Ghosts From Past

The ghosts of marriage past come to haunt me fairly early this time around. There was a certain gravitas associated with the word marriage which I believed I more than fully experienced the first time around. I don't know if that is still true. Eleven years ago, I decided to give myself up in my entirety so that the marriage would thrive. As I learned, it was simply too much of a good thing - because of how deeply I was invested, I felt unappreciated and cheated because there was nothing more left for me to give. Then there were expectations of what I should receive in return that were simply not fulfilled.

After the divorce, I refused to repeat the mistake of opening up without caution or restraint in any relationship. While I limited my emotional involvement and suffering, it also made it impossible for me to overcome the traumatic events that led the end of my first marriage - the scars never fully healed. With DB in my life now, I have one of two choices. I could be my natural self and drag him through the weeds as I fight my resurrected demons by the light of day. Alternately, I could maintain a deliberately neutral demeanor that does not reflect my true nature, wage wars against what I must in silence without discomfiting him in any way.

Both options have their merits but the later is possible more fair and less stressful on DB. Often, a jumble of half-formed thoughts and an outpouring of emotions will come up to the heart and ready to burst out in a torrent of words but at the final moment, I can't quite say it because I fear I will say it all wrong - that it will do more harm than good to say anything. The impedance between my feelings and my power of expression is simply too great for anything to make sense.

This is specially a dilemma for two people who believe in open and honest communication as a means to forge a lasting bond. It is not as if I doubt the efficacy of communication itself - only my ability to articulate the complexity of what I am experiencing in a way that is coherent and cohesive to someone relatively new in my life. By when I find my way, the moment has passed. I am not yet at the point, where I might expect to fare any better or different the next time around.

Part of me wants to risk giving myself without condition or restraint - once again. DB is the kind of man who deserves nothing less. That I am not able to do so without fear of consequences, leaves me feeling both frustrated and guilty. Yet to open up like I must would be to him a lot like dredging through a pile of sludge,stone and sand to reach clear water. Even with his patience, it could be an unpleasant and irksome undertaking. Some days, I wish for time to wind back to over a decade ago, before the first ghost of the past came to haunt - that I had more to offer to DB than a tangled web of contradictions and angst that I seem to have become.

For years, I had sought true companionship and with DB I now have it. Yet prayers answered don't yield the fulfillment and joy one think will come with it. I discover for instance, that I have forgotten how to be a companion, how to seek and receive the friendship and nurture I so longed for. So there is DB, reaching out to me, trying to pry open my heart gently, deliberately and sometimes forcefully. In response, I shrink more into my clam-shell refusing to meet him halfway. I want to believe that ghosts from the past cannot haunt forever and if two people have the right intent, this too shall pass.