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for me!)
4:41 AM, Tuesday,
December 18th, 2007:
Yeah,
that's AM. I'm afraid it's nothing as
romantically dramatic as insomnia...unless
you consider working for days on end on
the CD101 Journey romantic. I don't happen
to, so - that's why I'm still up (and wide
awake) at nearly 5 in the
morning.
So I'm
ending this "series" and symbolic design
from 2004 for the time being. Obviously
what Donna did in the last entry really
threw me for a loop. More than whether or
not she can successfully battle her demons
and we can find a way to coexist, that
entry really allowed me to calm my own
neurosis about my role in
everything.
Basically
everything that lies in the entry before that, 703,
calms down considerably. Anyone in my life that
is important enough to need to know what really
happened (and I guess everybody since it's
public) doesn't have to read my version of it -
they can read hers as well. As strange as it
sounds, what Donna gave to me is priceless. For a guy
staring at his third divorce, that entry put me at
ease more than even I could have imagined. Gone
is the fear that every word I ever say from now
on is seen as some manipulation of the facts. Everyone
now knows exactly what we're both going through and
for a guy like me it is incredibly
liberating.
However, the whole
"sharing our intimate details" part is not gonna
happen. Donna felt it would be liberating to have the
truth out there, and have the world know that she is
going to a therapist and is determined to deal with
the demons and I understand how she feels. Same
reason I post several of the things I do:
accountability. I feel uneasy however posting
her liberations.If Donna wants to post it on
her own site? That's wonderful. But I can't and won't
sit here and put private things about someone else on
the site. I agreed to this "series" because I get
what she's trying to accomplish. It's like telling the
world you're going on a "diet". You need that
accountability and with releasing these 5 entries -
that is done. And in all honesty, Entry 701 says it
all. If you read the entire thing, you get it.
Rereading it, I honestly don't know how I handled
all of that as calmly and patiently as I did.
I've been doing that with varying degrees of success
for well over a year, and as you now know - it has
come to a head. That entrey really is a testament to
just how beaten I was.
Things since her
entry have been much better, though I do feel a bit
like a dog who was kicked too many times. And to let
you understand how many times that is, I said that
exact same thing in September '06 when
I had known her for less than 2 weeks. I felt
THAT gunshy THEN because of how up and
down she was. 15 months later? Numb. Completely numb.
I can go through the motions, and absolutely
adore her, but it'll be months before I will be
onboard with this. We're looking for the right
therapist for her to start with in January, as well
she's taking acting classes which will be a good
outlet for her. The single act of her wanting this to
be "public" is quite a change for her and it
has certainly given me more hope than I had before.
We'll call it cautiously optomistic, but walking on
eggshells every step of the way.
Beneath all the
trepidation I have is the unending yearning to
help her. It's always been there...however I've
known for quite some time that it can't come from me.
I may be the reason and/or catalyst to seek help, but
I do not have the tools (and am way too close)
to unlock her past. I can only love,
support...and sing to her. I want so badly for her
pain to subside, for her anger to heal... I hurt
of for her.
But we're strong,
we're hanging in there. As is always the case, what is
meant to be will happen here - and that's a product of
being honest with each other and ourselves. We jumped
staring deportation in the eye and if we break our
legs we won't sit here and moan about it. We'll heal
and move on. My legs aren't broken, they're just
weary...
...and if anyone
actually read these 5 entries, so are you. Don't
worry, the CD101 Journey'll make you laugh. I'll have
it up in a couple days.
