So, I'm reading this book on getting over one's ex. After revisiting my need to seek anatta so I can let go of attachment. I'm still in the process of remembering random things about her at random times. Like the fact she gave me her number on my parent's anniversary. I was in a casino with them before we went to Red Lobster.
Again, my memory serves me far too well. The next time I make a connection, I'm going to make sure there are more bad times to remember. Recalling all the good ones kinda sorta hurts. A lot.
Anyhoo, long story somewhat less so, I really really REALLY should've taken some more time judging said book by its cover. I foolishly assumed it was, like, you know, about getting over one's ex for anyone who is grieving and trying to grow. Being a simple country boy and all.
Uh, no. Not so much. Turns out it's about the manipulative strategies that men can use to try and keep their ex in a bad relationship. So, I dealt. I thought OK, strategies to learn.
Again, not so much. Talk of alcoholism and verbal or physical abuse. Threats. Safety issues.
Here I thought I was toxic. A monster. The opposite of civilization.
I was open, honest and supportive.
I knew what I had. Said so. And know what I've lost.
I did what I said I would.
I gave thoughtful, inexpensive (this is key) gifts on occasion; like when I went to Sacramento (booked before we were an item) without her and she gave me rides to and fro the airport, common courtesy.
I loved her and told her so. Okay, it was too soon, but I'm working on it. I'm in touch with my shit (I misted up at the end of American Sniper), sue me.
I desired and respected her. But I became too complacent and stopped attracting her. Which is apparently worse than abuse because it's predictable and boring. I'm lucky she didn't have me fucking killed, let alone not communicate with me.
Lesson learned. Okay, now I may be getting in touch with the Hulk Smash!