I have a tendency to obsess over things. I'm a woman ... sue me. Right now I am obsessing over the fact that I broke up with someone really wonderful who was madly in love with me and all of my 16 personalities because ... because ... I don't know why!
It just "wasn't there." It "was missing something." Although I couldn't exactly put my finger on what it was that wasn't there, I feel almost 100 percent sure that it just wasn't the real deal. I mean, how could it be? He loved me, isn't that proof enough that he was just wrong in the head? I couldn't possibly spend the rest of my life with someone who isn't right in the head. It's hard enough spending all this time with me.
Not only do I obsess, but I flippity-flop. I'm not sure if that is the medical term, but that is what I do. I can't seem to decide whether I want a relationship or whether I want to be single and continue to mingle. When I am happily paired—which, let's face it, doesn't happen all that often—I don't feel content. I feel scared, trapped, and unable to breathe. But when I am single, I feel strong, confident, totally in control; that is, until I see two people who are happily paired. Then I start to question why I am alone and suddenly I long to be like that happy couple. Now, I realize that I am not alone in my constant grass-is-always-greener search for the perfect answer, but somehow I don't find any comfort in my inability to find contentment with any given situation.
The last night I spent with Jay was so amazing that now I am constantly turning things over in my mind and it is driving me even nuttier. I mean, he sensed that something was wrong with me and he jumped on a plane to Vegas, rented a car to drive all the way out to my place and then waited patiently in the next room for me to write my column (maybe I was stalling), all so that we could break up in person. Is the poor guy a glutton for punishment? Or did he think that by showing up I would take one look into his gorgeous baby blues and flippity-flop back into the sublime bliss that we once shared?
But if that were the case, then why didn't he even try to talk me out of leaving? Why didn't he cry and beg and plead for me not to end our crazy on-again, off-again relationship? Why did he just hold me and tell me that all he ever wanted was my happiness and that if I felt that I would be happier without him in my life that he would respect that and let me go.
And why did he stroke my hair, kiss the top of my head ever so gently as I lay in bed curled up next to him, my head resting on his chest as I choked back tiny sobs that rose up in my throat because my heart was breaking into a skillion-jillion pieces and say, "There, there, baby, everything is going to be alright. We'll both find what we are looking for"?
Oh. My. Hell. Did he actually break up with me? I knew he'd leave eventually! Bastard! What a relief! Now I can go back to being my self-absorbed, completely in-control, terribly lonely self.
"Do you see a pattern forming?" asked my head-shrinker when I asked for her professional opinion.
I thought only retarded people answered a question with a question.
"What pattern are you talking about?" I asked.
"What do you think the pattern is?" she asked. Retard.
I inhaled deeply as I prepared myself to say that which I already knew to be true, but rather liked being in complete denial of. "I leave people before they ever get the chance to leave me?"
Shit. I asked the answer, I didn't state it. I knew what was coming next.
"Is that what you see is happening again?"
I was getting annoyed and that meant only one thing ... she was going to want to discuss—by asking me questions.
"Sonja, why did you leave your husband? Why did you feel the need to cheat on this Turtle Man you dated after your divorce? Why do you suppose you put so much time and energy into making Todd love you back, only to turn him away in the end? Why do you continue to pull Jay back into your life and then push him away when he comes back out of love and devotion? Are you testing the love of every person you allow into your life? And finally, how can anyone be expected to pass a test that has continually changing answers?"
I stared blankly at her. I always hated this part, this "Here is your crappy life in a nutshell, what do you intend to do to fix it?" part.
"Do you want my suggestion?" she asked.
Do you want to give me a suggestion? I was so tempted, but I refrained. I didn't want her to sense my hostility and suggest meds.
"Sure," I squeaked.
"I think it is time for you to be by yourself for a while."
I agree. I should just date until I find someone I'm compatible with.
"No dating."
What the ... ?
"No reconciling; just time by yourself, for yourself. You need to get back to the basics. Spend some time finding out what Sonja really wants. Do some real soul-searching and try to discover your blocks, why you repeat the same behavior and expect a different outcome. I want you to keep a journal of how you are feeling and try to keep track of your dreams as well."
Oh. Is that all?
"Your time is up."
Suddenly, I was more than just a little afraid of the double entendre of that statement.
Sonja is a writer who covers the ins and outs of relationships. Or is it the ups and downs?