Early on in my relationship, I made some decisions that have affected it to this day. With a lot talking things out, begging, (lol) apologizing, promising, forgiving, and just plain stubborn work ethic, we were able to work things out. We are still working things out. I am thankful I still have her. Good women are hard to find. Or maybe I was looking in the wrong places.
I had the most amazing relationship, with my soulmate. Everything seemed so perfect. It was love at first sight, we had an instant connection. As time passed we got to know each other, and we both kept marveling, “It feels like I’ve known you all my life. It seems like you… it seems like you’ve always been here.” We fell hard for each other very quickly. I was, and still am, convinced, she is the one.
Right after she had discovered what I had done, she was devastated, angry, and sad. It was like looking on helplessly as your eyes follow the trajectory of a beautiful Ming Dynasty vase falling to the ground. In slow motion.
A priceless, one-of-a-kind, masterpiece smashing into a million pieces. Alright, enough of the dramatics. It sucked. It was like taking your dog to the vet to be put down. Every day. For a year. I knew I had hurt her, and destroyed any trust the best thing to ever happen to me had for me. Sorry, more dramatics.
At first, it seemed as though she had blended the emotions of angry and sad into one miserable emotion. I earned every second of it, I loved her, and I was determined to spend the rest of my life making it up to her. I had to earn her trust all over again. It’s like locking yourself out of your own house. Your girl, your sweet little thing, normally almost always smiling, is now sitting despondent with a blank stare. Her joking and sweet demeanor has now been replaced with sarcasm and snippy tones. Every word she says, no matter what she is talking about, sounds like she is saying “Go fuck yourself.” The dreamy blue eyes I loved to stare into are now cold and sending daggers. How do I get my baby back? We blended our families together. Our kids were starting to bond.
As time went on, there were many late night talks. Once I lost her trust, everything I did or said was under scrutiny. Things that to me seemed inconsequential, were now placed under a microscope for discussion. Things, that if trust was never broken, would never get a second glance. Again, I had earned it. I had earned it all. I wanted so badly for her to forgive me, to see that I loved her and I was still the same person. I wanted her to know I really was sorry and that I would never betray her trust again. I kept saying to her, “You’re still my twin flame,” as she struggled between forgiveness and remembering.
This was the way it was until she found it in herself to forgive me. She had to be ready and there were and still are times where she questions that decision. She had to recognize that we had a lot worth saving. She had to be ready to do that. One thing I learned, which is going to sound very common knowledge, intuitive, is that the person whose trust is broken is the one who has to give the green light to the healing process. The person whose trust is broken is the one who decides the pace. What I learned is you can’t forgive yourself for them. She had to decide to forgive. Back to the Ming Dynasty vase… There we were, here we still are, looking over all the pieces and trying to put it all back together again. Every piece has to be accounted for, and put back perfectly in its place. This masterpiece is back together, but it will never be the same. You can see its original splendor, but you can also see the glue in the cracks. It is whole again, you can see that it was once perfect.
We are still working on it. I will work on it the rest of my life.