As soon as I sat down to write this my phone rang. It was my soon-to-be-ex-husband. He sounded sad.
I'd hesitated to even pick up the phone when I saw the phone number calling. I am told that I am boundaryless, and I am. This particular man's problems, and there are many, are not mine any longer. Some of them never were. I left him so they no longer would be. Yet when the phone rings, and I know what's coming, what runs through my head is, I can deal with it now or I can deal with it later. Not, just don't deal with it.
Maybe just not yet.
We talk for awhile, and it's true: He is sad. He needs some love.
Sometimes it happens this way and sometimes it doesn't: I stepped up to the plate and supported him, gave him a pep talk for half an hour and listened and coached. Just before we said goodbye he was smiling, I could hear it. I hung up and cried. He is having very hard times.
The truth is, I had enough love to share. I felt extra love today, and lately I know I have been running very low. Today I was able.
Yesterday I sat nose to nose, leg-over-leg, with a man I used to call mine. With a man I so wanted, want, wanted, to be mine. It is still with me.
So I took my still-warm glow and shared it with that other man I used to call mine. What on earth is my therapist going to do with this?
So even though this man who I sat with yesterday isn't mine, and will not be mine, yesterday he was here and tonight I feel fed.
I feel closer.
