So, things got really weird around here.
Friday and Saturday were phenomenal. Rider and I took our trip and had a super-fun Friday night with margaritas and motel sex, and a romantic, touristy Saturday day/night visiting a museum, an old graveyard, a drag show, and a wide variety of bars. He gave me heart-shaped chocolates. We snapped selfies and tottered down the streets holding hands. We then napped on the beach until we were sober enough to drive back to the motel. We were out until 5:30 am!
Sunday morning, I received a bit of stressful news that put a damper on the rest of the day. Rider and I had originally planned to spend Sunday afternoon exploring the city we were staying in, but between both of us feeling really stressed out and his sinuses acting up (despite having just finished a course of antibiotics), we decided just to head back after breakfast. We spent that afternoon and evening being the laziest people ever, just cuddling in front of the television, dozing in and out of naps. We finished that night off with some amazing kinky sex, at least.
Yesterday, Rider was very stressed out because of his impending conversation with Claire. He didn't know what all she was going to say to him. As it turns out, she had asked for advice from a variety of sources, and, according to Rider, she is finally ready to enact some (small) degree of change. Rider came to me after talking with her, all elated and walking on air.
The thing is, before she spoke to him, she had already requested off for the day of the event that Rider and I had been planning to kind of use as "proof" of her willingness to change. And I had drawn a hard line that I needed that proof. My first thought was "oh, that's really convenient, to be able to claim change without having to prove it." And then I realized that that thought was violating my own principle of trying to assume the best motivation, so I pushed it out of my head—maybe she asked for it when she was upset, and can't take it back now that she feels ready for change.
But I still had to decide: stick to my own hard line and force the break, or trust Rider (who trusts Claire) that things would really improve from this point, and so bend a little further.
I was mulling this over out loud to Rider, and one thought that came up was to offer "replacement events" as new proof: surely, if she's truly ready for change, it will be no skin off of her to agree to the replacement events. But Rider quashed that idea, not even being willing to bring it to her, and when I tried to pick apart WHY, he snapped at me: "If you're still not satisfied, just walk away then!"
I was really hurt. I'd given him something that was a bare minimum for me, and I was thinking out loud of ways to bend even further (later dates, different events) but still get the proof that I wasn't throwing good money after bad here. I felt like if he was that quick to banish me, even as he was fighting tooth and nail to stay with her, maybe I wasn't as important to him as he'd initially led me to believe.
He explained that he had compromised with her that he would be patient and accept that the change would come in time—that she agrees to be cordial to me if we run into each other, but that arranging something new would be upping the ante. He apologized for snapping at me, but said that he's done everything that he can possibly do, and he thinks it's reasonable for her to ask for patience. And, you know, maybe it is. Maybe it's just a "cried wolf" situation, where she has said "I can change, just give me time" two times already with no intention of doing so, and so now, when she actually means it, it rings hollow to my ears. I don't know. I guess it's a good sign that she asked for advice.
In the end, I did not instate the break. If that makes me weak, so be it. It's not so much that I believe her, but I believe that RIDER believes her. And I trust him. And I love him. And as maddening as it is to me that the hard part actually isn't over yet, when its end seemed tantalizingly within reach, I am willing to use that trust and that love as fuel to keep me going while I play another game of "wait and see."
Hopefully, the drama-free days will stack up one by one. Hopefully, I am not throwing good money after bad here. Hopefully, she's telling the truth, and she can either find the strength in herself to make the change and stay changed, or if not, Rider can come to see the lack of truth or the weakness or the backsliding.
I still feel a little stung from his words last night, though he has apologized and besought me to forgive him and stay. I told him that when he lashes out at me when I am trying to decide whether to leave, it makes staying feel less than voluntary—like it makes me the bad guy if I have to leave to do what's best for myself. It makes me nervous that, twice now, when I have been at my lowest, my most scared and questioning, he has snapped at me, when that would normally be WAY out of character for him.
He has asked me what he can do to help me, and I told him that he could do four things:
1) revisit my list of minimums and see if/how they match up with his compromise with her;
2) handle on his own the identification of any opportunities for "proof" or indications of trouble, so I don't have to think about it anymore;
3) write me a letter telling me where he thinks things stand with us, and where he thinks they're going, so that I can make decisions and keep my eye on the prize instead of getting anxious about the past;
4) just be with me, together in the moment, as much as possible, so that we can connect to each other in the clear, genuine way that we'd been used to—no stumbling around these weird stalactites and stalagmites of building up stress, suspicion, miscommunication, etc.; only pure, straightforward, in-the-moment, one-on-one heart connection.
In my own response to that conversation last night and that lasting stinging, I thought about what I would have liked for him to have done instead of snapping at me, when I was questioning and feeling down: I would have liked him to show me empathy and support. So, maybe what I should do for him is just show him empathy and support, even when I feel uncertain and sort of cornered. Turn the other cheek and all of that.
I wrote him a message that said this:
I appreciate the fact that you've been trying so hard to find a solution that works passably for everyone, even when things have been so diametrically opposed that working WELL for everyone isn't possible.
I understand that as hard as this whole thing may be on me (or on Claire), it is likely doubly hard on you, because you have twice as much to lose.
I am proud of you for deciding what you want and working toward it, and I recognize that it's a struggle that you will need to rest from at "plateau points" here and there along the path.
I respect your willingness to compromise in order to keep a meaningful relationship going, even if it is not something that is making my own life easier. It speaks well to your sense of commitment that you are not willing to abandon something without a degree of struggle.
I trust you to always act in accordance with what you think is right and to try to proceed without hurting me. I am learning to trust that you will make the best choices given the information that you have, and that you will know when the degree of struggle is too much.
And most of all, I love you. I accept you for who you are, even when I feel like I need to shine a light on things that look like they could use some thought and attention. We are all beautiful, flawed creatures in some way, and I hope that I always make you feel supported and never attacked. I hope to be able to attend to your needs and to nourish your soul, even more so in times of stress than in times of ease. I hope this message helps with that.
And I left it at that. I'm interested in co-creating the healthiest relationship possible with him, and I will admit that I am struggling pretty hard with knowing what "healthy" looks like anymore. Is it keeping my hard line in place to avoid opening myself up to further drama, thus walking away and letting him come back to me in his own time, if ever? Is it bending more to accommodate the possibility of coming change? How long should I be willing to wait for change? How worrisome is it that he snaps at me when I'm at my lowest? Is it weak or unhealthy to throw more love at him when he does snap like that? Or is it compassionate and with a long view of where I want things to go with him?
I've had only poor relationship models my entire life, and I thought that he and I were building something perfectly open-hearted, perfectly honest, and perfectly loving, with good communication, a policy of trust in place, and enough independence that we would neither subsume nor destroy one another. But it seems as though we somehow veered a bit off that course, and I'm not sure how or even WHETHER we can get back.