Moonspun Spins

I knew just where they were, the two totes of my past–containing  baby sweater sto my first bras (what? doesn’t everyone keep them?!) report cards, year books, my junior high school gym shorts (what? they closed my junior high, it’s a retirement community now…these are priceless!) and other sundry momentos of the me that once was.

I headed down the basement last night, pulled away the cover of the tote and dug until I found them–my college journals from my sophomore through senior years of college–specifically from fall 1986 through spring 1989. Two and a half very intense years of my life. And I was very much into writing journals at the time. So after lil moonspun was tucked in and I had several hours before my beloved husband would be back from our national’s capital, I settled into my wingback chair and opened the slightly musty pages and read.

Wow.

 What prompted me to dig out these gems of my past was two very intense late night facebook chats with D, my former boyfriend, whom I recently got back into touch with. Now I normally stay up late when RP is away, but 2:30 and 1:3o am are very extreme for me! Yet as D and I chatted and revealed more to each other about our past 20 years, I had to know.

I had to remind myself why we broke up, or more specifically, why he broke up with me. Because he said he didn’t remember when I asked him. Although he was still sorry about it.

Now, D is going through some incredibly shitty times, divorcing after 17 years of being married to what sounds like a screwed up, arrogant and selfish woman. No surprise, he is getting screwed over money-wise and kid-wise because he is a man. He is in a 12-step program (not for drugs or alcohol though) and being as patient as he can with his own healing process. He needs a friend. And so again, I am amazed at the power of the dream I had about him that prompted me to reach out.

(As I think about this post, it could be very, very long…so I’ll try to summarize.) The reading of my journal was eye-opening to say the least. I read through 1986 and how D and I were on the verge of getting involved and then I wound up getting involved with PMG, my college girlfriend and coming out as a lesbian. Then through that break-up 14 months later and my subsquent heartbreak and really the wreck of who I was…and then starting in the spring of 1988 when I was away at a different college on exchange and thus near D, how our friendship once and for all bloomed into a relationship.

Which, apparently was doomed from the get-go for our lack of really understanding each other. And there was no big clue as to why he broke it off, except that his mother was overbearing and somehow too involved in his life. But the insights about myself and who I was, and how dependent I was on other people for my own identity and happiness nearly knocked me over.  The lonely and screwed up person that I was at 20-22 screamed up at me from my longings and musings of those pages. I was scared, insecure and just plain messed up. And yet I went on.

It’s been an interesting weekend thumbing through my past and discussing it with D, who seemed to want and need some kind of closure for himself over it (that 12 step thing maybe). I am glad that we can become friends again. And to have some of my questions answered, too.

In the meantime also on Friday, another friend, SB, who I worked with for a long time and who I had a fling with in 1998, called me. To say this man has been in a loveless marriage for a long time is an understatement. His wife finally asked for a divorce. RP rightly pointed out that SB was cowardly not to have done it himself years ago. Anyway, I talked to him and was empathetic about the tediousness of divorce, because not matter how mutal or amicable it is, dividing your belongings and selling a house just plain sucks. However, SB wasn’t very subtle about asking me if RP and I were happy to see if I might want to be with him now after all the years when he had the chance and didn’t take it. His loss, not mine.

D, on the other hand, did no such thing. Despite his own mess of problems he said several times how happy he was for me, that it was obvious how much I loved RP and that he would love to meet him someday.

So in the midst of processing former decades of my life, I sent RP an e-mail that contained this in it:

“So what was interseting to me last night in talking to these two men who I had once cared about and been with was that in many ways is reinforced my love for you and our relationship. I didn’t think about “Oh no, now that SB is getting a divorce, it’s too bad that I am with RP.” Or “I wish I could swoop down and fix all D’s problems after 20 years.” It was “Damn I am so glad that I have found my true partner and have an amazing husband and never have to worry about being loved again.” I was clearly meant to be with you and I have no regrets. It’s so lovely.”

He responded with the usual lovely things he says to me about my writing and ability to express myself, blah blah…

I am grateful, as always, to have a husband with whom I can truly talk to about anything. Including reading him passages from my college journals.

Aye, I am a lucky woman indeed.