We watched Puss in Boots the other day. In case you are unfamiliar with the movie, Puss is a cat (who wears boots, hence the name) and apparently he was raised in an orphanage with his buddy, Humpty Alexander Dumpty. And to answer an eggcellent question from one of my kids: No, Shrek is not in this movie.
No point to me telling you all that, really, but I think that’s why I have eggs on my mind.
“All the King’s horses and all the King’s men couldn’t put Humpty together again.” I imagine the horses were doing most of the work, anyway, since the King’s men usually just stand around fucking with their IPhones.
In my life I’m having a similar challenge. Not an egg, but something just as fragile: my relationship with my wife and kids.
I fucked that egg up, big time.
Apologies don’t fix anything. Regret and shame have their place, yes, but don’t mend broken hearts. The damage is done. True story – one time when I was a kid, I got in trouble (probably for hitting my brother) and sent to my room. I decided I would “show” my parents just how mad they made me and I sat down and very deliberately and thoroughly destroyed one of my toys, a little city in a suitcase for matchbox cars and airplanes – tore it to tiny little plastic pieces, made it absolutely useless. Yeah, I sure showed them. Forty years later and I still make a mess of things given half a chance.
Today is a significant day. Our first date was on April 18th. For a while, it seemed like a big deal each time we made it another month, and we would send a card or candy or something on the 18th of the month to commemorate. “Happy 18th,” we would say. April 18th was extra special.
There is a long complicated story about how I fell for a fantasy, and somehow concluded that another person was more important than my wife. My therapist tells me that he sees it all the time, how easy it is to believe lies and use imagination to build up an elaborate ideal “other” that somehow seems more appealing than dealing with reality. (That is no excuse, I think he was just trying to tell me I wasn’t a total freak.) It was like any affair, very easy to fall for since there is no weight to it, no checks and balances, no reality to interfere with the fun and games. This person that I had not seen, nor even seen photos; (still haven’t, actually), a secret so-called ‘relationship’ based on nothing more than text messages and emails, and I was willing to not just break an egg but burn a thousand bridges and destroy the life I, no, we had built for it.
There were plenty of giant red warning flags, warning signs, friends telling me to not to fucking even think about it. I ignored them all. (see many prior posts: I am an idiot. A very stubborn idiot). I finally realized my mistake, but too late. As I said, I’m afraid the damage may be done, it may be too late to recover.
I’m not writing this asking for sympathy; I am responsible for the whole mess. I know what I want, but I’m only part of this equation, and do not have the final word in what may happen. Love is nothing without trust and faith. This is part of examining the consequences of my choices.
Tonight, on the 29th anniversary of our first date, I’m alone with a Netflix movie, a glass of wine, my thoughts, and my regrets.
Yeah, I sure showed them.