Secrets.

Over the past few weeks a number of people I consider close friends have casually mentioned they feel they, "Don't know me very well." They're not being insulting or hurtful, they are simply being honest.

Every where I turn I am reminded of mistakes I made because of my most recent relationship. Closing off and isolating myself from my friends and family remains a top contender for biggest regret. For the past year and a half, excluding the past month, I have stuffed my emotions, my feelings and the truth as deep as they would go and as far away as possible from my mouth. I have kept quiet and kept secrets from the people who I love, and who love me. Who can blame them for saying they don't know me?

From the beginning my recently failed relationship was about secrets. Secrets that ate away at me for two years. Secrets that chewed holes in the fabric of a relationship that had potential. Determined to not give up, to not turn away from the demons and darkness I identified in someone else I chose to lift up someone who was heavier inside than I was. I invested love, invested time and ultimately invested my whole person, self and soul in a black hole of a cause. Love, I thought, could heal everything, could patch a leaking roof and catch rats in the night. Love could keep the nagging questions at bay, love could save us both. Baby, sometimes love isn't enough.

Finding my footing in the past month has been difficult. Life has shifted like quaking tectonic plates beneath me every day. Each step has been laborious, though the sun shines a little bit more each day. I see now that this relationship forced me to be "the strong one"-- a title I have in the past taken great pride in possessing. The truth is I am strong. Though due to my rapidly failing relationship I convinced myself and everyone else I didn't need them, their hearts, their ears, or their support. Once I realized I had used my pillar of strength gig to keep everyone at a particular distance--far enough away to not notice the dilapidated house of a relationship I was desperately trying to keep from crumbling--I realized how badly I needed someone to repair me.

Courtesy of this breakup I have discovered (and I am sure there will be more revelations to come, though they may be too personal to share with the blogosphere) is that I have used my personal strength as an excuse to avoid vulnerability in platonic and romantic relationships. My strength has isolated me to an island within my own mind where coupled with my pride I almost cannot ask for help or ask for counsel.


Are his secrets to blame for the failure of this relationship? No. Am I to blame for how I reacted to his secrets? Yes and no. In my defense how I react to something is simply a reaction, how I chose to move forward and ignore those secrets were admirable. Does this make me feel better? Yes.

Did I know better? The entire time.