My mom wrote me an email (well actually a Word document attached to an email) today about my blog entries concerning Jess. First of all I never know how to feel when my parents read my web site. I don’t write for them but for an audience of my peers, and sometimes just for an individual, or even myself. I feel like they of all people shouldn’t have to read it because I try to keep them informed, but on the other hand I do write stuff here that I don’t share on the phone because I’d like to work it out for myself instead of running home every time I have a problem. Regardless I’m glad she read this and I’m glad she wrote me.
The first thing Mom says I need to do is figure out why I broke up with Jess and if enough has changed since then to warrant getting back together. In the previous post is a poem I wrote the first time I broke up with Jess. I remember crying when I handed it to her. I was crying because I didn’t want the relationship to end, but I didn’t want to be miserable. Why was I miserable? Because I felt guilty, guilty that I wasn’t giving her enough of my time, my attention, enough love. There were times when we were happy, and they were the best times in the world. But too often I felt sad because I thought that by remaining her boyfriend I was bringing her sadness and I thought that by breaking up she’d be happier. The second time, when she had graduated and I was looking at another year of school we were in a very similar situation, and she was offering to stay in Lafayette with me, a place we both wanted to get out of. I felt like I was holding her back and I didn’t want to let her make that decision because I couldn’t see that to her, I was worth it. I couldn’t see myself as being something valuable. Yes, she was valuable to me, and yes, I would have probably done the same thing if I were in her shoes, but I was over run with guilt and I couldn’t see past my own selfish nose. The same holds true for the rest of my sadness, if only I had been able to see that it was possible to be happy even when our schedules were busy I would not have made the decisions I made.
Mom also questions if I felt stressed out in life again, that I was being torn in a million directions, would Jess be one of the things I let go of? The answer is “no.” and that goes for any woman I love. I broke up with April because I realized my heart was somewhere else, that I no longer loved her and that I was wasting both of our time by staying in the relationship. I would not leave a loving relationship because of time issues as I now have the tools to be happy in a relationship in spite of a busy life. I have yet to be able to let go of something that makes me happy even though it may take up a good part of my day (ex. fencing).
Regarding sunrises, Mom points out that I said I was bitter that Jess slept instead of spending time with me. Sometimes I wonder if I am a horrible writer because my final statement in that paragraph is “I was a fool… ” which I would hope coveys a sense of learning, that I do not intend to make the same mistake twice. Since I was not clear enough for at least one reader I will rephrase as follows: “I will do my best to avoid feelings of bitterness and jealousy in future relationships, ESPECIALLY over, but not limited to, small things like sleeping vs. watching a sunrise. I will also do a better job of conveying when something, like watching a sunrise, is important to me.”
My entry “When your heart throws in the towel” was meant as an attention getter title, specifically Jess’s attention. I also meant to include feelings of hope and aspiration as I planned to continue my efforts to rebuild trust and to bide the time. Just as I was finishing that post however, my laptop overheated and crashed on me. The result when I rewrote it was less glowing and more negative than I ever intended it to be. I have added a note to that post indicating as much so future readers will not be so discouraged.
Mom thinks Jess takes so long to write back to me because she needs space. While I think she may need her space I do not think that Jess feels an email is intrusive, but rather she just doesn’t spend a lot of time online and even less writing long emails so she has to find time to sit down and write as opposed to it being part of her daily routine. At least that’s what I tell myself, but it’d be nice to know for sure one way or the other.
An interesting item my mom brought up was that of publicly posting my personal feelings and opinions in this blog. When I posed the question to this readership most everyone supported my resolution to be very open and honest here. As for an individual who is the subject of an entry or a series of entries I do not know how he/she may feel. I suspect that if I were Jess reading my blogs would be both embarrassing and enlightening and I apologize for any hurt I may have caused by writing. My purpose however is to use this as “The tallest building in the city, from which I can scream my thoughts and know that at least someone is listening.” As I assessed in an earlier post I think part of this need to be listened to is the result of being alone. Some people talk to a pet, or a parent, or a friend. I talk to the internet.
My mom disagrees with my comparisons of Sarah to Jess because Sarah NEVER saw me as anything but a friend, but that Jess did love me. Again I think I must be a terrible writer as I tried to acknowledge these differences, that the women were by no means the same. Instead I was trying to compare MY emotional reactions in the case of each woman, feeling that my process is very similar and fearing a similar outcome. To me it is a cyclic process. I start off trying to be a friend, to push my feelings of love in a trunk and just take it one step at a time because that is what logic and reasoning tell me will lead to success. But time passes and I can’t keep my feelings bottled up, I tell this friend or that, and then I feel like I’ve told the whole world except for the one person that matters, and that if I just tell her, she’ll understand how I feel, she’ll see that I am a good person, a person who she would want to date. So I tell her. She needs more time, or the answer is still no. I feel crushed, destroyed, I withdraw from her, from life as a whole. Time passes and I gather the pieces, maybe she even does something for me that makes me think she does have feelings for me. And it starts over. Each cycle ran about 6 months or so with Sarah. It was this cycle that caused me to be a stubborn fool and not take her to Senior Prom (it wasn’t really about the shoes, it was about me breaking my own heart). IF I’m in the same cycle with Jess I feel like I’m at the “So I tell her” part. But on the bright side I am aware of the cycle, of how I once reacted and how it was unproductive. It will be the best test of how much I have improved, to see if I can handle the outcome any better.
Lastly, Mom points out that Jess and I are still at different stages in our lives. Brittany once told me that IF a relationship ever did materialize between Jess and I that it would not be the same as it was two years ago. Becky asked me if I love the “now” Jess or the “then” Jess. My response to all of these is that “Yes, I do realize she’s different. Yes, I certainly hope that I am different. No, I don’t know exactly how different she is because I’ve been limited to a handful of conversations and emails.” Looking back Jess did an amazing job at loving me. I realized she was being patient and kind, never jealous or envious, never boastful or proud (1 Corinthians 13:4). I do not think that is a trait one looses easily. I loved Jess because she was intelligent, because she was a hard worker (and by golly she got that 4.0 with honors), because she always wanted to talk to me, and she wasn’t afraid to cry in front of me, because she listened to me talk about fencing ad nauseam, because she wasn’t afraid to dance or be goofy, but she could accompany me to the most formal of occasions and not look or feel out of place. I loved her because she was passionate about everything she did and she always wanted to do it well. I loved her because she was so much of what I aspire to be, and though I may have felt inadequate standing next to her occasionally, she loved me just the same. I loved her for who she was, the very core of Jessica Marting. Though she may have different friends, dress professionally, enjoy different types of music, or have more lesson plans to write, I do not think that the Jess I loved has really changed at all and it is for this reason that I hope she will deem me worthy of another chance.
