Facing The Tiger

I suppose I left the door of the tiger's room ajar. The problem that has been softly (or loudly) growling from behind the curtain of music and work and friends and booze. I looked him in the eye the other day and I knew I couldn't avoid him too much longer.

Well, Thursday night I worked late in Brooklyn and planned to meet-up with my girlfriend after. I was going to vaguely elude to my current state of turmoil, but she saw strait through me as though I was made of glass. I think she and I are going to be great friends. It is scary how quickly she knew me, but I suppose she is another woman who shares my particular brand of soul and situation. No one else has caught on, but I suppose their views are tainted by their long standing knowledge of me and their knowledge of my frankness. They just did not think to dig deeper.

We met at the most fabulous downtown private club, The Downtown Association. She recently became a member and wanted to show me around. It was truly something from another era. The leather furniture, ornate wall and ceiling treatments, fireplaces and even a taxidermy zoo in the "smoking room", lent to the authentic gentleman's club feel. I am not high society or pretentious (though I relish feigning pretension!) and neither is she. We are both California girls, from a land where the idea of a class system is humorously foreign. It is for this reason, the utter difference of this place, that we are so amused by it. We looked the part; she in her knit top and pencil skirt, me in my cropped suit jacket and high waisted slacks, both of us sporting a single strand of pearls. We are not trying to be anything we are not anymore than a soldier in camouflage is trying to be the jungle! We do know how to blend in to our surrounding, the only true way to observe those so different from ourselves.

The conversation flowed with the drinks and moved with us to The Vintry wine bar and finally to the bar in her apartment building, we found ourselves in similar predicaments and desperately in need of the other's sameness.

D was angry that I hadn't called him all day and was out when I finally stumbled home. When he tried to wake me up, I merely mumbled and rolled over. I was not about to fight with that much alcohol in my bloodstream and uncertainty in my heart.

Then he crossed the threshold. You see there are two domains within our tiny apartment, his is the night and mine the early morning, the space in between shared. When I woke up the next morning and began to get up for spin class, he got up and stopped me. Seeing him enter into my domain made me realize how serious the conversation was going to be. We began fighting about our most recent point of contention: the fact that I don't answer my phone when I am out and don't call during the day. Then it went deeper.

He was the brave soul who said the unspeakable. He told me that passion was our most binding trait as a couple, and though he still felt it burning for me, he had not felt the reciprocal from me in a long time. He calmly told me that if I wanted to give it another shot that he would do all he could to rekindle the flame, but if not, it was time to move on. I cried, but only a little, I said I couldn't bear to answer him that very moment, I was only sure that things had changed and I did not understand how I could love someone and yet still grow apart. He told me that either way, he was going to move out by the summer. So begins the long goodbye.

Throughout the day I felt heavy, no relief at facing the tiger, acknowledging his presence, just heavy. This is a sad thing and uncharted territory for us both. I love this man and he has done nothing wrong. He loves me and tries to make me happy. Something is missing, somewhere along the way we began to grow in different directions. How complexly sad to love someone and yet know that you are not supposed to be with them. What a wicked conundrum. I want to run from the pain, run from the tiger, run back into bed with him and into our shared life and never see a hurt expression or the piece of me being ripped right out of my heart. I would gladly fall on my own sword to save those I love an ounce of pain, but it is not fair to do that either. What happens now?

I pray that we can maintain the love and respect we have for one another as we begin to untangle our previously intertwined lives. I pray that we have the grace to be kind and gentle with one another. I pray that my best friend, the one I have found in him, can survive this twist of fate. I pray that I am strong enough to do what is right.

The tears I now am fighting back are distinct. Through all the ups and downs of the last year, not once have tears clouded my horizon. These tears are different, they are products of the deepest place in my heart, reserved for lost dreams and the excruciating pain of decisions that cannot be rationalized. These are from the mysterious and cruel land of love.

I no longer feel the urge to crawl into a bottle and hide. There is no more hiding to be done, the cat-is-out-of-the-bag and all I can do is try to face it with as much bravery as I can muster. It is so hard! It is so hard to feel these things! I am not a coward, but I do cower in the face of this storm. There they are! Ugh, I guess I should just expect impromptu bouts of tears from now on. No one said life was easy, you certainly will never hear me say it. Oh God, don't let me hurt him too much! That is my greatest fear, that is my greatest anguish. Dying dreams and hurting those I love. It is going to be a long winter, hopefully the sunshine of spring with heal hearts and brighten the horizon.