a break or a break up?

I'm realizing that when I told him that he couldn't be a person in my life, and that we couldn't even speak unless he was getting help in an ongoing and committed way, I left a lot of things open.

In the past we have taken breaks, and even broken up. But we've never had a prohibition on contacting each other or speaking. So this is new. I could treat this like a break, and see what happens . . . in my heart of hearts, if I'm being 200% truthful, I am hoping that I'll do that, get my head right and give him the space and time to do the same. Wouldn't it be great if he called me in a week or so (or-tomorrow-or-tomorrow!) and said,"I know I can't do this on my own. I'm getting help and I'd like to figure out if there's a way that works for both of us so that I could have your support too."

But even if I hold out for that, a break could easily turn into a break up. I know he is afraid of letting me down again. I know he feels wounded that I have not given him credit for the small steps towards change he feels he has made. It is completely within reason that he would decide that after a year and a half and all of the ups and downs, it is safer for his heart to just walk away.

So, there is a reservoir of hope that I'm living with, but also a ditch of despair I'm preparing myself for. Because regardless of my decisions and feelings and wants and needs, regardless of what position I take on this, it could end in break up anyways. Many of my friends would even argue that it SHOULD end in break up now, and that I've given him more chances than he has earned.

My friends' opinions matter to me, because I know that my tendency to see the good in someone and exclude the bad skews my perspective, I know that I am loyal to a fault and often to my own detriment, and finally, because I know that when I love, I have so often lost because of these two characteristics. It was sad and interesting last night to hear my good friend say that since she had known me (a full 12 months of my relationship with him) she has never thought of me as having a boyfriend, she has always thought of me as being single.

There is a large part of me that thinks it is awful for me to be missing him this much, to have walked away and cut him off at the moment that he might need help most, and to be so uncertain of how to handle myself next. That part of me jumps up and down inside my head and says, This is not what people who love each other do! How could you do this??! But the larger part of me thinks, you were missing him all the time anyways because as the disease of his addiction progressed, he had less and less to give you, and, besides, you never saw him! At least this way you can miss him and get better . . . and move on if you have to.

But see that last part? That's the part of me hedging my bets. that's the part of me that still believes that everything happens for a reason, and that things could still work, and that we could both get to a better place and try again. that's the part of me that picks up my phone every day with my finger on his contact inf ready to dial. That's the part of me resisting giving up.

As anyone who knows me can tell you, I'm bad at giving up on anything. I don't stop, I don't quit, I don't give in. I don't accept less, I just do and give more. I'm especially bad at giving up on people. Once I fully close the door on someone (such as my second ex-fiance who I moved to CO for . . . we don't even use his name anymore. He is referred to as "Assjack."), it doesn't open again. Once the trust has run out it's gone. There's no reserve somewhere else. But like the sand in a timer, it runs out extremely slowly, eeking out a tiny grain at a time. It takes forever for me to convince myself that I need to shut it down. In all rationality, I should have given up on Assjack much sooner. There had been many instances where he expected me to put him first but wouldn't even discuss doing the same for me. There had been many indications that he was pathologically selfish and dishonest. But I clung on, believing in the good. I honestly wasn't 100% sure it was over until the day I filed a restraining order against him. Most people would have thrown in the towel (and then shredded it) at least 6 months before that.

The work that it will take me to give up on this person, now, today, is just too hard and too sad to do right away. So, while I appreciate my friends standing by me and reminding me that I deserve better, while I know I have given him more than enough chances, and while I think that anyone taking odds on this would have good reason to bet on BREAK UP rather than a break, I know other things too. I know that most of my friends who are in loving and amazing relationships and marriages now had to make sacrifices, wade through complications, and even endure long moments of loss of trust and overwhelming hurt and uncertainty with the very person they are happily, ecstatically with today. I know couples who are beautifully, happily together where there has been cheating and forgiveness, I know couples who got together while one or both were in another relationship at the time, I know that love is not always clean. And that it's probably not meant to be easy. I just don't know if this line in the sand is temporary, or permanent.

The work I would have to do to make it permanent is the black-Eeyore cloud over me every time I think about him. It's the tears I've held back for days. It's the times I've presented a tough resolve as I've talked to others about where we are at and why I made this decision, and the feeling of lying as I put on that show, knowing all the while that as soon as I stop telling that story to that person, I will be contemplating a call or email to him again. It's knowing that I have caved and contacted. I am that girl on on Intervention who is that sad and woven into the addiction that she can't walk away. It feels pathetic.

But the idea of walking away fully, and working to feel nothing for him seems so unthinkable to me right now. The last time I had to do it with someone I lost so much in the process. I lost the ability to help that person and be there for them, I lost my belief that you can get a gut feeling that you are right with that person and go with it or feel a spark and think it means something, I lost weeks and days and nights of not sleeping, of lying on the couch feeling crushing pain, I lost $1200. It really blew.

I don't want to be there again. I know I can do it, because I've done it before, but being down that hole is so tiring to climb out of. Is it worse than being down this one? I just don't know.

Talking about holes makes me think of my all time favorite show of ever, ever, ever (my love truly knows no bounds for this work of brilliance: The West WingThe West Wing.

"This guy's walking down the street when he falls in a hole. The walls are so steep he can't get out.

"A doctor passes by and the guy shouts up, 'Hey you. Can you help me out?' The doctor writes a prescription, throws it down in the hole and moves on.

"Then a priest comes along and the guy shouts up, 'Father, I'm down in this hole can you help me out?' The priest writes out a prayer, throws it down in the hole and moves on

"Then a friend walks by, 'Hey, Joe, it's me can you help me out?' And the friend jumps in the hole. Our guy says, 'Are you stupid? Now we're both down here.' The friend says, 'Yeah, but I've been down here before and I know the way out.'"

The character speaking here is talking to someone who had been lying and concealing a very serious psychological issue, and he is speaking from his own perspective of having survived his own trauma and addiction, and recovered. I think I need people who have been down this hole before, because I'm lost.

I know some things that help: meetings, exercise (especially when making exercise dates with friends or going to a class, reading, cooking, singing, music in general, journaling, blogging and friends. I also know things that pretend to help, but ultimately end up being not only Empty Calories but giving me more to dig out from: pizza, ice cream, lying on the couch and doing nothing, and in general trying not to feel my feelings.

I also, as I'm weighing my options here, think of this quote, from The Mexican:
Samantha: I have to ask you a question. It's a good one so think about it. If two people love each other, but they just can't seem to get it together, when do you get to that point of enough is enough?
Jerry: Never.

So, no decisions yet, but just trying to sit with my feelings and understand them. On a good note, no destructive behavior yet either. I have spent the weekend getting my house and head back in order, catching up on sleep, exercising, and avoiding eating addictively. In fact I cooked some seriously healthy stuff this weekend.

Note to readers: yes, I know this is the 10th anniversary of 9/11. And yes  I know that my relationship issues and musings probably seem small and petty compared to the meaning of this day. I'm not NOT remembering 9/11, I just prefer to remember it in my own way, privately. And I'm not sure that blogging my memories or thoughts on it will help me or anyone else right now. Frankly, I've been a little overwhelmed by all the media attention to this over the last week leading up to today, so I am remembering, but avoiding imbibing or participating in the media storm surrounding it today.