Finding My Soulmate, Part Five

When I left off last time, I revealed the roots of the confounding pattern I had of being with unavailable men. And I told you how diligently I had worked to transform the pattern, yet I was staring it in the face AGAIN, and this time, right out of the box after eight years of holding relationship at bay! Yes, I was in love with my email buddy, Rick, who was committed to another. The "funny" thing is that I had all the physical and emotional symptoms of being in love, yet this time, I did not have that vaguely guilty feeling that it was wrong that had always been present before. No, the feeling I had was not at all vague--I knew it was wrong to be having an affair with someone who was not available, but I could not seem to stop the feeling of being on a runaway train. It felt more like destiny than anything I'd ever experienced.

"NOT FUNNY!" I said to God In Me. This was not right. I tried to summon up the will to bail out of the friendship, but it was as if I were somehow bound to follow this thing out. Meanwhile, Rick and I continued our constant emailing and calling. I got used to the fact that there were times when I would have to wait for a reply, as he spent two nights a week with her (she lived in Colorado Springs and he, in Denver). Sometimes I'd hear from him while he was with her; sometimes, I did not. I did my best to detach during these times, yet I found myself less and less able to pretend that I was just a friend, and that of course he'd be spending time with his beloved and it was all the same to me. Finally, it hurt so much, I called a moratorium to our correspondence, and told him that I just needed some space. What a relief! It felt MUCH better to simply not expect to hear from him at all instead of hoping he'd manage to slip an email in to me while he was with her. Though I was happy to hear from him once I called off the moratorium--and I heard from him within minutes of doing so--I knew it was only a matter of time till something had to give.

Though I tried to be more aloof, my heart just simply would not let me. At the same time, I was feeling more and more conflicted. Our calls and emails continued to escalate even further, and "I love you" was how each of us always ended our phone calls. The rationale: Friends say "I love you!" All my close girl friends and I say "I love you" when we close a conversation, and Rick and I were certainly close at this point...nothing untoward about that, right? We talked about so much--hours a night on the phone. We emailed continuously--beautiful, poetic emails, and clever, mundane emails--long, long series of emails with many different "threads" going at all times. And always there was a spiritual communion going on. We were so closely matched spiritually, it was uncanny. In fact, I had not even believed a man existed that would be on the same wavelength with me in that way, and it was too, too exquisite to simply reject because he was "already taken." After all, we had decided that our relationship was just getting me ready for my true love, who was surely on the way. (Yeah. Right. Boy, oh, boy--I think we created a new definition for love being blind!)

However, the pain of being the "play girl" and not the one "stirring the pots on the stove" (see previous installment for an explanation), was becoming acute, and what I had tried so hard to deny was finally in my face in a big way, and refused to leave. At last, reality bit hard and I knew without a doubt, we had been in denial and that this relationship had to end. I could not be "the other woman" ever again. I would no longer dishonor the Truth of Who I Am that way. No matter how much it hurt, I needed to cut it off--or transform it. And before that could happen, both of us needed to be clear about what was happening. In fact, there were three of us that needed to be clear. There was another being involved who didn't even know what was going on.

On the night of November 6^th, 1997, I told Rick that it was imperative that we be 100% honest with ourselves, with each other, and with his girlfriend. I told him that we needed to back off and be just friends, and if that wasn't possible, we needed to cut off the relationship completely. More importantly, I told God-In-Me that I would give up my relationship with Rick, but I expected something really spectacular as a reward. You see, five years before, I had agreed to euthanize my beloved little boy dog, Buddy, who had been run over and was painfully clinging to life, and God had told me "I will never ask you to give up something precious to you without giving you a special gift in exchange." (Sometime I'll tell you that whole amazing story, but suffice to say I did, indeed, receive an amazing gift after I let Buddy go, interestingly, on November 6^th, 1992!)

Giving up my relationship with Rick seemed a huge sacrifice, so I said to God In Me, "I'll do this, but I expect a BIG damn gift!" And I got one, but you'll have to wait for the next installment to see how it was delivered...

soulmate saga, part five