I always know… this time I thought I was over reacting… but I always know when a relationship is ending.
It’s the patterns.
When we date someone we develop very specific patterns around our interactions with them. They only change when circumstances change. I’m sure if I wanted to I could develop a whole mathematical formula for it – looking at word usage, type and frequency of communication, and body language – but it would just formalize what my brain does a great job in processing for me.
Unfortunately I’ve never gotten very good at using this skill in larger group settings. It would be very helpful to watch the flow of power during a debate and see how people are responding. But then I’m not sure I’ve ever really tried. For some reason my brain reserves this skill set for relationships.
This time I was surprised.
I was surprised this time because I didn’t want this. Since last week when I felt the first tremors I was hoping that it was holiday stress. For days I tried to convince myself that was all there was to it. But I knew. Usually I’ve known for so long that it is only the formalization of what has become fact. This wasn’t that… this hurt.
But I was trying to talk about patterns.
We are creatures of habit and we love our patterns. Coffee in the morning, a glass of wine with dinner, how we address our significant other, and what we say when our children walk in the door. All these patterns of behavior make up the web of our lives.
I have a specific pattern for this blog – postings on Sunday, Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Last week I broke the pattern because of a migraine (three days long) – this week I promised myself that I would be back on track.
Today I wanted to talk about fruit flies and why I love genetics so much. But I can’t seem to ignore the pain I feel and how foolish I feel. Foolish because I let someone in, again. Foolish because I, of all people know, that everything ends. Foolish because I wanted so badly to believe that this wouldn’t.
There is no blame – it was an honorable ending.
So, I have work to do…. Stories and articles to write, worlds to create. But just for this moment I wish I could howl with the pain, and let it all out – throw things and beat my breast – and then begin to heal.
That isn’t me. It will lurk in the corners of my heart showing itself in fits and starts until like all things it too ends.
Thanks for listening,
~ Tess Anderson