Piece of My Heart

When I love someone I have a really hard time letting go, and what I've come to realize is that I never really do let go. Once I love you, I really do love you forever, and a piece of my heart forever belongs to you. I have loved multiple times in my life (and here I'm talking romantic love, not family love or Christian love but romantic stay-with-me-forever love), and each one of the men who I love hold a piece of my heart whether they know it or not. I've been thinking a lot about this lately, and have concluded that although I've tried at various times in my life to convince myself otherwise the fact remains that each and every one of these men has a hold on me -- a hold that I'm not sure is good or bad or just is -- and unless something big changes that, or me, I guess they always will.

There are four "loves of my life." No, I don't believe you'd know that from reading this blog. I'll bet if you've read long enough you could name three, but not four. There is one I don't believe I've ever mentioned here, at least not my love for him although he has made his way into a blog post or two.

So let's start with that mystery man, the one not mentioned before here, the very first love of my life. We attended high school together and dated for a long time (before J). He was the best, most wonderful, down to earth, smart, witty boy I had ever had the pleasure to know. I loved him as much as a teen girl can love her boyfriend. He said he loved me, but I don't know now if that was really so. We still have contact with one another on an occasional basis, but there has never been anything other than friendly banter between us via email. There never will be because he is married, presumably happily, and I will not step in where problems don't already exist. However, if he were to contact me tomorrow, tell me his marriage was over and that he missed me horribly and wanted to try again I would not hesitate since I am once again free. I have never shared this with anyone and couldn't even admit it to myself for a long, long time. I was so hurt by how he broke up with me in high school that I swore for years that he was nothing to me, nothing at all. What he really was was my very first love, the one I spent hours daydreaming about spending my life with, the one I hoped would be mine as much as I was his, the one who made a true success of his life, running his own business and living life on his terms. I am jealous of his wife, and I've never even met her.

The second man I love is, of course, J. J and I love each other in a way that I don't know others would understand. He drives me crazy when we're together too much, but on the other hand he is another imperfect human just trying to get through life the best he can. He and I both tend to need a partner whether or not it is the right one. Since he finally got to the point of wanting to get married he has spent little time single, jumping into marriage quickly after each divorce. I tend to be a bit like that myself, feeling the need to have someone at my side no matter what. I do think that our love for each other is real. I know mine is. I think his is too, but I could be wrong. Maybe he really is in it just for the occasional fuck when my resolve weakens, and we hook up (yes, more than has been mentioned previously on this blog).

The third man is W. It is my genuine love for him that has made splitting with him so terribly difficult. I do love the man even though he drives me absolutely batty with his crude ways and poor parenting skills and denial over having any faults at all. It is hard not to love a man who loves you unconditionally, who will stick by you even when you go absolutely bonkers, who will tolerate your worst behavior. It is hard to turn your back on him when he needs help, and goodness knows he needs help. He's being evicted where he's renting and is right now in the hospital following surgery earlier this week. My resolve to not let him back in the house is weakening, particularly since there is no other man in my life currently, with the exception of J, sort of, on occasion.

The fourth man, of course, is BJ. I love BJ. I wanted for BJ and me to work. I wanted it to be the relationship that would be for keeps, but it isn't. I know it isn't because it was too easy for him to let me go. It was too easy for him to say goodbye without tears, without remorse, without looking back. If he loved me as much as I love him it would tear him up to let me go the way it is tearing me up to let him go. As it is, he is just another man with a piece of my heart.

I wonder just how many pieces there are and if there are any left for anyone else. I think for the next couple of years the answer is that I can't give away another piece of my heart. For at least the next couple of years I can only watch out for #1 -- me and keep the rest of my heart safe from the perils of love.