The Path to Enlightenment is a Bumpy Road

My husband was really easygoing, or so I thought. He didn’t like crowds or noisy people, and my group of friends had a party every week at one of the local establishments. He was a homebody, but it was okay with him if I went out with the gang, especially since I knew them long before I knew him. And when I say gang, there were always at least 20 or so, and usually somebody from out of town, too. Sometimes he would go with me, but he would always leave early. I would tell him I would be back at such and such a time, but of course I always had such a good time that I would call and say I was staying longer, and I would call again, and I would call…

Tonight (for the last time) the man I have been involved with said he was going to call me back after he finished whatever he was doing, because the sun was going down and he needed to use the daylight. Made sense to me, but I knew from past experience that he would never call me back, that he would find something else to do, that he would fall asleep, that there would be some excuse. I also knew, as happened again tonight, that when I let him know how I feel without that contact with him that he would tell me I was overreacting or devalue my emotions some other way. I wasn’t sitting here holding my breath, but sure enough, he didn’t let me know how he was, nor did he ask how I was, but was probably off getting sidetracked by alcohol that somebody gave him (he’s an alcoholic) and what he thinks is a good time. I was feeling lonely and empty without even that little contact with him.

Then it struck me hard that this must have been how my husband had felt all those nights, what must have been all those lonely, lonely nights for him, those nights when his wife had found something better to do and had gotten sidetracked, and when she always had some excuse to offer, and when she always thought he was getting hurt over nothing. After all, I always came home to him and I loved only him.

Grief overwhelmed me tonight, because I can’t apologize to him. I can’t talk to him and let him know I have seen the light. He left me six years ago. This Easter Sunday he killed himself. Not because I went out to party, of course; he had his own set of problems. Still, I am stuck with this anguish and regret and insight (enlightenment, if you will), and I cannot humble myself to him and ask his forgiveness. I cannot let him know how ashamed I am for my actions having been the seed for these feelings to grow in him.

Enlightenment is not New Age chants and crystals and Feng Shui. Enlightenment means asking the hard questions and being open to receiving the hard answers.

Last night's bizarre Freudian dream

I am almost too embarrassed to write this, but as long as I am searching for the truth, I might as well write the truth. After all, it was only a dream. But it makes me wonder what goes on in my head when I'm not looking.
I was talking to someone, a male someone who was a close friend, I think. I was in a reclining position, and as my pants were off, I reached down and brought up this very large penis. This is most unusual, as I am female. I was looking at this thing from the normal point of view of the owner of a penis. (I was also admiring it and enjoying how it felt.) My friend saw it, and he nonjudgmentally asked, "What is THAT? A penis?" I replied, "No, it's a birth defect." I was also bemusedly wondering, "If we took a tissue sample of this thing and analyzed the DNA, would it turn out to be X,X?"
Then the real-life alarm woke me up.