Sunday, October 18, 2015

Worried vs Angry

I've taken a bold step in my subconscious.  He used to be the first thought I had every morning and the last thought I had every night.  He still is, except it isn't thoughts of love and fondness and memories anymore.  It's thoughts of him with her, and how angry I am at him.  No.  Not at him, at his choices.  I must be much more angry at that now that I've got some space to clear my head.  That and his actions.

Why do we get so angry with people we love when they disappoint us? I mean, if we really love them, we shouldn't want to control their actions, nor should we want them to be anything but happy.  And if being with someone else makes them happy, then we need to step aside and walk away.

Which is what I have done with several men in my life that say they love me. 

Curious, isn't it?  The word love.  It can mean so many different things to us.  And we might say it all the time, but it means a different kind of love or different intensity to everyone we say it to.  No love is exactly the same.  You always love someone the most, and that's the person you choose to spend your life with.  Not your children.  Not your best friends.  Now you can argue all you want about loving more than one person, but I will argue back that there is still the one you love the most.  And that is the one you choose.

Remember, you are always doing exactly what you want with your life.  Or you'd change it.  Some of us are martyrs, some of us enjoy the pain and some of us are only happy with conflict because that's how we grew up.  Abused, or surrounded by arguing adults that called their marriage love.  Children get confused and end up choosing what they see.  Almost every time.  Its very difficult to break the pattern of what mommy and daddy show us.  For example, I broke my abuse pattern and didn't abuse my children sexually.  I believe that was easy for me because it wasn't a parent that abused me, but family members.  But I was not able to break the broken home pattern that my mother showed me with her life.  It felt normal to me to have conflict and be the only parent.  It was what I knew.  I wasn't happy unless there was some kind of drama. 

Of course that was the past, now I am completely happy without drama, because I've taken the time to force myself to be alone to heal.  To understand what real happiness is.  To learn to be truly content with my own company and not need anyone else to 'complete' me.  For I am complete.  I am me. 

What I thought I wanted was to love Mr. Practical, and have him be the companion in my life, and be one to him.  With time, his choice has proven the right one for me.  Ironic, isn't it?  That I'm happier without him than he is with her and his life choices?  Then it became Mr. Hopeful that came back into my life and his needs overshadowed my own.  Once again I tried to be someone I wasn't because I loved him.  And I wanted him to be happy.  He gave me every reason to believe he wasn't.  Except changing his life.  They both did.  Both are still very unhappy with parts of their lives.  Major parts.  Parts that with me would be different.  But I'm not worth choosing.  Not to them.  And while somehow along the way I learned to separate the love of friendship with the love of passionate partners, I can be friends with them both.  But they have to want this too. 

So I wait to see what they will choose.  I don't wait alone, nor do I wait wasting my days anymore hoping they will contact me.  Nor have I done that very unhealthy habit of waiting, since I moved to Chicago.  But I have to admit that when they do, I am happy that our friendship remains. 

My issue now is conquering this anger.  And not letting it burst out upon anyone.  Even the ones I feel deserve it.  Happily I can admit that I'm not angry at Mr. Charisma any longer.  I don't hate him.  I don't think of him at all.  Its an after thought that I even mention him here.  Only as a measuring device.  At least with Mr. Practical and Mr. Hopeful I still care enough to be angry or worried or happy.  And I must admit that I'm not angry at Mr. Practical, worried is more the correct term there.  But Mr. Hopeful, I thought was a stronger man than he has showed me.  And so perhaps I'm angry at myself for not seeing him as who he has become, with time, and the curve balls that life has thrown him.  I'm much more adaptable and when life throws me curve balls I not only hit them out of the park, but once I'm safe at home, I prepare for the next one.