Trying to Decide Something

[Thumpalumpacus]

You guys really helped me out, and I got to thinking about things. I didn't send his brother the message; I ended up doing things a bit differently.

I realized I fucked up. I really, really, truly fucked up. I had an amazing man who was willing to deal with, and loved me despite, my quiet insanity, and my quiet insanity ruined our relationship. I loved him so much, and pushed him to limits. I feel like the worst person in the world.

I have gotten a bit obsessed with my search for him, but his family members, I've decided, are my last resort. He seems to have shunned social media, for the most part, so the obsessive googling has gotten me very little, but enough to give me some hope. The thing is: I thought I wanted him to share in the walk down memory lane, but what I really want is to apologize to him profusely... and also, I'll admit, that I would love for us to re-connect and live out the fairy tale we started. The truth is: if I had my 'druthers, he'd reply to one of the messages I've sent him (one to his WAY old email, and the other to his google+ account, which shows me almost nothing. His profile pic there is wicked handsome, though), we'd get to know each other again for a few months, he'd book a plane ticket here, he'd decide to stay, and we'd live happily ever after, whatever that means. I have no right to expect it though. I've always attempted to live in a "no regrets" way, but I realize I have every regret right now.

I just have no idea how to get Dale's attention without being insane about it. I feel like it might be important to both of us. I could be totally wrong; I've dealt with heartache so many times; it would suck if this didn't happen, but I would live. I just want to know.

How can I get his attention? I've actually (seriously: I might be completely off my rocker) been thinking about buying a ticket to Oz to find him, which is probably ridiculous, given my manic state right now.

You guys have anything for me? Gawds... even anything to send me into a depressive state would be better than the anxiety I have over waiting to see if Dale will respond to anything I've put out there.

Thanks again. Sorry for the length.

Between the lines, I'm reading you blaming solely yourself for the breakup. Now, we don't know the ins and outs of your time with him, but it's been my experience that in any breakup, there's plenty of blame to go around, and that they are almost never the fault of only one of the partners. There's nothing wrong with analyzing your behavior and understanding the mistakes you made, but don't beat yourself up, feeling like the "worst person in the world".

You took a long shot of a bet and it didn't work. These things happen sometimes. I'm picking up the pieces of such a gamble right now myself, and as you know, it ain't fun. But you cannot go back. I can't really say it better than this, a song I wrote to myself after another failed relationship years ago:

When all the wishin' in the world
ain't turnin' the trick, and
you go to grab the lightning
only to find it's too quick,
and you realize that one more time
your chance has slipped away

you can spend your time
and lavish your regrets
on this unhappy penchant
for the riskiest bets.
You can lay awake nights
wond'rin where it all went awry
but the riskiest bets
bring me no regrets --
I'll know I've lived
before I die.

When you're at a place where disappointment
doesn't bring you dismay --
when no matter what, there's peace in your heart --
that's a place you ought to stay.
When you already know that it's time to go
shouldn't you be gone?
Some other day, some other way
you'll find where you belong.

And if that day never comes
when you feel that you've arrived
you'll find a secret pleasure
in knowing you've survived.
And if that ain't enough
you can do it again
'cause no one knows exactly
where your road ends.

*************

In another way of looking at it, I lived for years with the experiences I had in Iran buried inside me. I didn't realize that I had to address them, the things I learnt there both good and bad, the joys and horrors. I had no idea until late one night a friend online asked me to tell her a story, she was bored. So I sent a short story I had written about some hijimks my friends over there and I had pulled -- she liked it, and asked for another, so I sent a few thousand words about an experience I had during the Revolution -- she liked it, and asked for another, which I didn't have, so I started writing. And I discovered immediately that it was reopening the wound, but in a wholesome way insofar as I was airing out feelings that had still been in play, and affecting me emotionally, without my being aware of it. I looked up two months later, and I had a hundred thousand words written that told a story, my story. And more importantly, I had a much better understanding of myself.

Put shortly, it was cathartic.

It helped me come to peace with myself and let go of many things, both good and bad; and to let go of the past.

Is this a recommendation, Becca? I don't know. Hopefully you will chew on it and decide what it means for you.

Whatever you decide, I wish you the best. You strike me as good-hearted and deserving.