Chapter 30

Do not look where you fell, but where you slipped
African Proverb

From:

Subject:  Re:

To:

Well, Lori, Rutherford’s gone. One argument and that was it. It’s just beyond my comprehension that he could walk away from what we had without looking back even ONCE. It doesn’t even seem human. I’ve just never been in a situation where a relationship has ended so abruptly with no reasonable discussions after the dust has settled. I would venture to get in touch with him, but everyone- and I mean EVERYONE- has told me that would be like nailing myself to a cross. I would be setting myself up for God knows what. And it would not be good. So, I’m keeping myself from contacting him by writing him countless letters that will never be sent. That bastard.

He said he knows I’m “better off” without him; that he always seemed to be doing or saying something to hurt me, and he was trying to “respect” my need to have him out of my life. But I don’t buy it. I really just think he’s too lazy to “fight” for me, or even apologize for how he wronged me. When a guy tells a girl “you’re too good for me,” that is classic bull for “I’m really not that into you, because I’m not willing to do whatever it takes to BECOME good enough for you.” 

Angela

From:

Subject:  Re:

To:

I guess sometimes with people, if you feel they’re “slipping away,” maybe it’s best to just let go? It doesn’t have to be forever- maybe just for a period of time until the dust settles. Maybe when you’re feeling up to it you could talk to him, if you think the relationship means enough to you. 

Lori

From:

Subject:  Re:

To:

Lori, I used to be JUST like you in that I wanted to “talk things out” ad nauseum with every bloody person in my life. I’m not like that anymore. I’ve gone through too much pain at the hands of supposedly caring friends and boyfriends to want to give anyone third and forth and fifth and infinitum chances. I read your letter and thought to myself, this is what Lori would do, but I’m not Lori and this is not what “the new self-affirming” Angela would do. I’m not going to get anywhere trying to talk to Rutherford- a person who has shown his “true colors” in that he can’t take responsibility for his bad behaviors.

Angela

From:

Subject:  Re:

To:

Then I think you should just let go. Sometimes it’s not worth it. I’m starting to find that out for myself with some of my own experiences with people. Life really doesn’t have to be as complicated as some people insist on making it. It’s up to us to simplify. I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt, probably moreso than I should a lot of the time.

Lori

From:

Subject:  Re:

To:

I guess I’m feeling more and more like I should live by the rule “hurt me once, shame on you; hurt me twice, shame on me.” And in both of our cases (you with Nick and me with Rutherford), we were hurt by them dozens of times. I think this goes beyond “giving someone the benefit of the doubt.” It just makes us look like professional victims, rather than “wicked altruistic.”

Every day I find myself remembering a way in which Rutherford took advantage of me, and I just “let it go.” Or I remember times when I would be crying in pain, and he would be ice cold- showing no emotion, and then laughing hysterically about something thirty seconds later. There were so many things I went through with him that I never told you or anyone about because I wanted so much for that relationship to work out. Don’t know why, I still can’t figure it out, but that’s what I wanted. And the fact that I haven’t heard one word from him tells me all I need to know. He’s probably moved on to some other “sucker” whom he can use for whatever he can get.

I’m writing this more for myself than you. I’m just now beginning to really understand Rutherford, and his M.O. What I need to explore more is WHY I let myself become one of his “victims.”

Angela

From:

Subject:  Re:

To:

Angela,

I just think there’s a fine line between doing that and beating yourself up over something that happened with someone whose behavior you had no control over. I find myself sometimes late at night agonizing over why I allowed myself to get taunted one day in ninth grade gym class by a bully. I can’t erase the fact that it DID happen, and that I ALLOWED it to happen. But how is it helping me now to revisit that experience over and over again, feeling every time the memory strikes like I’m still that shy awkward kid who was frozen like a deer in headlights? How is it helping me to have all that old anger welling up inside of me, part of it directed at the bully for causing it to happen, and part of it directed at myself for letting it happen? You can’t reverse the past. You can only understand it as best you can to try to avoid the same problems in the future. But overanalyzing why someone did what they did and why you allowed them to do what they did is only going to make one person suffer long after the experience is over. And that’s YOU.

Lori

Lori sat quietly on a pillow cushioning the rickety wooden chair in front of her computer. She thought about how close and intense relationships had the potential to be, and how amazing it was that such intimacy and intensity could be so easily replaced at the blink of an eye by abandon and distance.  It was the emptiness within that could draw people together. It was the emptiness within that could split people apart. 

“Finiteness.” “Impermanence.” Perhaps everything that happened in life– the blink of love, the blink of sex, and the blink of life itself– was just part of a larger continuum, as opposed to a tease or a taunt whose fate was inevitably to be mourned. Perhaps nothing in life really had to be thought of as meaningless so long as the heart and the mind were open to learning and growing. And nothing in life really had to die, so long as the heart and the mind were open to keeping it alive.

It would be possible, if it weren’t for the stone slabs that Lori felt were slowly stacking around her heart, one on top of the other. Every time she felt she had lost trust, a stone was set and locked in place. Every time she felt she lost a friend, every time she felt she had lost herself, another stone was layered on top of the previous one, making it harder to keep an open mind and an open heart. She felt that she had been like a piece of bread that had been left in the toaster too long. The fringes had become blackened and charcoal-like, not wholly desirable although still edible. Life was charring her. Though she appeared hardened, in fact she crumbled quite easily. 

She wanted desperately to matter. She wanted desperately to mean something. To someone. To anyone. But it was getting so hard to see past the stone slabs. They were piling up so high that she was squinting. She was straining. Her eyes were beginning to ache.

“Paul?”

“Hey, Lori! How’s it goin’?”

She and Paul talked for a while, like the two old friends that they had become, like the two old friends that they still were. She felt an old familiar, soothing calm that she had not felt in some time. She held onto the receiver and stroked its rim, pretending it was Paul’s cheek. His face had always been clean-shaven and full, not stubbly and concave like Nick’s. If she thought hard about it, she realized that Paul’s face was easier to caress than Nick’s was… There was more for her to feel against the side of her hand when she swept it past his cheek. And she could do it without hesitation. She could do it without fear that she was getting too close, that he would pull away from her at any moment. And Paul’s eyes would always look deeply into her own as she did this, as opposed to Nick’s, which were usually either closed or focused on something other than her. Although she had touched just about every stretch of furry skin on Nick’s body, she had ironically never felt like anything less than a complete stranger to him. 

She said good-bye and gently hung up the phone. She sat in her chair and stared peacefully at her computer screen. She wondered what it would be like to wake up in the morning and not be struck with a feeling of angst, not sure if that particular day would be another day of grim disappointment, or if it would be a miraculous turning point. She wondered what it would be like to travel down the middle of the road of life, instead of racing from one roadside ditch to another. 

It would undoubtedly be different. But for someone like Lori, someone who harbored a soul so difficult to satiate, so difficult to satisfy, while it would be different, would it be better? If she were on the verge of plunging into a different kind of life, maybe a simpler kind of life, then what was the purpose of all that she had experienced up to then? Had it all been to guide her to something she otherwise wouldn’t be able to find on her own and appreciate? Or was it all meant to sit in her memory as a constant reminder of who she really was, lest she try to forget? 

She supposed it might be easier for her to propel forward if she were filled with regret, but all she could feel was a kind of perverse gratitude that she was able to experience what she had. Perhaps she was slipping into a phase of life that meant she would fair better without so much uncertainty, but it didn’t mean that she wouldn’t, on occasion, miss the uncertainty. For it was the uncertainty that made her journey both painful and interesting, evoking similar feelings to those her brother claimed he had when he worked all night in the laboratory only to get results the following morning that he couldn’t interpret. It was a tough combination to find in life, as well as a tough combination to deal with once it was found. Yet it was a combination that was hard to forget, and with Nick, it was one that she would find herself thinking about for years to come.

A message appeared on Lori’s computer. It was from Rutherford. She hadn’t been hearing from Rutherford very often while he had been with Angela. During that time she had felt that he was on the verge of drifting out of her life for good, as though he could only handle one female confidante in his life at a time and having more than one would be like an admission on his part that females actually served a functional purpose on this planet other than to be scorned and demeaned. 

From:

Subject:  Festering boil

To:

I can’t really say that I’ve been “busy” in the true sense of the word. However, I’ve been undergoing some sort of character metamorphosis lately wherein I’ve been questioning every fiber of my … um … character. Was I a BAD person in years past? Did I do anything RIGHT? Was it all necessary in the process of positive personal evolution? Regardless, the changing has me wondering if I’ve historically perceived the world around me correctly and it has been causing a certain level of neurotic insecurity that results in me not having much to say, I think. I guess that’s the best way to describe it. 

Anyway, my new job is pretty cool, but I’ve been having a slightly difficult time forcing myself to hold my tongue when I feel like being a wise ass or ridiculing anyone in a position of authority over me. Something tells me that if I learn to keep my mouth shut I’ll do better in life than I’ve convinced myself previously.

I must to the bed. Whatever that means. 

I shall speak to you expediently. Oh, by the way. If you run into a guy named Fortuna, don’t speak to him. If you do, don’t believe anything he might say about me. He’s one of THEM.

Rutherford

Slowly moving her mouse across the length of its pad, she started clicking away old messages from Nick on her computer. She watched closely as each began to vanish with short taps on the mouse and keys, like smoking guns removed from the scene of a crime. After closing out of her e-mail site, her eyes fell on an instant messenger window, with the name “August West00001,” bold-faced and active and beckoning for attention. August West00001 was Nick Warren’s screen name. She clicked on the words twice, and watched as an instant messenger screen appeared with the blinking bar prompt ready to go.

Lori S what’s up?

August West00001 nada

August West00001 u

Lori S nothing much

August West00001 so what u wearing … lol

Lori S sweat pants and an oversized t-shirt

August West00001 kool

August West00001 u miss it

Lori S i have to go

August West00001 hehe

August West00001 bye

August West00001 so why u leavin

August West00001 do i bother you

Lori S at times

Lori S i don’t know

August West00001 i know i do

Lori S then why do you?

August West00001 i just do … it’s me

August West00001 u love me … admit it

Lori S huh?

August West00001 never ond

August West00001 ond

August West00001 mond

August West00001 mind

August West00001 so what are your plans

August West00001 anypleasure involved in your day?

Lori S nah

Lori S you?

August West00001 yup

Lori S well, think of me! i guess

Lori S or someone

Lori S i don’t know

Lori S forget i said that

August West00001 i do sometimes

August West00001 think of you when i do it

Lori S i’ll talk to you again sometime

She signed out. Logging back on several minutes later, she saw that “August West00001” had turned a pale gray. It was idle now. 

(stay tuned for chapter 31…)

Here is a link to a real-life illustration of a challenging relationship dynamic, entitled “Reeling.”

And here are some other interesting and pertinent links:

DeMars Coaching – YouTube (DeMars Coaching)

Surviving Narcissism – YouTube (Dr. Les Carter)

NARCDAILY- You Are Not Alone – YouTube (NARCDAILY- You Are Not Alone)

Lisa A. Romano Breakthrough Life Coach Inc – YouTube (Lisa A. Romano Breakthrough Life Coach Inc)

DoctorRamani – YouTube (DoctorRamani)