My affair with chaos
I was in an open relationship. Except not really. Except not at all. I was an affair.
We met at a bar on a beautiful sunny California day. I was visiting and he was charming. He told me about his life, his new found unemployment (he told me he had taken a package from his old company to move on to his own thing. Package equals severance. Severance equals fired), and his marriage. He and his wife were "happiness seekers", "lovers of life". He would relay stories of the parties they went to, the activities they partook in - avid runners, foodies, and partiers. He casually mentioned their open marriage, but not in a way of asking me to participate but instead, simply relaying something that was commonplace. The open marriage was more on her end than his, but he didn't seem to mind much. It sounds shocking to retell now, but hearing it wasn't as much. It was so normal for him and I was so fascinated by it all. It was a life I hadn't experienced, one I wouldn't want, but one that peaked my curiosity.
When I returned to Ohio we kept in contact. One day his wife found a photo of me on his phone (clothed photo. Important to note. Clothed photo). She was curious and asked him questions. He told me their discussion revolved around their "open marriage" and just how open it really was. It turned out his side was more closed. She didn't like him exploring other options. He and I stopped talking......momentarily.
I resumed my hamster wheel existence - wake up, go to work, go to yoga, go home, Netflix, sleep. The chaos of the past few years had died down. I was settling into a routine, albeit one I wasn't enjoying. I was knee deep in my life timeout, bored and unhappy.
A few weeks passed and he called me. The conversation was neither noteworthy nor memorable. He stated he liked talking to me and I assumed being 2000 miles apart would prove harmless. We would spend the next 4 months talking, occasionally seeing each other, and more talking. He was a troubled soul. Combined with my restless soul we made for the perfect storm. He would often call me intoxicated, desperately needing attention. Desperately needing love. I identified with his sadness, with his feelings of being lost, with his unhappiness in his current relationship. I told myself I was helping him. I made so many wrong choices when I was in my relationship, right up to how it ended. I wanted to pass this on, a "what not to do" guidebook. But the truth is, I like chaos. I understand it. I'm drawn to it. It's the dysfunctional persons comfort blanket.
It was one of the things he and I had in common. This isn't to discount the connection we had, it was a powerful one. But chaos, chaos was our foundation. Insecurity our house. He was so miserable, but with a facade of happiness everyone but me and his therapist got to see. He was spinning out, something I'd only recently done. Only I was too scared to recognize one very important factor - I wasn't spinning any longer.....I was hiding. I grew up in chaos. I understand how to not only survive in it but thrive in it. I didn't love being back in the midst of drama - especially someone else's, but I was craving familiarity. My life timeout was progressing and I was paying down debt, repairing friendships, and determining my next steps. But I was scared and nervous and doing some self - sabotaging. If I proved to myself I was the same person I'd always been then it wouldn't be a failure if I just remained that girl.
One day he called to tell me his wife found out everything - the visits, the emails, the phone calls. I was sad. I was upset. I was........relieved. It was interesting how quickly I was able to separate myself from the situation. I liked the chaos more than him. We never spoke again. I was free.
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I would love to use my youth and naïveté as an excuse for all of this, but it occurred in the not too distant past. My path to health and love hasn't been an easy one, a major hurdle showed up right at the end. But I made it over. His dysfunctional relationship helped me realize my own - my job. His intense fear of change reiterated my love of change. His "open marriage" put the nail in the coffin on ever wanting that for myself (it's currently listed on my non negotiable list right above "using the bathroom with the door open").
I made a mistake. I hesitate to call it a necessary mistake because I wish I could have learned those lessons another way. But as with most things in life I chose the harder and more complex path.
I recently started dating someone. He is the antithesis of chaotic. He is relaxed, thoughtful, genuine. I was walking down the street the other day and caught myself smiling, feeling calm, feeling happy. There are certain things in my life that aren't exactly where I want them and certain things I look forward to changing and molding in different ways, but overall I am happy. Really fucking happy. Of course my first thought was that I was going to get hit by a car and lose a limb, go to work and get fired, or have my apt catch fire in the night. Is it possible to be this happy? I had to call a friend and ask if this was all normal. She laughed and told me it is. Holy shit. 29 years. I had no idea what I was missing.
Some days the happiness is easier for me to accept than others. Last week I called my boyfriend to let him know I knew he had another girlfriend, maybe a couple kids. He doesn't. But he remarkably indulged my questioning for 15 minutes. Then I gave up, started laughing and realized being happy was way more fun. I fight the part of me that wants to create a problem where one doesn't exist. I fight the part of me that is mistrusting and always looking for the lie, always looking for the way out.
I am happy. This is all new to me. I am learning. Only this time, I am taking the easier road.
The view is so much better.