I recently starting following a blogger I stumbled onto via another blogger. I liked her style, I liked her R-rated posts that seemed to be steeped in a reality that could easily have been my own. I could relate to her, on many levels. Apparently I happened upon her at just the right moment – her posts were heating up with her connection to another blogger with whom she developed a “relationship.” It started out innocently enough, with comments on each other’s posts, then turned to private emails, then texting, sexting, and heated long distance phone calls… until they decided to meet face to face. And then things got hotter.
They both, in their separate blogs – because by association I was now reading his blog – wrote about that wildly hot weekend. But more than that – they were in love. Like a Hollywood screenplay, these two star-crossed lovers – victims of circumstances not quite of their own choosing – were in love with each other and were separated not only by miles, but by continents.
I was hooked. And these two were posting every day. Suddenly, I felt that old twinge of excitement I used to have, that accompanied the flick of the tv switch to my favorite soap opera. They wrote about their feelings for each other. They wrote about the sex (in more detail than a woman whose husband is at work all day should be reading). They wrote about missing each other. They wrote about how they were going to overcome the distance. They wrote about how they could work out the need to “keep options open.” They wrote about the next encounter – his visit to her city and meeting her friends and family. And there was nothing childish or unreasonable about either of them – they were realistically mature about the whole matter.
I was so hooked, that I started feeling that skepticism that is natural for Todd in the face of what is, and what is not, reality. I told him about the blogs. I told him that there was every possibility that these two bloggers cooked up this story to pull in more followers. Because, dammit, I certainly couldn’t wait to hear more. He nodded his ascension that reality is only what others want you to perceive.
Nevertheless, even the little skeptic in me wondered – with such an epic tale, wasn’t it destined to crash and burn in the face of their reality? Unfortunately, I was right, and I didn’t have to wait long to see it happen. The issues surrounding the distance, as well as her own present need to be free to explore her new world beyond the confines of an unfulfilling marriage, led to a sort of fallout. You see, they had agreed to be realistic, and therefore open with their relationship… and further agreed to be honest with each other about “encounters” with others. The trouble is, he really didn’t mean it. When she was invited to a weekend away with a “friend,” he had a meltdown. She felt she needed to go. His sudden revelation (whether misguided or not) that while she did love him - he wasn’t enough for her – was too much. Cue downward spiral, marinated in alcohol.
She was upset, and hurt. And working through the process that follows. She questioned things, she got angry, she realized she couldn’t give up what was right for her, so that it could be “right” for him. He essentially shut down his blog and moved it to another site, to put some more distance between them. And then he did what so many guys do – I’m done talking about this, I’m logging off for a while, I’m gonna live monk-like and shun television, radio, and all humans until I figure some shit out. But just as predictable – he didn’t stay gone for more than a couple days. Then another short and somewhat cryptic post that I dispassionately saw as only weakness and a cry for sympathy that told us nothing.
Meanwhile, she asked her readers for some advice/insight. My comment: I firmly believe in “there are no accidents.” Me, the long-winded windbag, left a 1-line comment. And so she asked me, and I answered further:
Do you believe that everything happens for a reason?
To some extent, yes.... I believe that the people who come into our lives have some purpose, and, to use a tired cliche, if it was meant to be, it will be. Sometimes the reason is to affect you, and sometimes the reason is for you to affect them. I think you and **** really have/had something – but you have to be in the same place (and I don’t mean necessarily literally) in order for it to work. From an outside-looking-in perspective, I think it was you who affected the change in him. Now is a time for growth for him (and, from his most recent blog posts, it sounds like he knows it). And for you – it continues to be a time for healing (from the life you used to live). Perhaps you both will have to come full circle (sorry – another cliche) in order to see if you’ll be standing in the same place. I do hope that happens (everybody loves a happy ending). If it doesn’t, it’ll be okay. What’s really cool about it, is that his reaction to you (what precipitated the whole break down) awakened your spidey senses and reminded you of what’s important in a partner.
I just totally got sucked in by their story, and I feel for both of them. I’m a die-hard romantic – I want everyone to find love that is passionate and worthwhile and fulfilling. I found myself invested in their happiness. I related to her. I cared about them. I believed in these two strangers. I was crushed when I read their separate posts about their demise. And it got me to thinking about relationships, about my own past relationships, about others’ relationships, how expectations can kill a love affair, and though by the time we get to that age where we should be mature enough to be over the bullshit, we still carry the baggage we claimed on that carousel 20 years ago.
And this was the subject of a revealing conversation Todd and I had nearly a year ago, about the baggage we’ve brought into this relationship.