I was having dinner with a friend the other day, when we started telling stories of our lives. We laughed and cried and offered each other presence and compassion. It was so healing. Sitting there, sharing with her all night, really brought home the reasons why we share our stories, why we talk to a therapist, why we talk at all. It's to balance to our soul, to bring healing to our wounds and to help others to do the same. I write a column on this blog called AngelSpeaK and it's all about my messages from the Angels. I had been thinking about writing one to share my life stories. It seems like now is a great time to start. I'll share some stories and I'd like to invite you to share too. We can be healers for each other. You can even be anonymous if you like. Let's hold each others' stories in Love and Light and let the Healing happen. - Deborah Lighthart
Today, I am remembering one of my first "breakups." I was 18yo and I was dating this guy that I'll call Dude (of course that's not his real name). We worked together. Dude was my boss. I think he was probably 8 years older than me. He actually hired me solely because he thought I was cute (which was both endearing and insulting). We started dating and he moved in with me pretty quickly. It seemed to make financial sense. Maintaining two apartments was just a waste of money, right? Beside, it would be fun to have a live-in boyfriend who was actually nice to me (since my first boyfriend was so mean and he stole everything that I didn't keep locked down).
Anyway, Dude and I only lived together for just a couple of months. He was an "academic." He thought he was so smart. I did too. So much smarter than me. And he was adorable. And he was my boss, so that made him automatically sexy. He was a writer, so he expressed himself poetically. He was also a musician (though not a really good one. lol) He went away to go visit a friend for a few days and I missed him. So, I started look at his stuff. His clothes... His personal items....His journal. Now, I knew it would be wrong to read his private journal, but I figured we talked about everything openly anyway, right? So, what could he really say in there that he hasn't already said to my face?
The entries start off from before we met. He regales his previous conquests, which was kinda gross for me to read and almost made me wanna break up with him, but I held back. That is, until I got to the most recent entries. Within the last two weeks, he wrote about how we were just going through the motions of a relationship, and that the passion was fading already. He had started fantasizing about some woman he knew before he was with me. Well, no guy has to tell me twice that he is not happy with me. I packed his stuff and changed the locks. When he came back from his trip, it was all downstairs waiting for him with a goodbye note on top like the maraschino cherry on a "Kiss My Ass" sundae. It was Sunday night. He left in a cab.
Monday rolls around and it's time for us to go to work. He started earlier in the day than me, so I knew he'd already be there when I got there. I made sure I looked as glam as I could and I went into the office. Everyone fell silent. I walked past him and gave him a polite, professional hello and went in to train my staff. You could have heard a pin drop in that room. I didn't know why but I had work to do and I really didn't care. I did my job and went on with my life.
I found out later from another friend that apparently Dude ASSUMED that I would quit my job because we broke up. He told everyone in the office (with a strong sense of swagger in his voice) that our relationship had ended and that he was sure I wouldn't be coming in. HA! What would make a man think he was so important to a woman that she would just fall apart and be unable to work? Like I would let him ruin my financial well-being? PUH-lease...
I kept my job for two more years. Long after he left. I was strong. I was not going to let him push me down, or make me feel anything less than lovable. I had enough of that growing up.
Men! I couldn't live with him and I couldn't live without.... hahahaha... who am I kidding? Of course, I could live without him.