[Black Friday]

On the drive home from Grandma and Grandpa's in New Carlisle, Ams asked me, "What is it about Mandy that makes it hard to move on?" I'll be honest: I had an idealized picture of life at her side, pretending that once I got to Wisconsin, or once we got married, those "issues" (such as me not feeling like a priority, and feeling that I wasn't respected, appreciated, or loved) would fizzle out. The reality is that such issues aren't resolved by marriage but intensified. We are who we are, and expecting someone's characteristics to change is fantasy. The love I had for her regardless of the issues was a love like no other I've experienced: I came alive, knew myself again, and burned with a fierce desire to protect her, nurture her, cherish her, serve her; in short, to die for her. I remember quite well the excitement I felt to be with her, the pride I felt in being her "chosen." The love I had for her, that was a fierce, unquestioning, and relentless love. "That's not the sort of love most people experience." The love we shared, at least on my end, was a kind of love you don't easily forget.

Things with Ashley are tense not least because of the issues I've developed as a consequence of Mandy's actions: I just don't seem to be able to open my heart; it's as if my heart is on lockdown mode. But what if the problem isn't due to any speculative "issues" but because my heart simply remains glued to Mandy. I think of her when I wake up, dream of her when I sleep. There are sprinklings of impressions throughout the day: her eyes, and her laughter, the way she would giggle. Memories can assault me at any waking (or sleeping) hour. There's still a lot of pain, and a lot of regret: regret for all the things I said and wrote from a wounded heart, a heart clouded by grief and anger, words spoken in a state of being helpless and homeless. What if I can't invest with Ashley because my heart is still invested, against all reason, in Mandy? I put so much trust and investment into Mandy, and it's exhausting for such trust and investment to be torn down. My heart is exhausted. You can't plan on the heart, and the heart wants what it wants; but damn if I don't wish I could control it.

It's only been six months since I lost the woman I loved, since I was robbed of my future with her, since all my plans were demolished. With such investment, with such a fierce love, am I naive to expect enough time has passed for me to even be able to invest? Amanda told me, "It took me two years to even get to a point where I could love someone other than Josh, and there are still days when it makes me sad to not be with him anymore." Yes: it's only a matter of time. Those women who hurt me the most have been forgotten with time. Time isn't on trial; what's at stake is the length of time my recovery will need, what "moving on" requires, and has that time passed? I think the answer is clear in the words that I write: obviously not. Jessie told me, "You can love two women at the same time, albeit in different ways." She's right: I'll always love Mandy, in some form or another. She's hard not to love, and she's been such a HUGE part of my life for the last several years. She was my best friend. Behind the anger and pain, love remains, and it is precisely that love which fuels the anger and pain. The haunting question is whether it's immoral (in the sense of cheating or infidelity) to be with someone in reality while your heart belongs to someone else? Is it wrong to be someone's partner when you're incapable of being a good and devoted partner, the sort your partner needs? These questions, they tear at me.

I feel that I am in a place where I'm incapable of making the sort of commitment Ashley wants. Don't get me wrong, no one's even begun talking about the M-word. We're both wiser than that. But there gets to be a point in dating relationship where things step up a notch; they get a little more serious. And Ashley, I think she's sliding into home plate, far as that's concerned. She's adamant: I have her heart, she's falling in love with me, I mean so much to her, I complete her, life has never been better, she's never known so deep a desire for someone, she can't imagine her life without me ("Hey! Those sound familiar!")... The list goes on. It concerns me, because she hasn't had time to make those conclusions responsibly. We're simply dating, getting to know one another, and we've only really known each other for about two months. That's nowhere near the amount of time you need to get to know someone and responsibly ask, "Is this someone who would be a good partner?" I'm not at that point, and I can't tell her the things she tells me; and the more she tells me those things, the more scared I feel: scared because of how fast this is going in her mind, fear because there are no guarantees. I don't want to hurt her, and this fear feeds the pressure to determine now whether I see a bold future; because if I don't, then I need to end things to prevent hurting her worse than I otherwise would. But I'm in no place to know those things, so it's a losing battle. We talked from the Get-Go about how I needed and wanted to go slow, but I feel it's going the opposite of that. 

Ashley really is great. She's so loving, selfless, and compassionate; she's resilient and courageous, downright inspiring; she's an amazing mother who sacrifices so much for her children and often receives only grief in response; she's sensitive to my needs, always striving to know me better so that she can love me more; she's funny, intelligent, and fun to be around. And she's a strong Christian woman who yearns to be led by a strong Christian man. That makes me wonder if her love and desire for me isn't because of me but because of what I stand for: the kind of man she wants. Having been married before, she knows the qualities she wants in a man, and I have lots of those qualities; she wants someone who treats her well, and I do; she's had lots of experience with men and in a simple compare-&-contrast sees that I have the rarer qualities. My character and qualities, albeit chipped and flawed, may be what she's eager to hold onto, knowing that men like me are hard to find. And then sometimes I wonder if she's looking for her own sort of redemption in me; maybe she's looking for the man who can be a good husband and a good father to her girls, redeeming her life and the lives of the girls from the wasteland John made of it. 

But I can't be her redeemer.

I can't be her savior.

I can't be her fixer, and I can't be her healer.

That operation lies in the realm of Christ.

I'm a shitty redeemer, savior, fixer, and healer.

(I tend to mess things up worse than they were)

"Don't run from Ashley just because of Mandy," Amanda told me. She said she'd support whatever decision I make, but I know she's vouching for Ashley here; or, rather, she's vouching for Ashley and me, since she can see in ways that I can't how great Ashley is for me. She's spent a lot of time with Ashley, even one-on-one, and she's come to know, respect, admire, and see Ashley for the beautiful, strong, and heroic woman she is. I'm going to be talking with Ashley about these things; perhaps that will help me find some clarity. In the meantime, thank God this blog is private, because I really just bore my soul out.

And I bore my soul for you, Blake. 

Only for you.

(literally: my other two readers dropped off)