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Am I being punished?

I had this same thought the summer after I graduated. Had I done something so terribly wrong that I deserved to feel used, betrayed and manipulated? The following summer, in 2007, was slightly better. I had managed to pick myself up and heal most of my wounds. But one fateful evening in February of 2008, my phone rang. It was him. We talked for five hours. FIVE. I was in awe, and shocked, and pleased all at once. Was it possible?! Could I really get my friend back?

Weeks later I visited Dionne and saw him. We re-connected. A few months after that, I visited him alone. I was of sound mind, and fully capable of managing a platonic relationship with him. Even if we did slip up now and then, and regress back into our old non-relationship ways... I was okay with it. I understood the parameters of our friendship and knew that nothing more would ever bloom from seeds sewn so long ago.

But, as we had done before, our friendship began to intensify. In 2008 we were talking twice a week... then three times a week... by autumn it was every day. By winter it was every night, some mornings and gchatting while at work. There was New Years and Valentine's Day. There were our birthdays. He told me he loved me. And, I began to think "what if" and "why not?" It felt nice, and it was going well. And we were only three driving hours apart. And he was being so sweet and paying so much attention to me. And... And... And then, suddenly and without warning, it was over. Just like that. Over. The person he told me he "met" was actually a young woman who had been to visit him before. They had been e-mailing, and talking and building something long before he ever thought to mention it to me. Bits and pieces of an explanation eventually painted a picture of the truth for me. The WHOLE truth; not just the truth he wanted me to see. A nasty email was sent. There were two weeks of silent treatment. I broke the silence. Choice words were exchanged. And finally, there was closure.

But this morning I woke up weeping. I fell to my knees, in a bath towel and shower cap, begging for forgiveness, peace of mind, the ability to move on, the capacity to STOP THINKING ABOUT HIM. "Please! Please, please, please, please, please," I rocked back and forth. Never mind I would be late to work. Never mind the extreme highs God had given me in the days immediately following the bad news. I was deep in the valley. I am deep in the valley. It hurts.

And what is it, exactly, that I'm hurt about? Did I think that we really had potential? No. But, I so hoped that we would. I hoped that something magical would happen and make all of our differences manageable. Yes, he's Catholic and I'm Baptist. That's okay, right? No. We have staunch religious beliefs that neither of us are willing to compromise on. Yes, I will venture to New England for grad school, and he will stay in the South. Pah! Did I really think we would be "just friends" for 4+ years without one of us finding intrigue in another person? That's laughable. Honestly. He doesn't believe in pre-nuptial agreements. I do. He wants lots of kids. I don't. I'm a giver. He's a taker. And, would I ever fully be able to let go of the pain I felt so long ago from college? Or, would I always secretly hold him accountable for past mistakes, and leverage said mistakes in any argument of my choosing? That's no way to build a relationship.

He said he wanted to get away from everything that reminded him of his "college self". He said he has bigger and better plans for himself, and he knows that I will do great things as well. He said he handled it the best way he knew how to, and still I'm upset with him. He doesn't know what he could have done differently. I had the freedom to date other people and chose not to. He met someone who inspires him, captivates him, and he has fallen hard for her (quickly, I might add).

Don't I deserve the same thing? Well, I know that I do. One source of my frustration, however, is that he is able to find happiness so quickly with someone else and I have NO IDEA when I will find the same. I know that God has Divine Timing, but where does it say that we must suffer such heartache in the meantime? I'm aching! I feel like something was stolen from me. I feel blindsided and rejected. I feel alone.

About a year ago I wrote that I had "all the answers" for women who were desperate for a man. I knew exactly what to say to women who use the "boo status" as a backdoor to a relationship. Now, I'm looking at myself and I'm starting to feel pathetic. Is that not what I have just spent the past months doing, myself? Telling myself if I just wait it out, and remain patient, and give him what he wants... that he will come around. The truth of the matter is that you cannot settle for less. You have to demand - yes, DEMAND - the respect you deserve. If you want a relationship and he does not, then keep it moving. If he can get "relationship-like" qualities out of you without giving you an appropriate label, then why won't he? Meanwhile, while you're pining for him, and rejecting guys who seek to court you, he's out searching for a wife! He will leave you in the cold! And who will you have to blame?

This is not 100% my fault. He could and should have been more forthright and honest with me about this new girl. By the same token, was I not listening when he said "I love how fluid our relationship is... and that you're cool with it." Yes. I was present for that statement. He did not want what I wanted. No amount of patience was going to fix that. He told me he "wasn't ready for a relationship" which I believed. Somehow, this woman has managed to change his mind. I can't even be mad at that. He and I were not compatible. Maybe they are. Only God knows for sure.

When it occurred to me that I really wanted something more, and it wasn't something that he would be able to provide, then I should have moved on. I should have sacrificed my superficial contentment with our "situation" for the inevitable great relationship that I know God has in store for me. Even if it meant being alone. Especially if it meant being alone. I'm too good for this bullshit. I'm looking forward to the day I can say "I've cried my last tears" over him.

I will ask the Lord to grant me that privilege today, tonight, tomorrow morning... as long as it takes. I'm so over this! So, so, so over this. I can't believe I let myself fall back into this trap. I can't believe I'm obsessing over him like this. I desperately want to move on but can't seem to figure out how. I lean on my friends when I can, and then go home and beat myself up for making the same mistake twice. Anisa thinks I'm so strong, which I love. But, I have a secret. Strength, in my situation, involves: Weeping in the morning, applying my "strong face" with Mac blush, Almay eyeliner and nude lipgloss, praying often, laughing occasionally, heading home, and sleeping in a fetal position - tears streaming down my face - hoping that the night will last just a few hours longer to delay another painful morning. That doesn't feel like strength. It feels average.

Whatever. What. Ever. This is not the end of the world - just the end of a friendship. He was in my life for a season, and it's time to move past it. He already has, so really, there isn't much to even hold on to. I need to get that through my thick skull. This is over. It's over. The end.