In the wake of deciding that I don’t really want to continue with the divorce process I’ve had time to think. A lot. Long car and bus rides, hours by myself in my apartment far away from friends, time without seeking the counsel of others but, rather, searching deep within myself for answers to questions. Questions like “who am I and what would I be like if I were able to return to them?”
I can’t say if I’m more realistic or pessimistic; more idealistic or more cynical. In running the analysis on myself I’ve had to start from step 1: “do I really want to go back?”
The answer to this keeps coming back as “yes”. That answer leads to the other questions. I have learned that I am a little stronger, at least, than I thought I was. I also now know what I always suspected; that I don’t *need* someone to hold my hand all the time to do things as simple as exploring a new habitat, taking photos, or obtaining my own SIM card for my phone. In truth, I really don’t *need* anyone else at all. I don’t think they do either.
In returning, what of this new understanding am I unwilling to waver on? I like my independence and being able to do what I like, when I like. This was never really denied me, for the most part, when we were together. I denied them to myself because of a faulty premise for what brought us together in the first place. I thought that they needed me, not that they wanted me.
If I were allowed to return, I’d know that they want me there. I have no desire to continue any patterns of white-knighting or gas-lighting. Simply put, I want to be able to love the person I loved before but this time unconditionally and, ideally, bereft of the kinds of expectations of what that love is supposed to look like. I think a lot of those expectations wrapped up in my previous understanding of “love” were pieces along the fault lines that brought us here. At least on my end.
What I would want is to see that friendship we had take root in fresh ground as we attempt to reconcile. With my newly gained perspective on the idea that I can survive damn well enough on my own, since that’s what I’ve largely had to do since we parted, I now know that it’s not about being needed by anyone other than yourself. It’s also not about needing someone outside yourself. It’s about enjoying the other person’s company enough that being without them isn’t as much of a tantalizing option.
I think my skin has grown substantially thicker, my expectations drastically tempered, and that I simply want to love and be loved by them because it’s like nothing else I’ve ever had.
I’ve certainly learned a lot about who I am but also about how this experience has changed aspects of myself. For better or worse, I want to bring myself back to them with everything I’ve learned and seen because, really, life isn’t as great without someone to share all the new discoveries and little triumphs with.
Dearest, I don’t want to “save” you because you don’t *need* saving but I do want to be with you because… well, I want to be with you. In the earliest days of our relationship that was obvious but unfortunately, I unravelled. Now that I’m starting to come together again, I feel like I could certainly be different, if not entirely better, than I was over the longer stretch of our relationship.
I love you, I miss you, I just want another chance.