Not unexpectedly, working hospice and having so many people die around me, or having people who have people die around them, makes you think about your own demise. After Fred's mother died and watching how he basically mentioned that she'd had life insurance and that he's not worried, I decided that it's time for me to go ahead and start looking for life insurance to care for my son in case things unexpectedly end for me.
I decided that the perfect person to consult about life insurance was my old friend, who I'll call Ethan. Ethan and I go back to high school together. We met at 15, two awkward kids, who met at Shannon Mall. We shared so much of our young lives together. Ethan ended up meeting his girlfriend, who later became his wife, around the same time.
Ethan got me my job at the store, which held me afloat when I really struggled financially. Ethan is, for all intents and purposes, my brother. I've called him that since we were teenagers. His wife knows me, and I know her. But my relationship with Ethan is sacred. We've spent countless hours on the phone together, talking about life, death, sex, politics, religion, everything in between.
He and I hadn't talked much over the last year. He and his wife have adorable kids, and life does what it does, so I was never mad when he was unavailable to me. I always figured that he was dedicating time to his family, which I understand.
Anyway, I called Ethan for the first time in nearly a year. I'd heard that he left the store and was selling life insurance full time. I was glad to catch up to him. His wife and kids are well, and he's glad to be done with the store. Our talk reminded me of when we were kids, talking for hours about everything.
Eventually, we got around to talking about how life takes so many twists and turns, and discussing how it seems like people are literally dropping like flies. I talked about how Fred was able to take time to himself to get his mind together after his mother died, and did not have to immediately go back to work. Ethan said simply "that's how it's supposed to be when someone dies." We eventually talked about my health, and I would wait to hear back about how much they'd charge me for coverage.
Ethan called me back the following day and we discussed how much they'd charge me. As we got ready to end the conversation after the business part, Ethan said to me "in the interest of being transparent, I have to tell you something." I held my breath. Most bits of good news don't start out that way.
Ethan then explained that there was a reason behind his falling back on his friendship with me. He explained that he'd entered therapy because of some issues he'd been facing and he felt that having a close relationship with a woman outside of his marriage wasn't conducive to things in his life. To be fair, he was more detailed, but my fear is that someone that knows him will read this, so I'm trying to be as private about that as I can. Anyway, he said that in therapy, he faced some things he had going on, and decided that he needed to focus on his home life.
Ethan apologized for being so absent all those times I just wanted to get together for an innocent lunch. He explained that his wife never had an issue with me, not that I expected she did. He just felt like it was something he needed to do. His confession made me so freaking proud of him! Damn homie, you're in therapy?! WORD?! That's what's up!! I told him how much I know that took a lot for him to do and to tell me. I expressed pride in his willingness to work on himself and dedicate himself to his family.
Him mentioning his time in therapy made me think about Theo. I actually think about my time with Theo far more than I discuss in here. He broke my heart, honestly. Theo was, essentially, a shit show. I saw the worst in him the moment he thought I wasn't going anywhere. Theo had what I'll essentially call a breakdown one day, and I demanded that he go to therapy, or we were over. I meant it. My life is okay on its own, and I was not about to take on the emotional load of a grown ass man who wasn't ready to deal with his own shit. Theo agreed. At first. But weeks later, once he thought that things were okay with us again, when I pressed him about therapy, he told me that he had no intentions of going.
I broke up with him shortly thereafter. Anyone who has followed me since Pete died (or even before), knows that I've had to work on my own shit for years now. The tears, the apologies, the realizations, the pain, the ownership, all of it. I had to sit in it. I had to accept it. It was my shit to work through. And I did. And I still do. I spend every day working on those aspects of my life that need it. Some days get more than others.
Listening to Ethan made me so proud of my childhood friend, but it also made me wish like hell that Theo had listened to me. That me ordering him to therapy wasn't a punishment. It was me saying that I liked him enough to want to keep things together, but I had no intentions of being a doormat and I needed him to face his shit. One day, Theo said something to me from his past, and I told him that's why I recommended therapy. He needed a professional to help him with things in his life. He said "I just need a woman to help me." I told him how selfish that was, to expect a woman to deal with his shit, when he was unwilling to work on it himself. So anyway, we broke up.
I've honestly wondered if he thinks of me, and if he regrets not doing what was needed to keep me around. He told me frequently early on that he'd never met a woman like me. Part of me thinks that was more than likely true, because I'm definitely unique. Part of me also wondered if that was just game to gas me up. Sometimes I think he just sabotaged things between us because he knew that I had things going on for myself and that I didn't really need him. There were times he'd even say to me "you're just saying that because you don't need me" during discussions. Not that it was something I'd ever thought about. Sometimes I think he was just insecure because the fact is that I was way out of his league (even though I didn't see it at the time). Other times, I think he was just a narcissist who love bombed me and showed his ass once he thought he had me and that I'd be open to the headaches that came with him. Maybe it's all 3? Maybe more? I guess I'll never know. Sometimes I wonder if he'll reach out to me and apologize for being so fucked up, when I was genuinely good to him. Again, I doubt I'll ever know.
I don't regret the breakup. I'm happy. I love my life. I'm proud of myself. I worked damned hard to get where I am. I'm so proud of Ethan for working on himself and putting himself and his family first. And I don't know where Theo is now. And it's not for me to find out. I just know that I put myself first. And I'll never regret that.
No comments:
Post a Comment