No puppy at Christmas!

Do you remember the first time that you were disappointed? I cannot. I do remember one year being incredibly disappointed that there was no puppy under the tree for me at Christmas. I had begged and pleaded. I must have been six or seven at the time. That moment, of searching all over under the tree, no puppy in sight, is still strong in my mind. Pure, utter, disappointment.

The last few days have brought new disappointments to heart. It was the phone call that never came. It has been the realization that people aren't always where they say they'll be. It has been the realization that people aren't always who they say they are. Disappointment is usually accompanied by familiar words 'never' 'did not' 'were not' 'not quite'- all words that confirm the lack of something, or at least the subpar.

As I sit here tonight, I can tell that the last few days have weighed more heavily on me than I realized before. Thus the cathartic writing.

Something struck me though as I was in my mental temper tantrum of disappointments- is disappointment really fair? I know, who cares a damn about fair when you're out in the rain? Yet part of my ever present (read, ever annoying!) quest is to make life as fair as possible for myself and those around.

I should be specific but given the open nature of blogging I am hesitant. Let me leave it at the fact that something of significance happened in my life, and the others who are connected with the situation are reacting in a disappointing (you can't be surprised by that word!) manner. I've spent many moments tonight in tears, and many other moments stewing in anger. While it is quite true that I am an emotional person, prone to tears, I am not usually angry...especially not like I have been tonight.

Just as I was formulating my plan for destruction of disappointment bearers I started thinking through what a conversation might sound like. As I started role playing what the other might say in my mind it dawned on me that what might be in response to my accusations, might actually make sense. That while it might not be my mode of operation, or what seems like normal behavior, or even what might be considered courteous in the given situation - it was not me. All I can do is make sure that when I have the control I do my best not to disappoint and hope that if I do, someone will understand, or at least ask me what happened but not launch into a tirade. It wouldn't be fair.

Honestly I am sure that I do not quite believe that. I am sure that being fair would mean everyone was somehow happy and had their expectations met. I am sure that I am not over the disappointment. I am also sure this needs more thought, and especially more time.

Several years after my puppy was not under the tree I started a campaign. I got it in my head that I wanted a dog. My parents, referring back to their original reason for not getting me one, did not feel like I was ready. I also stopped to ask them why they wouldn't let me have one. That information told me that they were, in a way, disappointment with me. I got more information about my weaknesses than I really wanted at that time - but it motivated me. I wrote my parents letters about how responsible I could be. I picked up whatever extra chores I could do prove that my responsibility level was much higher than they gave me credit for. I started walking the neighbors dog. I got books at the library about different types of dogs. I was determined not to be disappointed.

When I woke up I tore through the stacks of presents, along with my equally excited siblings. No puppy. Nothing even resembling a dog. No stuffed animals. No leash with an invisible dog at the end of it. Nothing except more disappointment. Sure I had loads of other presents under the tree - those wouldn't matter. My parents did not seem to notice my tears. Finally my mom, surely sick of my mix of tears and anger, directed me to open my stocking. It was full of dog food and other doggie items, along with a note to look in the box outside.

And there it was, my own wonderful beautiful puppy.

My Dear John

October 2nd 2006

Dear John,

I can hardly believe how fast time has flown. In a few short months we would have celebrated an anniversary together. The ninth. They, whoever they really are, say that time will heal all wounds. I am starting to believe that they never had a wound like this. When we broke up I walked away thinking I knew you. Thinking I knew the situation. The more time has passed the more I feel blindsided by who you really are. I’ve been shaken to the core by these revelations.

It will take me a lot of time to regain my confidence, confidence I feel you stole from me. You may revel in this news. You may gloat that you captured another person and sucked the soul out of her. It’s funny, I guess, because the people I met when you and I first connected all warned me. Many of them said I would give my life to you only to lose it in the end. Many of them said that you would take until there was none left. It’s all true. It seemed somehow exciting at the time. Like giving that much to you would be magical. The torture comes not from their warning but from my delusion that it would, WAS, somehow different for me. We spent all that time together, some good some bad, but each day I thought I was making a difference. Each day I thought that with me, you’d be different. Of course now that it is over I see how blind I was.

The part I feel the most angry about is that fact that I am so angry. I was the one who chose to end our relationship, yet I feel like the one who got abandoned. I feel angry towards the people we shared as friends that no longer are my friends. I feel angry towards the person you are with now, as if they would have been able to change you, or control you. I feel angry with myself for believing that things were different. I feel so angry that I have started to doubt myself. Too many moments have been wasted by me thinking about whether I did things right, or if I could have been better. Too many moments have been wasted crying or swearing or grinding teeth. I’ve wondered so much about the people I thought were my friends when I was with you. Wondered where they are now. The reality is that if they were only with me because of you, they will never be the kind of people I love.

You will never be successful. You will never have a relationship that is healthy. You will never grow. You will never keep people around because of love rather than fear.

I was amazing with you. But not because of you, not at all. I thought I was powerful because of you, but I am powerful on my own. I regained my power when I walked away. Someday I will remember what I was like and I will realize that I haven’t lost myself at all, but have rather found myself. I am successful and will continue to be. I have more healthy relationships than I can count. I continue to grow and I will never allow myself to be stagnant again, like I was with you. I will never be scared of you or anyone else again. I will never stay hoping that the next day someone will love me more than they did the day before. I will never give more to someone that won’t give back to me.

In the end, which is what this is, the anger is still there. It won’t be there for me always though. I look into the eyes of my new loves, the people that I surround myself with, and I see a reflection of a strong, passionate, happy woman. And maybe I’ll have a moment where I’ll think of you, and I’ll hope for the best of the people in your life. I’ll hope that they’ll walk away from you too one day, and that they’ll seek something better than what you could ever give them. That moment will be sad but fleeting. Then I’ll go back to the world I live in, the one with you not in it. The world I chose.

This is all. I cannot go on being angry. I cannot go on feeling this way. I do not want to waste anything else on you.

Letting go,
Shelly