Control regained

Taking a break from the hilarity that ensued over my last post (you guys all completely crack me up and keep me sane simultaneously), I'm going to talk today about an extra smidgen of closure that I managed to achieve. Because dammit, I'm really pleased about it. *Proud Minx*

My last but one post detailed my insecurities at appearing weak to you, my readers, and, as such, to myself. Being strong is a state of mind, when it concerns love. And I do not kid myself, what Michelle and I had was love. Have. Is. Fuck it. Whatever.

The saying "Love Conquers All" is not true. I wish it was, although if that was the case, this blog wouldn't exist. There are just too many obstacles for Michelle to overcome for him to be with me. Or at least, that's the way he feels. A minx with a different perspective could see it very differently. If love conquered all, he wouldn't have any issues to deal with, or obstacles to overcome, they'd all just melt into nothingness and we'd float away on a pink cloud and make wild passionate love constantly for the next 60 years. (At least. I plan on living until I'm 120. Just to piss everyone off. Hey - it's an ambition. Ambition is good.)

Since I established that, no, love does not conquer all, I then had to get into icky, sticky realities. Like acceptance of a situation that was not of my own making, and not even slightly to my liking. Like shouldering the responsibility of moving on, and breaking through the inertia. Like making the whole thing palatable to me as a person, and taking charge of my life again.

I find myself at a place in my life where control has been taken from me twice. Once within my marriage, as a long, slow and barely noticeable process the denial of which was long and thorough. And that is now being dealt with - I did not describe myself as a therapy-junkie for nothing. And then, the singularly most significant event of my life so far (with the exception of my children) - the relationship that was my sexual reawakening and my first true love - was taken from me in a thunderbolt of anger and betrayal, leaving me bruised and bleeding and out of control. Both these instances have affected me deeply, and it is control of my life that I desire, need, crave and will regain.

And I mean it. I will regain control. I have already started:

My marriage is being dealt with, with professional guidance, and the outcome will be what the outcome will be, and it will be the best for all concerned - and I include myself, my husband and my children in that estimation.

But it was the eventual outcome of the remains of my relationship with Michelle that were really bothering me. I knew what I should have done. I should have cut off all contact and left it at that. But I couldn't do it, I just didn't have the strength. We remained in contact, because I just had to understand why it had finished a. at all and b. the way it did. During the time we have been in contact since, I have come to understand what happened, and how I feel for him, and how he feels for me. I have also managed to regain the correct perspective (with help from wonderful friends). But the help gave me the strength and courage I needed to gain that perspective alone. Which is the key.

Because that's the thing about life. You can read all the self-help manuals, tip pages in Cosmo, blog-commenters and episodes of Oprah that you want. Until you digest the information and realise what you have to do all by yourself, you ain't goin' nowhere, nor doing nuthin'.

And that's what I did. Digest the information, and come to my own conclusion.

I have decided how our semi-rekindled affair will end, and when. It will be civilized and special - a proper goodbye. The way it always should have been before things got complicated. And after that, we will be friends and nothing more. Cynics among you may say that a friendship after such an intense and passionate love is impossible. I don't believe this is true. If we saw each other on a regular basis, you might have more of a point. But from afar, we can maintain the kind of separate lives-true care and concern-friendship that we both need from each other. Neither of us feels able to cut the ties that bind us completely. What we had was (or have and is, whatever, fuck it) so special that we know we'll always know each other. And I've never been able to feel that way about anything other than feelings for family.

And today, I told him.

I can feel the difference within my soul. I can feel my strength returning, Samson-like. It feels very good.

And when I told him, he understood. Not just that it had to be this way, but that I'd taken control of what was happening back into my hands. Which, since many of the reasons for the split were the previous status quo, was not just natural, but essential.

And I have control back.

And it feels great.

EM xxx