1998.12/05 Colleen Breakup

ALL ABOARD

I met Colleen in May on a weekend trip to San Diego.  Sonny, Jon, and I (who
lived near LA) went to a party thrown by Sonny's sister, Treva (who lived in
SD).  Afterwards we three headed out to a pool hall.  There was an attractive
woman playing pool alone on an adjacent table, so I went over to her and
asked her whether she wanted to even up the tables.

"Were you thinking four on yours or two on mine?" she asked with attitude.

"I was hoping that it would be just the two of us." I replied with aplomb.

Colleen and I played a couple games together, but they were incidental to our
getting to know one another.  She owned her own insurance agency (that she
had built from scratch).  She was much older than I (41), lived in Pacific
Beach, had a son Michael living in NY with his father.

Near the night's end, Jon came over to me and whispered, "She's a dominatrix,
man!"

I acknowledged his statement with my characteristic erudition: "Huh?"

"Look at how's she dressed!"

For the first time, I took in the packaging.  Colleen was wearing a long
black leather coat over a glittering lace weave shirt.  She had shear
stockings ending in a tight skirt and very high-heeled shoes, depending on
which way you looked.  Around her waist was a leather belt bounded by metal
rings.  All in all a formidable array that I had overlooked entirely.  I had
long ago decided to ignore people's exteriors.

(I have since learned that a lot of Colleen's clothing is an armor that she
uses to shield herself from the world.  She felt touched that I saw and
reacted only to the maiden inside.) 

UP A STEEP INCLINE

That chance meeting began a wondrous epoch.  We spent the next day together,
walking in the park, holding hands, and talking up a storm.  We alternated
weekends in LA and SD, and spent the weeknights on the phone.  From the very
beginning both of us felt the tremors of love, and every day our affection
flowered.  

In June I decided to take a year off from Caltech to recover from Chronic
Fatigue Syndrome.  Since school was the major reason I was in the area (the
close second being friends) within weeks I was in San Diego living with
Colleen.  It took a long time to unpack, mainly because I was regularly
distracted from the task of settling in by the joyous presence of my lady
love.  

Soon I had a contract job with my landlord for designing his business web
page.  It took minimal time and was just enough to pay the bills.  I started
writing my book, A Practical Approach To Living.  I began helping Colleen
automate her office, which allowed me to spend time with her while she was
working.

The apartment was just a few block from the beach.  Occasionally I would walk
out on the sand, bask in the sun, and remark to myself how dramatically my
life had changed.

It was an intensely happy time.

FALLING FAST

Many things happen next in a jumble.  Colleen's son Michael visited for a
couple months (as he does every summer) and his presence changed the dynamic
in the small apartment.  Michael (at age 15) had inherited his mother's
attitude.  Colleen commented to him about how well he and I seemed to be
getting along.  He replied, "It shouldn't be a surprise.  You know, he is
closer to my age than he is to yours, Mom."

Colleen and I also had our first fights.  I learned quite painfully that she
has a primal fight or flight instinct.  When she fights, she goes straight
for the emotional jugular; when she is feeling hurt or uncertain, she flees.
She would also "talk trash", saying and doing hurtful things in retaliation
to slights real and imagined.

It was very difficult for me to deal with.  At first I did not understand
that she would say things that she didn't mean when she was hurt, and I was
confused trying to reconcile her spiteful words with her loving ones.  Even
once I understood I still didn't know how to handle it; she would wound me
when I tried to get close and then lament if I pulled away.

I discovered many things about her, perhaps the most important was that she
felt very insecure.  Before I had met her it was my express purpose to find a
woman, and I still associated with women that I was once romantically
interested in.  She was afraid that I was keeping them "on the back burner"
in case my relationship with her fell apart.

That explained the origin of her reactions but not the strength.  Several of
Colleen's relationships had ended because of the infidelity of her partner
(including one of her marriages).  I frequently felt during our problems that
she wasn't talking to me, instead dredging up old wounds that had never fully
healed.  

CURVING BANKS

Despite the friction between us, we tried to work through our problems.  We
started seeing counselors.  The first was Dr. Ellicott, a therapist that I
had seen off and on for several years and who had been consistently helpful.
Colleen broke down in the first session with her and refused to return.  We
saw the second counselor for about a month before Colleen ran sobbing from a
session.

In both cases, her flight was in reaction to suggestions by the counselors
that she might want to change her behavior.  She told me that she felt they
were against her, when I had perceived them only wanting to help.  In late
September I began to despair that things would improve, let alone return to
the idyllic loving we were once so easily able to express.

With a heavy heart, I told Colleen that I thought it would be best for the
two of us to end our intimate relationship and go our separate ways.

Around that same time Colleen had been undergoing a number of personal
revelations.  Not the least of which was an understanding that many of the
things that she attributed to "me doing" were in fact "her reacting", and
that her responses to situations were often inappropriate.  She tried to
convince me that she was going to change.

At the time I saw this as an attempt to keep us together at whatever cost.  I
do not want my partner to have to change to be with me; I want to accept them
as they are, to cherish them as they are.  Our conversation deteriorated and
at the end Colleen dealt me a savage blow from which I was unable to recover.

CORKSCREW TWIST, AKA THE MEDALLION

One of my gifts to Colleen was a wish box.  I asked her to place her wishes
inside it and I would check it periodically and try to make her dreams come
true.  It is hard for Colleen to ask for things for herself; this way, it was
at my request that she reveal her desires.

Her first use of the wish box was wonderful.  She gave me a medallion along
with a poem.  The medallion was the kind that was in two halves, with an
inscription on the front.  It belonged to her late father, with whom she was
very close.  It was, without doubt, the most touching gift that I had ever
received.  I wore it every day, and it came to represent to me the enduring
aspect of our love. 

When Colleen thought that we were going to break up, she demanded the return
of the medallion.  "That belongs only to men who loved me," she spat.  I was
struck to the core.  With teary eyes I took off the necklace, gave it to her,
and then left our apartment to stumble the shores in misery.

When I returned I found the place plastered with heartfelt notes, pleading
apology, asking for my return, and the medallion was with them.  Colleen had 
recovered her composure and sallied again to convince me that things were
really going to change.  We eventually agreed to give it another month and
then reassess.

LOOP DE LOOP

I did not make it half that far.  The medallion incident was a spike in my
gut, burning with confusion.  Why did she say and do such things?  Why, if
she knew it hurt me, if she didn't mean it?  I knew that the medallion was
important to her; I would likely have returned it, since I am rarely attached
to material things.  Why couldn't she have asked for it back, instead of
striking out? 

Every day in the morning I tried to put the medallion back on.  I knew that
unless I could get past her rash mistake that our relationship was doomed to
failure.  But I couldn't do it.  I couldn't forgive her for what she had 
done.  Through a glass darkly I came to see the world.  I blamed Colleen for
my pain, and slowly became a detriment to our union.  I nursed my wound and
collected myself to strike back.

Perhaps fortunately, one of my great fears is harming the one I love.  I
chose to break things off rather than risk hurting Colleen.  The timing could
not have been worse; it occured the night before I left for my friend Ken's
wedding.  When I returned things continued to be tense.  She left the
apartment and waited for me to move out.  

But we were still passionately drawn to one another.  We began speaking
again, going out again, sleeping together again, making plans again, and
basically resuming our life as a couple.  (Upon hearing this description a
friend of mine asked: "Just what does the phrase 'broken up' mean to you,
anyway?"  :-)

SCREECHING HALT

Things continued in this nebulous vein for several weeks.  Colleen and I
planned a long vacation together around Thanksgiving.  It was a two-legged
east coast extravaganza: hitting NY, NJ, and CT and then SC and GA.  I wanted
to enjoy life with Colleen again and officially rejoin us as a couple. 

The trip itself went quite well.  We saw her son Michael in NY and spent
Thanksgiving with him.  The three of us drove around NJ and visited the area
where Colleen grew up.  We also converged on Hartford, CT where my family
drove down to meet us all.  Then on the second half we met two of her
siblings, Janet and Tommy.  

Colleen flipped out twice.  The first was in NY over an incident with the car
rental.  Enterprise placed a hold on her VISA card (which was tied to her
bank account and thus, she couldn't touch any of the money she set aside for
the vacation).  She took her frustration out on me, and then in the middle of
the night said the trip was ruined and she was going to fly back to CA.  It
took both her son and I to convince her to stay.

The second time was on the plane flight back.  She was distraught over
breaking up; like myself, she wanted to continue to be together.  There was a
perfect moment to tell her that I wanted the same...  but I never got to
speak the words.  Carried away in her own momentum she began cursing me and
saying that if it was going to end it would end now.

I didn't have the energy to fight her anymore.  I do not want to combat my
partner, ever, nor do I see the need.  Our relationship had become an
emotional roller-coaster ride, and quite frankly, I wanted off.  Colleen
methodically disassembled our union, and this time I did nothing to stop
her.  That night I slept in a hotel, and the next day I moved out.

THE RIDE IS OVER

It is now some months later.  In the intervening time, I have been
heartbroken and anguished, lamenting love's loss.  I have been angry and
outraged at the abuse I suffered.  I have been frustrated and confused,
wanting things to have turned out differently but not knowing how to make it
so.  Finally I am on a more even keel.  I have forgiven Colleen the mistakes
she made.  In time, I hope I can forgive myself.

With some distance from the events I am able to see several things clearly.
First and foremost, Colleen and I moved too fast.  We were very much swept up
in our emotions, and like many intense emotions they pulled things out of
perspective.  On occasion they magnified events of no consequence and turned 
them into world shaking crises that had to be dealt with, Now!

On a more personal level, this relationship has exposed to me an underlying
emotional immaturity.  Most of my life I have lived in the realm of the
intellect, making choices by reason alone.  Recently I have tried to
integrate my emotions into my total being, and with my change to Incarnation
18, they now have direct input into my decision-making processes.  I see this
as a positive step, necessary to becoming a whole person.

However, my emotional side is still childish.  In some ways this is a
blessing; it still believes in true love, it still is simple and honest.  But
in other ways it is a crucial lack.  My emotions are still reactive and not
responsive, and their impulses lag far behind my ethical standards.

I believe I need to develop an "emotional maturity" before I will have the
type of loving relationship that I envision, and this is number one on my
"personal growth" list.  I want to be supportive even under duress, and not
reflect back negative emotions; I want to forgive others their mistakes, even
when they wound me; I want a gentle touch that heals when another is hurt. I
feel this goal to be well worth striving for, though it may be more than a
lifetime away.

GOODBYE

Though I see its tragic end, I am not bitter.  The draught of love was sweet,
and that is what I shall taste years anon.

I recall a woman in the park, my head in her lap, who carefully opens herself
to me.  The same woman races across 120 miles in the dead of night just to
hold me, because I felt disconnected from my emotions.  I am in her arms
again and again, feeling the sense of rightness between us grow.  I remember
cards with touching words that come straight from her heart to mine.

Goodbye, Colleen.

I love you deeply.

But I must move on.