Thursday, March 7, 2013

Day 19 Ciff hanging conclusions...

After my stealth stalker love ambush and the dream catcher was left hanging on the door, I went back to Jane's house and went to sleep. I made sure to leave an email, clarifying the context of the dream catcher which of course went unread; on account of Mr. Negatives determination to only focus on anything that will paint me in the light of (his admission) "the worst person in the world". As it turns out, all of my preparatory love emails had gone unread... he did however (again, his admission) spend countless hours reading all the fuming angry emails that I sent over the past few months. He also spend all of his focused intention on looking for signs from the universe that would also support his theories and paranoia...sort of in the same way I was looking for sign to light the path of love, he was looking for signs to light the path of destruction. Law of attraction is powerful... Darren knew too much and not enough, about the law of attraction and he was now a danger to himself, and me.

Needless to say he had set his intentions on negative, so the universe was having its work cut out... but like all heroes journeys. light always prevails over dark, as long as the light bearer doesn't give up hope. (that would be me in this case) Also, like any good heroes journey, there are some bumps in the road to test faith.

The morning rolled around, and I made one last attempt at making contact in order to confirm our meeting time etc... no answer. I arrived at the house early, looking all pretty (remember plan "crumble him") with a nice snug shirt to show off his baby in my belly... and no Darren.

The dream catcher hung on the door right where I left it. I had to wrestle my imagination and jealousy to the ground trying to find reasons why it had not been moved and where he may have slept last night, with some limited success. As I sat in the car making repeated unanswered phone calls and emails; the appointed hour came and went. I was devastated. I had done everything right, played by the rules, did everything I could to show him that I just wanted a peaceful meeting, be it to determine the end, or a new beginning. I was going to be cool. My mantras were not really working but I was trying.

After an hour and a half, I had to pee and I was ready to abort the mission. I knew this was a possibility; that memories and trauma from our past, compounded by the drama and trauma of his marriage and divorce (if any of you have read my "Mommy in a blender" blog you know what I'm talking about) could trigger any number of PTSD responses in him. So I was trying to be objective, again with limited success.

I took out my journal, tearfully and with much dramatic gusto ripped out a drawing I had made on the front page. I was artistically really bad {as you can see as I have attached it} albeit a deeply meaningful drawing that I made as another visioning exercise. Interestingly the vision appeared to me in a yoga class; the image of Darren and me and the kids all together in a love embrace, it was an image I felt I was meant to draw and make real...It was about to be made into a weapon of guilt.                 ( Please don't laugh, I am no artist... but its kinda cute .... no? )

 I tore out the picture, flipped it over and left him a hand written guilt trip about how unfair and mean he was and how fair and loving and peaceful I had been and he could just go to hell...I rolled it up and stuffed it into the hole of my dream catcher {that I had also hand made}.

By 11.30am I finally received an email, apologizing on the one hand, and then justifying his inconsideration that "I knew it was a busy week for him and he had a game launch and that it was ultimately my fault..." on the other.

Indignantly I reminded him, that he had agreed on the time and that I had made many attempts to let him know we were on; all went ignored. I was livid at his half hearted apology and defensiveness more than anything else. But I could hear in his voice; after listening to my hurt and frustration, that he even he knew he had crossed the line, and that none of his fears that I had malicious plans or intent towards him were justified. But it was too late.

By 6.30 pm he managed to pry himself from work and I met him at the house. I tried, I really did. I tried to calm myself with my mediation recordings and chanting...but I had just spent the entire day, upset and now the prospect of packing in the dark, this late in the day was overwhelming to me. On the upside, he looked like hell, like he hadn't slept in months, let alone been out snogging other women...this secretly made me happy.

I went to the front door and instead of letting me in the front, he went to the garage and opened the doors. This incensed me. After all he put me through today, he was going to confine my access to the garage. I took one look at him and launched... I was so hurt and I think he could see it. I think it was hard for him to see me and he realized he was just being an ass, and so he tried to coax me inside to talk. But by then it was too late... the next thing I knew I was ranting and raving and rifling aimlessly through wreckage of everything I owned that had been tossed into garbage bags and left in the garage.

I should have prepared myself for that. But I wasn't prepared. The next thing I knew, the orange ceramic Buddha I had bought for the garden was going to pay with this its life... good thing is he gets to reincarnate because this lifetime he ended up in a pile of shards on the garage floor.

I stormed out, got in the truck and left. This was my test. My faith and my hope at reconciliation was hanging by a thread and I just did everything I promised myself I would never do again. I lost it.

Here's where one has to let go. I was so mad at myself. I had to turn it back over to God. I sat in the car, crying and apologizing to my loving angels, who I knew were working double time to help me sort this out, and I set us all back. Damn it.

The phone rang it was Darren, and he was sorry. Really sorry. He could see my hurt and realized he had been villainising me just a little, but to his credit; not totally unsubstantiated, ask the Buddha.   I didn't quite get the face to face I wanted. But I did get the next four hours of real communication. It was the first time since long before I left that we really listened to each other. All hope is not lost.

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