man love

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Yeah, I don’t know why exactly, but yesterday was terrible.

I went to Divorce Care Sunday evening as usual and for the first time, I talked to the group about how I was feeling the day I chose to get the hell out of there forever. Maybe that’s what put me in the hole. And I talked about how disappointed I am that I’m pretty convinced I’m never going to find real love (man love, not Jesus, not my sons or friends, but man love) in this life. So I guess that means EVER because there’s no such thing in heaven. I know, Jesus is supposed to be enough. And I’m supposed to grateful that I have eternal life and happy that I wake up in the morning. But, although I know Jesus loves me and I cannot comprehend the magnitude of what He accomplished for me on the cross and how precious I am to Him, I want a man of flesh and blood to love me. And although I am joyful that one day I will see my beautiful Savior and live forever with Him in glory, I want some love right here in this world. Man love. And I am this amazingly great, loving, fun, patient, clever, caring person that would be a great companion to someone. And I really like sex. Like I said, man love. With someone healthy and kind, not a mean, abusive, controlling mofo.

And there’s no promise of that. As a matter of fact, the prospects look bleaker every day. It’s so sad that my man-friend doesn’t return my feelings, because we had fun and I thought we were a good match in a lot of ways. But he doesn’t. And there really is a part of me that just wants to say, “What the hell, life is short, enjoy whatever you can share with him.” People say not to “settle.” Well, what if there isn’t something I’m waiting for? What if God doesn’t have a man up His big sleeves for me? Why shouldn’t I enjoy my time with my friend and relax? I don’t like the fact that he occassionally sleeps with his ex-wife, but, oh well, I know he’s not in love with me anyway. Why not enjoy what I do have with him? It is better than being alone for dinner again. Sleeping alone. Waking up and doing it all over alone. Without any hugs or kisses or love.

Well, like I said, yesterday was terrible and last night was awful. I admit the tequila bottle in the cupboard is not as full today as it was yesterday. And I cried. Sobbed, really. And I broke down and called my man-friend. He actually answered. And he listened and asked questions and talked and eventually I heard his snoring. God, I MISS him. Makes my cry just writing it. He called me this morning because I asked him to. He doesn’t love me, but he cares. Is that enough? Probably not. Like I said, I want man love. I don’t know what to do…


a little bit more human – part i


After so many years of the push-me pull-me relationship, feeling abandoned and smothered at the same time, some people would be relieved to finally be alone. I was at first. But I was very alone. I had landed in a home 30 minutes from town. I knew virtually no one. Even when my son came to live with me and I started working, I felt a deep hole. Believe me, I did turn to Jesus for comfort and companionship, but He wasn’t filling the void, the need for fun and affection and physical touch.

There was a man at work that I felt attracted to and we started talking and flirting. Then he came over one evening. And then I went to his house another afternoon, and something started. There was physical attraction and mutual connection over the pain of divorce. We talked about how it hurt our kids, our sense of identity, the utter loss of security of family and connection. He played his guitar. We laughed. We went out. We started to feel human again.

All the while there was this ugly fear crouching in the corner. I was afraid I was being deceived. Or used. That he was playing me. That he was a womanizer. I had never experienced this lack of trust before. I had never been so suspicious. There was no particular reason for this apprehension, nothing that he did. I even googled the things he said to figure out if there was truth to them. He seemed to be telling me the truth. But the doubt ate at me.

I reasoned with myself and listened to my misgivings with a logical mind. I considered that it was possible he was not what he presented. I decided to keep seeing him while watching for signs of deceipt. He was hard to pin down, kind of flaky. He seemed emotionally distant sometimes. He would sort of disappear for days and then reappear. But he always reappeared. And we had so much fun when we were together.

I had never experienced this lack of trust before. I had never been so suspicious.

A year later, we are so close. I still struggle with those same fears, although not as much. I still think I am being used. And I am using him. I don’t know if I could have gotten through the last year without him. He is still flaky. He still disappears for days. Now I know he is spending time with his kids. He sleeps at the house he got thrown out of in the divorce so that he can tuck his boys in bed at night and take them to school in the morning. I know his former wife is unkind and unstable and confusing. I know he is emotionally shut down as a coping mechanism, just like I have my means of dealing with the pain. I know he is having trouble working and keeping himself together. He is trying to eat healthy, to get regular exercise, go to church more, be a good dad.

And we talk. He plays his guitar. We laugh. We go out. We feel a little bit more human.