September 21, 2013
Events have played themselves out this past week and it saddens me to have to report that my relationship with ESS is over. It is a fait accompli.
I must interject a disclaimer here, dear Readers. I run the gamut of emotions throughout the rest of this post. In fact, I’m sure I will let slip a curse word or two, it can’t be helped.
Yeah, yeah, I saw it coming and so did you. But wasn’t there even an inkling of hope as you watched me capriciously fall in love? Voyeuristic as it was, wasn’t there even a mustard seed’s worth of faith that it would end happily? Or am I mistaken, and the bulk of you are sadly shaking your head say, “I knew it,”?
Well of course I knew it, dear Readers. But a girl can dream, can’t she? On the one hand, I am a realist hiding in a cynic’s body. The realist in me said, “This is not going to work out.” Whereas the cynic in me said, “This is never going to work out.” On the other hand, I have changed my perspective on a number of things this past year; love being one of them. Given that, I did think that love would conquer all. What? It happens!
On the one hand, I’m all, “Fuck this shit! I hope this tortures him for the rest of his life!”
On the other hand, I just know the excruciating, gut-wrenching pain I feel right now is going to take a long time to subside.
I have lived a lifetime not believing in this kind of love, the stop your breath, leave your heart in your throat kind of love. I thought that love extinct, at least for me. Someone out there please, please, please tell me that love exists. Tell me that at my mature age, it is still possible to have this kind of love, please. Just please, throw me a line, I’m drowning here.
“Well, fuck that!” I say on the one hand. “And while we’re at it, fuck all this forgive and forget bullshit. Seriously, I have never held a grudge in my life. I always thought it was a “gift” to be able to have such a capacity to forgive. But what the hell has that gotten me?”
On the other hand I say, “Someone, anyone please make it stop hurting.” As good as it felt to fall in love this deep, that is how painful it is to crawl out.
Is it wrong for me to want him to hurt like hell for the rest of his life? Is it wrong for me to hope that he never forgives himself for crushing my heart? Is it wrong for me to hope that one day he will be all alone in this world, just as I feel he has left me? Is it wrong, dear Readers, is it?
It is wrong, of this I am sure. It is wrong because I would never, could never wish harm to come to anyone I love, even if they break my heart and crush my spirit. When I love, I love fiercely; my love knows no bounds.
It is also wrong to wish harm to come to ESS because he is just as much a victim in this unsanctioned love affair as I am. You see dear Readers, this was not his choice. Wait, let me clarify, it was his choice. It was his choice to choose his family over me. You see, dear Readers, his mother gave him a choice, me or them. If he chooses me, “this means I die to my family.” And just like that, ESS would be dead to his family.
How could they do that to him? And how could he do this to me? This is tragic all the way around. But I stand by my principles, as hard as it is at a time like this. I love him enough to let him go. I love him enough to sacrifice our love so that he may have the love of his family.
On the one hand I’m all, “How noble of you.”
On the other hand I’m all, “Nobility sucks!”
And just so you don’t think I’m a complete idiot, dear Readers, I wrote the following post three months ago. I was hoping I would never have to post it. However, on the slim chance that things did not work out between us, I wanted proof that I knew what I was getting into.
Why does my happiness have to depend on someone else? Why does my fate rest in the hands of someone I have never,nor will never meet? Is that fair, dear Readers? No, but it is what I am left with. When all is said and done, it is ultimately what I have inadvertently chosen. For better or worse, the culture that I so willingly crept into has permeated my soul.
To say that the Middle Eastern culture is patrimonial is to discredit the puppet masters – the mothers. Mothers arrange and re-arrange and pull the strings of their children’s’ future like so much child’s play that it breaks my heart.
It is my belief that mothers play such an integral part in their children’s future because sadly, they had very little say in their own. Their own mothers had power over every aspect of their lives. So now they seek to even the score, so to speak.
Daughters have little recourse save begging and/or disobeying and dishonor, either of which is a travesty. And sons have even less options. It is the Oedipal Complex to the 10th power. The only feminine wiles at work in this culture are from mother to son. Women have no control over their husbands so their power rests in the control of their sons. And whoa to the son who dares to contradict his mother for he is surely going to hell. But before he does, he will live a hell on earth for which there is no relief. Disobey your mother and be disowned. Acquiesce and accept a loveless marriage.
So that is where I am today, dear readers, waiting on some man’s mother to give her son her blessing as to whether or not I can be in her son’s life. I have a couple of things in my favor. One, this woman’s son fiercely loves me and two, he will go to great lengths to convince his mother that I am both deserving and worthy of his love. However, that pales in comparison to what I have going against me: the culture. And in the end dear readers, culture is a four letter word.”
All in all dear Readers, I still regret nothing, nothing at all. As they say, “It is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved…” Aw fuck it, dear Readers, I’m just not ready. Peace, ~v.