I Don't Know Why

I’m sitting here on the couch watching television texting a new friend who asked when my birthday is. As I reply two things hit me: (1) that my birthday is right around the corner; and (2) that this day will forever live on not just as the day of my birth but as the day I asked her to marry me.

At the time it seemed like a good idea; to ask her to marry me on my birthday. It was Puerto Rico, our first real trip alone and it was my birthday. She’s very sentimental and would want me to remember the date I proposed. I too can be sentimental but I was fearful my bad memory would get in the way of my good intentions. So I concocted the bright idea to ask her in Puerto Rico, at dinner on my birthday. It worked. Two years later I can still say I remember. Even though I don’t want to, I still do.

It’s not the fact that I asked that’s the problem, because she did say yes. It’s the fact that 2 years after the proposal, 20 months after the engagement party and 8 months after I left D.C. without her, I still don’t know why things happened the way they did. When the question is posed, “why aren’t you together?” or “why did you break up?” it takes me a while to a formulate an answer before I mumble something and change the subject. Never is it “the answer” because I don’t know “The Answer” and it kind annoys me. Ending a relationship that you were in for the better part of a decade, barely speaking to a woman who probably knows me better than I know myself and whom up until recently I had never thought about spending a day without, is rough. It’s even rougher when you can’t put a finger on exactly why your world changed so drastically. We know why dinosaurs are extinct, why Rome fell and who framed Roger Rabbit, but I have no clue why she’s gone, why she left and why I’m here and she’s there.

I have tried to trivialize the lack of an answer in an effort to move on and move forward. However, I can’t help but want to know why. Part of me wants to know so I know how and where to file this mishap so I can lock it up and never speak of it again once I know the truth. Another part of me thinks that maybe knowing why will aid in the growth I’ve experienced since “the break up” in getting me to move forward.

Don’t get me wrong I’ve tried my damndest to move on. I’ve tried the usual suspects: drinking, smoking (cigars), music, sex, women, television and while I must admit I am in a much better place than I was 8 months ago, I’m admittedly nowhere near where I’d like to be. I’d like to be in a place where I don’t think about her every day, or if I do I can do so without asking that damn question “why.” I’d like to be in a place where everything doesn’t remind me of her and us. I’d like to be in a place where I’m not giving eligible candidates the stiff arm because I’m still not ready. But, I’m not there yet and I wonder if part of the reason I’m not there is because I don’t know why I’m where I am right now.

I’ve asked; she’s answered; but none of it makes sense. When the words leave her mouth it all sounds like Greek to me and I don’t speak Greek. How can I learn from a situation, grow and be better if I don’t even know the lesson to be learned? I know she’s doing her thing, living her life and probably enjoying it too. While I sit here undulating back and forth like a inner tube in the open ocean between being ok and nowhere near it. In her mind she knows why she walked away. She knows why we’re not together and that’s ok with her. Hell it was her decision. Me on the other hand, I’m at a lost for words, ideas and at times my sanity, trying to piece this all together. And it makes me sick. I hate feeling this way; helpless, confused, not in control. Especially knowing (or at least thinking) that the co-pilot on this crashing plane bailed out before you could because they saw it coming and failed to let you know before the plane hit the ground.

I’m in a place now here the thought of a monogamous relationship, that doesn’t involve her, isn’t all that scary. I still admit that I’m not quite ready, and this post perhaps serves as evidence of that, but I’ve gotten a lot better. I’ve been unpacking this emotional baggage as time has gone by and I’m looking forward to getting this last piece or two of luggage lost in the airport and buying a new wardrobe at my next destination. In the mean time, I’m going to live my life to the fullest and when an answer appears I’ll be sure to write it down, take a picture of it, make two copies and file it away. Until then it is what it is.