I have been married and divorced three times in my life. That’s a fact, and I can’t change it. I’ve been divorced now for 11 years, and have pretty much settled into the idea that I’ll likely be on my own for the foreseeable future. Oh, I’ve had relationships — although most were extremely short. However, I’m in one now that’s been ongoing for almost five years — which is much longer than my first marriage, and almost as long as my second. But I still say that I’m on my own, because this relationship is basically a friendship rather than a relationship that has marriage or cohabitation as its ultimate goal.
In times past, there was some amount of shame or scandal in to be divorced so many times, and I didn’t tell people about that aspect of my life unless they were very close to me. There was one exception – in the interest of full disclosure, I would often tell someone about my checkered marital history if I saw the possibility of getting involved with them. I wanted to be honest with any potential partner, and I figured that if they still stayed after hearing what some would consider as “deal-breaking” information, then they had accepted my past and my present.
It didn’t always turn out that way, however. Sometimes people didn’t react negatively at the time of my disclosure, but kept that information on file in their “mental Rolodex” and used it against me later. I can think of one specific occasion when my honesty backfired on me in a big way.
I had been corresponding with a man in Canada who was very interesting to me. I had told him right away about my failed marriages, and the reasons for them. He made no particular comment at the time, and I thought I had dodged that bullet. But no – after six months of daily phone calls and e-mails in which everything seemed fine, and two weeks before he planned to travel here and meet me in person, he dropped a bombshell.
In the midst of a perfectly normal conversation, he suddenly announced that he would not be visiting, and could no longer be involved with me, because I was not “marriage material.” His reason was that he didn’t want to become “casualty number four.”
I couldn’t have been more shocked if he had abruptly slapped me across the face. I burst into tears and reminded him that I had told him of my history long before, and he didn’t seem to have a problem with it. I was heartbroken – absolutely devastated. I cared for this man, and had been nothing but kind and supportive in all our conversations. I simply didn’t understand where this rejection came from.
One more thing – in the next breath, after shattering my world so cruelly, he asked if we could still be friends. What is it with guys? They break your heart, then they immediately ask to still be friends??? What’s up with that? They want to reject you, but they don’t want to really lose you. Makes no sense to me!
I told him NO – we couldn’t be friends, at least not for a long time. After ending that conversation, I didn’t speak to or hear from him for a year and a half. But I didn’t forget about him, and in a weak moment I sent him a brief e-mail to see if he remembered me, and asked him how he was doing.
He immediately replied that he had thought of me so many times, and had nearly picked up the phone to call me on many occasions. That was nice to hear, but the fact was that he didn’t. So I was cautious – once burned, twice shy. But I kept the lines of communication open.
We talked for about three months, then he had some sort of financial crisis he was involved in, and became very depressed. after several weeks of me sending e-mails with no reply, he thanked me for sending him a birthday card — and then he stopped communicating completely. I had visions of him hiding in a dark room, being miserably sad and confused. I was worried about him, but had no way to communicate if he didn’t want to. So I had to let him go again – he was a grown man, and I couldn’t force him to do something he didn’t want to participate in.
There was another lapse in communication for two years, and then (silly me) I e-mailed him again. What was I thinking, asking for more potential pain from this guy? Sometimes “book smarts” doesn’t equal intelligence.
He wrote back, calling me “fabulous” and “incredible” — and suddenly we were back in touch again, as if there had been no lapse in the conversation at all. This on-again, off-again communication pattern was making me feel a little seasick!
But things seemed to be different this time — he seemed more emotionally stable, and a little less melancholy. And the odd thing is that he denies being in the crisis situation from the previous incarnation of our communications, when he was so terribly overwrought. I know I’m not making up information about that, because I still have the e-mail he wrote about it at the time. But whatever helps him sleep at night, I suppose. (He also didn’t remember the “casualty number four” conversation, which pissed me off. But he apologized for hurting me, anyway, which helped some.)
So far, this time it has evolved into sort of a friendship/business relationship, with a few romantic overtones. It’s lasted a lot longer this time, too – since mid-2005.
I formulated a theory about his hurtful behavior years before. My thought was that he had been in a nasty divorce, and he wasn’t ready to be in another serious relationship because he hadn’t yet healed from that mess. So he used my marital history as an excuse to make a hasty exit, because he knew that if he met me in person, he would really fall in love with me. In short — he got scared and ran away. I presented my theory to him a few months ago, and he agreed I was probably right.
My relationship with this man alternately warms my heart and infuriates me. He’s the only person who evokes such extremes of emotions from me, and I’m not sure whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing. It’s definitely not a boring relationship, and if it’s this intense long-distance, it could be even more so in person. I am sometimes attracted by that intensity, and sometimes fearful of it.
I’ve been maintaining the website for his charitable organization ever since we restarted our conversation in 2005, and I recently redesigned the entire site. We collaborate on projects for his organization (which is safe). We debate politics (which I hate). We talk on a personal level (which I love). He calls me “little girl” (which makes me giggle).
We flirt occasionally, and he makes vague remarks about me moving up there. He offered to buy me a plane ticket as payment for my work on the website, since I do it for free as my contribution to his cause. I was supposed to go there last August, but due to his work/travel schedule and some serious health issues he had, it has so far been postponed.
I no longer have much hope of a romantic relationship with him, although he’s sort of my “pretend boyfriend” in my mind. We have both admitted to caring deeply for each other, and even that we love each other. Short of a real, face-to-face relationship, I guess knowing I’m cared about from a distance is OK. I’d have to give up a huge amount of my current life in order to blend it with his, anyway, and I have some reservations about doing that, after working so hard to make a life for myself, by myself.
Maybe we’ll get together in our next lives…
Tags: emotions, penpals, relationships
