Too much love will kill you every time

Posted on May 14, 2009

My best friend just broke my heart – if I remember what it’s like to have a heart breaking -betrayal – confusion. I wasn’t ‘in love’ with him – don’t know how to do that. I saw him for who he was – broken by life’s battles, addictions and heartbreak, but noble nonetheless. He made me laugh and God help me, I’ve loved him in spite of all I knew about him.

An unlikely pair – the ladylike, useful,do-gooder and the cowboy grifter. It doesn’t even sound like a good title for a country music, tear-in-your-beer song.

I always knew I wasn’t to be Sadie – Sadie married lady with 2.4 kids and a safe little life. I did not come into this world to play small. Early on, I developed an attraction to dangerous men and larger-than-life scenarios. Always the thrill-seeker. No settling for less – I want it all.

The first time I got married, I run away to another state because I was only 17. I remember thinking of jumping from the car when we got to the town in the other state where we were to marry. I should have jumped. Six months later – it was all over – except that he was all angry at me – like I hurt him. I never understood that. I was honest that it did not seem like it was really working out between us. I said what I wanted out in the open. He lied – said he loved me, wanted me, then had an affair with and ex-girlfriend. Isn’t that talking outta both sides of your mouth?

That was it for me for sure….until the next one came along. Another high adventure into romance and matrimony. The first was a youthful mistake…this one a huge, raw, egregious error that lasted almost ten years and taught me lessons in pain no person should have to learn. I changed. My new rule was “if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em “. Men, I mean. If you cannot beat them at their games, play them better than they do. And I proceeded to do just that.

Monday’s guy was fair of face. Tuesday’s guy had a get-away place. Wednesday’s guy said he loved me so…Thursday’s guy had lots of dough, Friday’s guy was loving and giving, Saturdays’ blue collar guy worked hard for his living. But the guy I saw on Sunday, well he was nice enough – but I think he was gay.

Since one with all the requirements wasn’t forthcoming – I heeded the song, “If you can’t be with the one you love -love the ones you’re with. ” Plural.

Made sense and worked for a long time. I was careful to never mention one to another and since I had a ‘career’, I could always use business obligations as an excuse to not be available if I was tied up with another. Ouch – I can feel those who are men judging me already. Stop it. You ‘ole boys are the ones who taught me the rules of engagement.

Things were fine until some started looking for something more. Can you imagine the nerve? Them -looking to me for something more. That wasn’t in the rule book they’d handed me! I started breaking off entanglements. If they made demands – like I was their property, I was outta there.

I played the field again – serious with none. Make no mistake – it was not sex I was trying to avoid. I had no problem with yes or no depending on how I felt. It was their trying to possess me I wanted none of. Enough on my plate – no room for the angst, negotiations and recriminations that entailed.

Along comes what’s his name – a rather high placed official in government. Not the best looking one I’d had, but funny, interesting, intelligent and he understood that I did not want to be ‘attached’ to anyone. Figured I got lucky. Not until the tables turned and I started really feeling something for him did I find out he was married. Life is so bizarre. Just when I start to want anything more from anyone – I find out that will never happen. Oh he’d hint – after this or after that happened. . . Once, he got into a big fight with his wife and I was so damn noble – I told him to be sure about what he wanted to do. He chose all right – years later – and not me or her. T’was himself he chose . She didn’t get no prize. When the chance came in another place for advancement, he took her, but he’s still cheating on her. I handled that comeuppance pretty well – better than my friends handled breaking up with men they had been seeing for a lot less time. I just never really got seriously involved again. I withdrew what little was left of my heart and did not share it – suited me just fine. I was still interested in experiences – not commitment, you see.

Around a year ago, I bump into this cowboy who I was telling you about. Funny, we’re so different and still just alike. Rotten apples, the both of us. This guy had been one of everything. He’d been a rodeo cowboy and written country hits. He’d done comedy. He’d done all kinds of other jobs while working his way up in the industry. That didn’t impress me – but his humor and his heart did. I knew he was a grifter of sorts. He’d admitted as much to me once. Said he ‘kept company’ with some widow because it afforded him companionship and a better lifestyle -referred to her as his ‘mark’. Not being the jealous type, I cared less. He had to do something if I wasn’t around – why should he be lonely? I didn’t see her as a threat because of the many close similarities between he and I. We could finish each others sentences. I knew what he was doing – even if he was miles and miles away and I didn’t talk to him.I just ‘felt’ it. He could read me like a book. It was so ‘comfortable.’ All hot and heavy, then that and more intense.

I’ve sensed something coming. Damn that sixth sense that I’m cursed with. I knew it was her – but what do you do, eh? I don’t want anyone with me unless they are there freely.

Now, he’s so busy,so stressed & conversation is so civil. He’s too spineless to say a thing to me and I’m feeling disgusted with him. How can someone who was my anam cara – the yin to my yang – the other half of my soul have cruelly hidden this callous part of himself from me so well? How did I miss it? I want to feel all warm and squishy again or at least hurt -some feeling- but all I am is cold, numb & disgusted. I’m just the pieces of the woman I used to be. Too much love will kill you every time.

Last edited by katie on May 18, 2009, 12:13 am

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3 responses to “Too much love will kill you every time”

  1. Great. A lovely, raunchy, mischievous, devil-may-care style of writing. Kind of sexy, by virtue of suggestion rather than by boring anatomical details. Good stuff. The YouTube video was a great choice.

    When you hit "edit" you will see there is a spell checker as well.Errors are underlined in red. I spotted two.

    Now I think, having mastered YouTube, you should try your hand at Evoca.
    Visit http://www.evoca.com

    I would love to hear your tale delivered in your voice. I imagine it husky, but if it’s a giggly squeal, then we can… try images.
    I can help you with Evoca.

    I’m thinking this would be a great opening story. What it needs now is a few sequels….

    How about you meet up with a randy gnome, who has to stand on a stool to kiss you, and who demonstrates a strange curiosity about your chandeliers.
    Asking questions like; "What weight do they support?"



  2. In all of my life, I guarantee you I have never uttered a giggly squeal. Unfortunately, I even have a peculiar laugh. I told you before -my voice has no higher pitch than yours.

  3. I was looking at that opening page on http://www.evoca.com
    It sure isn’t very helpful to a newbie, is it?

    Let me put together a guide with how-to information. I think you would love it.
    Evoca, I mean.

    The artistic use of the written medium plus YouTube audio plus vocal audio opens entire new possibilities. Screenplay (video) is even more interesting. You’ve seen Karaoke, I’m sure. Imagine we as writers could put together those media into one whole…

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