I’m A Mess

What’s going on? What’s happening to me? What am I doing?

I should be mourning. I should feel sad, angry and frustrated. I should be crying. Maybe I should read more often about coping methods, about buddhistic psychology. I should do all of these things so that I could get over the recent loss and get back to being and feeling normal. Instead I am going crazy over you, thoughts running wild in my head.

I’m impatient, don’t want to wait until the 26th when you will come here. Even though we agreed to leave whatever we have to discuss for that Friday in about 2 weeks time, instead of doing it via email, I still kind of hope to get a quick note from you, a short message to say hi and check in on me. Whenever you should have got home from work, I start – almost frantically – checking my mails every so often and get madly disappointed when there’s nothing from you in my inbox.

I’m so impatient that I can’t even wait for the weekend to hear your voice again when we will play that online game together. Each day is just crawling past me. I feel so bored, yet unmotivated to do anything. All I can do is paint mental pictures of you coming here, of us having that conversation. It continues with me having to cry and you taking me gently in your arms, holding me. And then you’re confessing your true feelings. They’ve been there all along. I can hear you say it, just the same way you did a while ago during that game: “Wanna cuddle?” Yes, I do. We’re lying down on the couch. I can rest my head on your chest, your arms tightly around me, one hand caressing my arm, while I gently touch your stomach, your chest. That’s it. We know the rules. We won’t do more than that.

But I have to confess my other fantasy: I also imagine us having an affair from that point on. You’ll have 2 more weeks off after that weekend, so I picture you renting a hotel room nearby to stay there. We’d meet up whenever I don’t have to work and while H is at work himself. We talk; we laugh; we cuddle; we make love one day; we have wild passionate sex the other.

Oh my God, what’s wrong with me? Is this normal? I thought I was over you, more or less. At least I thought to have gained some control. Now it feels so much worse, but at the same time so much better. I know I did the right thing asking you to talk to me one on one. It feels like we’re heading towards a deeper form of relationship or friendship. Somehow I am even more convinced now that you do have feelings for me, even though realistically I still believe that they are nothing more than friendly feelings. Does that make any sense? Gee, I don’t know what I am saying, how I can express what I am feeling.

It’s like I am heading towards that big conclusion of whatever this is here. I don’t fear the outcome. I am positive that it’s going to be good, one way or the other, no matter what you actually feel for me. I need to talk to you, be honest, get your feedback and yes, I do want to be held in your arms even if it’s just for a few seconds. I am yearning so much to see you again, talk to you. Until then, I am a complete mess it seems.

My Beacon/The Blinking Cursor

Getting over this second miscarriage is really hard. Even though we lost this baby at an early stage, the pain is there, full force. At the same time, I don’t feel sad, I don’t need to cry. However, neither do I feel anything at all. No joy, no motivation to do anything. Nothing. I just feel really numb. There seems to be only one thing that can still bring a smile to my face, that gives me something to look forward to, to enjoy. You guessed it probably: it’s you. It must sound so cliché, but right now you are my beacon of light and of hope. The one thing that gives my life some meaning right now. Don’t get me wrong, I still love H, probably now more than ever, after all we’ve been through recently. But he’s hurting so much, too. He’s sad. Crushed. We are not able to cheer each other up right now. We’re supporting each other, but it’s so painful. So I’m coming right back to you. It’s not about love or sex. I guess it’s the same as last time. I find strength in your silent comforting, your support, just you being there. Your understanding. Your friendship.

We told our parents and kind of agreed to also tell our siblings, which is my brother and you. At one point or another you’d find out anyway. So I expected your mother to tell you, but maybe when H talked to her he told her not to say anything to you. You only found out about it when I told you yesterday.

But let me back up a bit first: on Saturday you made a really thoughtful offer. That next weekend get-together is approaching, you know, the one when we are to talk. So instead of just meeting there and having to find a good time to go for a walk together without anyone else around, you offered to come to us on Friday, have that conversation here while H is at work and then drive up there together with us. You’ll have the week off so there would be no scheduling conflicts. When I read that message on Saturday, it really brightened up my day, made me happy. It was just what I needed then. (I told you…my beacon.) I didn’t give you a definite answer then, just told you that I wouldn’t have to go to work that day either and so it would be an option, but we didn’t make a “final arrangement” yet.

Then yesterday was a really tough day for me. We met up with your mother nearby. It was very emotional, lots of crying. She’s trying to comfort us, but with her it tends to make matters worse sometimes. She’s a wonderful person and she does it from the goodness of her heart, but I just can’t deal with that right now. So after that emotional day, I decided to email you and honestly told you how much it would mean to me if you could actually do what you had offered. And then I also openly told you why it means so much to me. I told you that we’d lost another baby last week and that things are rough right now.

I got your reply about 2 hours later. You said it would definitely be no problem to come here on Friday and that you would do it. You mentioned that your mother had not told you about the miscarriage yet. And then you said: “This blinking cursor is getting on my nerves. Let’s just use that Friday for everything else.” It took me a while to figure out what you meant by that. I guess you were at a loss for words and could only stare at the mouse cursor blinking in your email that you were trying to write…

I’m sorry. I didn’t want to burden you with this. I really thought your mother had told you already. I actually have no clue what this kind of news does to you. Do you just feel really sad for H and me? Or is it a different kind of pain because you might actually like me a bit more than I think?

I really do look forward to that Friday. Two and a half weeks still. I’m not afraid. I feel that I can be completely honest with you. And I am open to whatever you will have to say, to this crazy mess I got myself into with you, to your feelings for me (of whatever kind they are) and to H’s and my recent loss. I really feel this deep connection with you, some bond on a more profound level.

I am so glad to have you in my life.

Safe and Sound

After we told each other honestly what kind of feelings we had for one another, things went back to normal quite quickly. I was actually amazed how fast I got over you. Must really just have been a simple crush. But confessing wasn’t the only reason why I was able to sort out this emotional mess I was in. My life was about to be turned upside-down when I found out that I was pregnant! H and I had been trying to conceive for one and a half years at that time, so we were really excited, happy and thrilled. We were looking forward to finally becoming a little family. And it was the perfect occasion to get engaged to be married as well! Life was really, really good.

Unfortunately, we lost our baby at the end of the first trimester. We were so devastated. The pain was unbearable. It hurt so much. Words cannot describe such a loss. By the time we found out about it, we’d already told pretty much everyone, also you. I remember seeing a smile on your face, a sparkle in your eyes, when we showed you the first ultrasound picture of your little niece/nephew-to-be. Your mother must have told you about the loss after and you talked to H. I know from your mother that you were really sad and sorry for us. You really cared. You’re not a man of many words, you don’t say much, but I still tend to get a sense of what you’re feeling. In that time of coping with the sudden loss of our unborn child, whenever I was around you, I felt okay. I felt understood, silently comforted by you. It took me quite a long time to get back to the way I was before the pregnancy, to regain my positive attitude, trust in life. During that time, I looked forward to spending time with you, not because I needed to see you out of love or because I felt attracted to you. No, it was really for comfort. To gain strength in your presence, in your unspoken words.

I used to listen to a lot of music during that time. Songs to give me a chance to grieve, but also songs to cheer me up and give me hope. There was this one song in particular that I came to associate with you and your silent comforting. It’s “safe and sound” by Capital Cities. For some reason, whenever I listen to its upbeat melody and hear the lyrics, I always feel like you’re talking to me through that song. You could lift me up. You could be my luck. Even if the sky is falling down, I know that we’ll be safe and sound. In a tidal wave of mystery, you’ll still be standing next to me.

I still think of you when I listen to it. And it’s still a nice feeling. I am no longer mourning, but this song will probably always be “our” song. Not at all in a romantic kind of way. But as a symbol for our friendship, a connection on a much deeper level. Of understanding each other without words.

It is possible that my mind tricked me into believing all this in order to better be able to cope, but even now, after H and I finally overcame the loss and the sadness and grew even closer together as a couple, I still feel this odd connection to you. I really cannot describe it, it is just this feeling. A feeling that we are so similar in our emotional ways. I usually don’t like to use this term, but maybe we are indeed “soulmates”. It is also possible that we are not each other’s soulmates. Maybe you’d be just mine and there’s another one out there for you. I believe that there is someone out there for everyone who would fulfill this person’s specific needs, match his or her longings. But this person in turn might have needs that only a third person can fulfill. Finding “the one” is possible, but you might not be the one for your one.

Anyway, those are just some random thoughts that keep coming to me whenever I think about why I cannot get you out of my heart and mind. I feel wonderful around you, in your presence. Sometimes I long for your love, your touch, but most of the times, I simply like to be around you for your friendship, your comfort, because I feel so safe and sound around you.