Ok, so from the very beginning with Stu, the widow, I was enamored by his ability to say what I needed to hear in the language I crave. He exercised the language of recovery and also the conduct of an unrecovered addict. And– like a moth to a flame, I was drawn to each of these things.
His patterns of behavior consistently were in conflict with his words. Rather than doubting him, I doubted my sanity and ability to percieve. I was soothed by the words, so I overrode my gnawing instinct, dismissing it as my ptsd, because– I preferred his words — to being right. I wanted to be wrong. Badly.
Well, I did grow from and enjoy our situationship. But– what have I learned? Today, I am feeling deeply agitated that I still can not make people, places, or things be different from how they are. I hate having to accept what I do not want and like. HATE IT.
The widow part of his story was a gift to me – a powerful and much needed reminder: “I do not know”. So, while it is true that I cannot assume motives for anyone’s behavior. I understand that repeated patterns do not lie, while words do. I am a sucker for the language of recovery.
Fun Fact: The two men I am currently getting to know (and using to dull the pain) share the names of my previous long term relationship people. OY! What I am observing in one of them is that the protector provider instinct is high for him…so that will be NEW and delightful! And I will note how that feels like a thing I would sure like to experience.
