I find myself constantly asking “why do I repeat history?” Is saying that “I didn’t know what I was doing at the time” a cop out, because in some cases I really didn’t. I torture myself and waste priceless moments masochistically going through hell only to realize two years later that I had done it before.
Fact one: I am “the good girl.” It’s as simple as that. Inherently, under the leather jacket and tattoos, under the make-up and music, the edginess and sarcasm, under the rebellion I am ultimately “the good girl.” And I will never be anything else because, for all the trouble it’s caused me, it truly is who I am. Empathetic to a fault, I can seamlessly become a martyr, the annoying kind that you want to shake and scream “YOU BROUGHT THIS ON YOURSELF!!!!”
Fact two: I like bad boys. Not really bad, but its something I love to blame on my genes, and horrible influences of pop culture that I think I can “save” a man, when what attracted me to him in the first place, was that he was screwed up. Sometimes, I have actually helped, but then I realized that was their only attractive quality and off they were sent. I would also like to include that I am a self loathing feminist for this characteristic of myself. I realize it perpetuates awful stereo-types but I AM discussing inherent traits of my personality save your judgments.
Fact three: I am a Scorpio and I have an obsessive personality. It is what we Scorpios lovingly call “passion” and being smack in the middle of my astrological sign I am extreme in those personality traits. Whether I fully believe in astrology is another story for another time. But I know that I fill the descriptions well. When I fall for someone, I can obsess, idealize, fantasize, etc on minimal interaction with that person. If I want something then I am determined to try and get it….which can be admirable in business, but inconvenient in love. I am unable to move on and let someone go even though I know that it is headed for disaster…
So here is a piece I wrote about that!
Running into you was more than I would have thought. It made me realize that sometime while we were apart, I had forgotten about us. I pushed back those moments after you first left that I spent pining over what could or should have been. But seeing you now, I think your life would have been so much better if you had chosen me… I made you better. However, you made me weak so I’ll accept where the chips fell because I am not her anymore.
At least I thought I wasn’t. I thought I had grown until the drive home… when thinking of you made me think of him. There on that back road with the radio on, surrounded by one past and thinking of the other I had just left behind, I realized that what I became with you I had become with him. The only thing that makes it worse is that we were young and stupid. He knew what he was doing and what I wanted. I should have remembered that sacrifice is always a risk.
I helped you, saved you, for a time. I made sure that you got where you needed to be, because I loved to see that transformation of effort and reward on your face. I loved the way I could make you see the possibilities of what you could become. I showed you that your future was not set in stone, that you… that we all were capable of greatness. At the time, that conviction was the only thing getting me through, and because it is so much easier to believe in someone else than to believe in yourself.
But now, seeing you, reliving those moments, I realize that I did it again. I gave myself over to him and suffered through the passive aggressive attacks on my heart while he used me to get to where he needed to go only to drop me in the wind and walk off into the sunset with someone so much… less.
With you it was more drawn out. You left first…not leaving me on purpose but disappearing none the less and now you are stuck in your decisions… imprisoned by something I would and will never understand: a marriage of convenience and fear completely devoid of trust. But he is happy which is even worse. While I supplied him with hours of my time, working into the hours of the night to make sure he was ready, listening to his stories/problems/life…. he saw me as nothing more than that girl with a crush, just another tool to achieve his next step. Leading me on with moments of intimacy and lost looks….
Is it time to embrace those decisions and realize that this is who I am…until I am not? A stepping stone for these beautiful disasters, birds with broken wings that fly away when they are healed after I nurse them back to health? Or is it time to rise up against those habits that I see forming in my life? That shadow of my mother that I always detested as pathetic weakness? Do I let go of the harsh reality because I have understanding or accept the past but try to break the cycle? Am I repeating history because this is just “who I am” or because I was unaware at the time…?
Now that I am older I see that these relationships are universal staples, cinematic stereotypes that I have lived and as long as good memories are made and lessons are learned they will not be seen as mistakes. But I refuse to be made a stepping stone on purpose when everyone deserves to be the endgame. ..