Ok.... so I am in the grip of desperate ruminative OCD-based regret. Basically, I have had a horrific year, I have had a terrible time with a relationship. I fell madly in love with someone who turned out to have a serious personality disorder, and ended up being horribly emotionally abused. I have been to hell and back.
I can't chart the course of our relationship here, but one of the things that happened was that he suddenly - no warning at all - abandoned me. He refused to talk to me, refused to give me any explanations. From showering me with love and asking me to marry him, he suddenly treated me like his worst enemy. It was horrific. It went on for six months. He and I are now back in contact, but not in a relationship.
Anyway, last night I was going to bed, feeling pretty normal, and not too bad really, when all at once I remembered an incident from my past. It happened twelve and a half years ago, when I was in my early twenties. I met a man at a language class, and he asked me out. I found him attractive, but I was very shy with men then - I had no real sexual experience and was, I think, afraid of my own desires. He was an Iraqi Kurd, a doctor. I did find him physically attractive. He asked me out and we went on a date to a local pub. We chatted, and I liked him and warmed to him without feeling really 'in love'. As we were leaving he kissed me, and was very 'romantic', paying a lot of compliments etc. I remember feeling very much 'in a whirl' when I got home.
Over the following few days he bombarded me with text messages and calls, wanting to go out again. I had cold feet about it all, and wanted to meet him during the day, so that I could get a feel for him in a less obviously date-like setting. I suggested we meet for lunch, but he only wanted to have dinner with me and do 'romantic' things. He kept on at me, and I kept hedging. I didn't stonewall him, but I kind of kept him at arm's length.
Then one morning, only a few days after our date, I got an angry voicemail from him, saying he was really frustrated with me and my lack of commitment and responsiveness. I remember feeling upset and frightened, but also sorry for him. And then - this is the thing I really regret - I got my mother to call him and tell him to leave me alone. I really, really wish I had not done this. She told me later that he had said to her that he didn't want to upset me and he only wanted to be my friend. This really cuts through my heart now. She also said that at the end of the call he said to her to tell me that he wished me all the best in life. I never heard from him again.
For twelve years I didn't really think any more about this. I didn't see it as a major trauma, and I didn't think about how I must have made him feel.
I don't feel bad because I think I lost the love of my life. I don't think that he was, and I don't think that he and I would have made a long-term relationship. I feel bad because I think that I was cruel and insensitive. I didn't know then how much it hurts to be ignored by someone. I wish I could turn the clock back. If I could, I would ring him up and say that I just wanted to be friends, see him sometimes and see where it led to. I would not have ended it like that.
I feel obsessional because I don't know what happened to him, where he is, or how his life turned out. I can't trace him, and even if I could, I don't know what I would say to him after twelve and a half years, and one date! He may not even remember me. I expect he is married now.
I feel so guilty when I think of him saying he just wanted to be friends. I don't think that it was true, or he would have agreed to have lunch with me, but still I feel awful. I think that having had my heart broken, for the first time in my life, last year, has taught me a lesson about respecting other people's feelings. I wish he was still in my life as a friend.
I try to comfort myself by thinking that maybe it was all for the best. He was very pushy and possessive and he did frighten me a bit when he got angry. It's possible that it might have turned into a bad relationship. Perhaps I was just listening to my feelings at the time. But I think he did genuinely like me. I'm sure I hurt him. Then again, I think, well, if he really liked me, he would have waited a little while and tried again. My mother wasn't angry with him, she didn't tell him to stay away or else, so he might have approached me again if he had wanted to, and he never did.
Anyway, I am in a horrible obsessional loop with this. I know that I am probably projecting my pain over last year's relationship on to this thing that happened so long ago. But I feel so guilty I don't know how to cope. It's hell. He was really nice, just forward and pushy, which was probably down to cultural differences. I was, at that age, very timid around men and maybe a bit prudish, scared of men and so quite ready to find reasons to write them off.
I had all this grief bubble to the surface last night. I couldn't sleep, I sat crying for ages. I said a prayer for him and asked for forgiveness. I know that this is probably projected from the pain of being abandoned myself (in a far worse way than this). How do I forgive myself and accept what happened?
Thanks for reading. x
Reply With Quote
