I could tell in the days after his revelations - even through our limited electronic interaction - that something had caught up with the married man. He was scared. Maybe that is too strong of a word. It wasn't really fear. Not yet. But he was definitely concerned to find out if I was headed down the road to vengeance. Because he could see where it ends: noplacegood.
But for some reason, I have no interest in walking that path...
Would I be justified if I decided to head down the road to retribution? Sure. Of course. It's practically expected. They make movies about this shit. Romantic comedies with slapstick hijinks and Nair in people's shampoo. And darker more obsessive films with slit tires and murdered pets. The scorned lover is a cultural phenomenon.
I guess I'm just not that cool... I don't have the time or energy - or frankly the creativity - for that kind of negativity.
My ex tortured me until I took credit for the demise of our marriage... Because I was selfish. And a terrible wife. And selfish. And emasculating. And did I mention selfish? And then I put it together that he had a little girlfriend and was just too much of a coward to admit it and leave peacefully.
Even then, the last thing on my mind was vengeance.
I packed up all of his things. I took special care of his guitars and records. I put all of his important documents in a waterproof case. And I had my parents hold on to the few things he had in storage in their garage, instead of smashing it all like my dad wanted to do.
Because who does that serve?
I did have one small fire over Christmas. My sister had made my ex a stocking just like the ones my grandmother made for us when we were born. A tangible symbol of his place in our family. We found it when we took down the tree at our mom's house. And we burned it in the fire pit after toasting marshmallows and drinking tequila. He wasn't a member of our family any more...
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| You can almost smell the Christmas Cheer. |
But that was just cathartic.
I guess that is the point: I always am more worried about moving myself forward. Learning my lessons. Sometimes helping others learn theirs, sure. But never stooping low. I get mad. I get hurt, deeply. I get disappointed. And I feel every inch of it. But I process quickly and move on. Because you cannot find a solution when your rage blinds. And finding a solution is really what I am all about.
Does that mean I turn the other cheek? Sometimes.
Sometimes I put myself right back in the way of that speeding train. Because I often don't realize I am walking the same tracks. This riverbed looks nothing like that rail bridge! Bam! And sometimes - I'll admit - it's because I think that THISTIME! I'll get to be the one that sends everything off the rails.
It rarely works out like that...
Even then, I take my licks. I can't blame the train. I was standing on the tracks! Instead I give thanks to be alive. Figure out why it hurts the same. Again. And look for a better place to stand.
But why? Why do I focus inward when my outer world comes crashing down?
I saw a meme that said give blessings everywhere and thought, yup, that's me! My influencing style is inspiration (no joke, I took a test). My motto. My ethos. My cause is to make every moment my best moment. My goal is to do only the things that only I can do - to improve this world.
But that still isn't quite why.
Is it a backlash against the cynicism that surrounds me? Is it all wrapped up in my striving to be necessary and important to the people in my life? Because who needs a negative vengeful dick hanging around? Is it because I feel my empathy so deeply and I don't want to feel the reflected pain that my vindictiveness would cause?
Maybe. Yes. Nobody. Yes!!
The married guy said, when it was done, that he hoped I would skip past rage and dive straight into reluctant acceptance. But I truly wonder if I will even get to there? To the reluctance, I mean. Enthusiastic acceptance is so much more my style! It makes it easier to give my blessings everywhere. And frankly, it makes it easier to move on without regret.
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