop, but it was taking longer than he liked so he fell back on me. Why do I love such a malicious person? I wish I had been smart enough to disengage my Skype account/app so that it wouldn’t sign me in and leave me vulnerable to Beck. At least he was smart enough to see how “it would be the final nail in the coffin” (his words) if he found a piece of ass when there’s still a glimmer of a chance we could still work things out and be together. The force that is universal love kept me away from my laptop (helping my family with issues/being called in early for work and being too tired once I sat down on my glider) for two days knowing what was waiting in the messages for me. I signed in when I felt strong enough and had time to see what Beck wrote. Two days ago I would have shattered and today, my heart simply cracked open enough for me to release my pain. I surrender to the universe, my grandma: I’ll stop fighting and trying to control that which I cannot, I’ll stop pretending to be indifferent to hurt.  I admit I’m still so in love with someone who doesn’t love me and that I have to let him go: he’s mine no longer. I give in and I’m asking for help and courage and strength to walk away because if I still had it my way, I’d still be trying to save us and I’d refuse to throw in the towel.

I’m yours and I don’t begrudge your laughter over the plans I had for me and him. When I began job searching again, you handed over a tough case that continues to test me. I recall Beck observing how the structure of time and money being something that I need in my life. The everyday humdrum routine of set hours, whether it be for classes or work, would provide stability by forcing my body to obey scheduled sleep times/circadian rhythms. He was right and it still surprises me that he can’t see the same truth applied to himself. For him, I think the whole “go get a job” thing is easy to espouse to others and more complex to follow through for himself. There’s always an excuse and I’m not one to tell someone what they have to do. Granted, this is the first year he’s ever spent completely unemployed as he finds himself. I’m fine with carrying both of us, money-wise, just as long as I’m not harassed into thinking, doing, eating and being certain ways that are contrary to my nature. Part of my nature is clumsiness that irks him. He thinks it’s the medication and nothing I say will dissuade him: my family would laugh in his face if he ever dared to say it aloud. Just now, I impaled my left foot on a screw that was sticking out of the glider Beck bought for me. It’s falling apart (some would say that it’s flat out done and I would reply it’s a gift I can’t readily give up; even if it has become dangerous) but I continue to use it knowing that an accident is unavoidable since my repairs aren’t enough. No, I’ve never developed spatial awareness though I do try. My children, one at least, will carry this same quirky flaw; I don’t think Beck would tolerate it for long as much as he used to love the idea of a chubby little half-Chinese, half-Albanian girl baby…

I have to stop thinking of babies and marriage. With Beck’s 180, I wonder if he sees/knows something I do not but would benefit from knowing. In my head, I’ve kept my observations on Beck’s relationships with his family and his friends floating around and not quite seeing one common thread: the periods of absence, disconnect spurred by his own inner turmoil. I thought he was like me – a sociable loner looking for the perfect match. I didn’t know he wasn’t completely comfortable in his own skin until a little over a year in. I thought we could walk side-by-side until he came to terms with who he is and then, conquer the world together. I didn’t count on his selfish behavior taking me for granted – I thought he was spiritual enough to know that what goes around, comes around and how we need to be mindful of the pain we inflict on others through our words and actions. How we need to cherish our Earth and the living beings and non-living things on it and no one can make it completely on their own without help. Not babying-type of help but the intangible ones of camaraderie, companionship, love, debates, discussions and soul searching.

Am I a weak fool for hurting even now as I try to write my anguish away? I begin to create something I think Beck would like in a solely asthetic sense and then, I remember the things I made from love that he trashed. Thus, I realize there’s no point to it, just as there’s no point to “yes”-ing him to death because the outcome would still be the same. Why bother to wine and dine a lover in outrageous acts of reconciliation if we already know what the result will be? Why hold back from fear of being too harsh, too blunt with the instrument of truth when there’s no lover to hurt? Too many questions and there’s that tug again: the reminder that I would surrender myself and let go to the will of the Universe. The feeling of going home…