He called me and asked me to come over. His
relationship
of the last few years was faltering. He wanted / needed to talk. We've
all been there. Just
listening
is a great gift to offer a
friend
at a
time
like this (there are no useful trite
answers).
"I don't know what to do. I feel her slipping away. I don't want to
lose her" he said. His
sadness
was palpable. I knew she must be
sad
too (she's also a good
friend
of mine). "I get it" I said. I did. I recognized the experience from
his
sharing.
But more than that, I recognized it from similar experiences I've had
in my own
past.
I've known more than a few couples who've been in the same situation as
them. What "situation" is that? Typically it's when a couple's
relationshipbegins
while one or both of them are experiencing loss, and provides comfort
(at least initially) to one or both partners. He had gone
through a nasty divorce he hadn't wanted to go through (it takes two to
make a marriage, but only one to take it apart). She had recently been
laid off from her
dream
job. Their
relationshipworked
well in the
beginning.
New company, with lots of hugs thrown in for good measure, can heal a
raft of ills. Then not so strangely, the
troublebeganafter a great deal of healing had occurred. You'd think
that would be the time the
relationship
would go into overdrive and thrive, yes? It may. But if it
doesn't (and theirs didn't), it's not atypical.
My take on this is derived from my own experience in similar situations
(we're not all that different, he and you and I): once the healing
begins
in one or both
partners
in a
relationship
which
began
with loss, that
relationship
is now no longer on the same foundation on which it was to
begin
with. It's a
paradox:
the more the
relationship
heals the
partners
in it, the more the foundation on which the
relationship
is based, erodes. Soon the
relationship
finds itself on shaky ground. It's not insurmountable. But it is shaky.
Very shaky. It's the
beginning
of a new dynamic which could make or (if not recognized
and confronted) fracture the
relationship.
From the moment he
opened
himself to me and
begansharing
what was going on with them, it wasn't hard for me to see what the
greater
issue was - but then again, it's always easier for an outsider to see
what's going on in a
relationship
when for the couple themselves, it can be as
clear
as mud.
I said to him "This is today. You've both come a long
way.
She's not here for
therapy.
That is to say she's not here for
therapyany more. She may have been, once. But that's all over
now. And the thing is even without changing any of the circumstances,
you get to choose if it's all over now like done,
or if it's all over now like a new
beginning.".
I could tell he wasn't hearing me.
Sadness
is never a good
listener.
Sadness
is supposed to cure being
sad,
and yet it never does (as
Werner
may have said). I had to
break through
to a more astute level of his
listening.
I pressed again in a lilting tone
"She's not here for
therapy"
using its hyperbole as a hook. I wanted him to hear it in a
way
which would reveal to him
the wayhe was being
with her: he was rooted in the
past
about her. And she, having been healed of her
past
by being with him (and how great is that!?), no longer
experienced him as a space in which she could grow. Talk about a
paradox!
Talk about being between
a rock
and a hard place! Talk about a
rough
dichotomy!
(it's certainly one I can
relate
to).
I
visited
him again about six weeks later. He told me they were still together.
"AND?
..." I said, leaning in and smiling. He told me the mutual
therapy
(and along with it, thatrelationship)
had ended. And where they were at now was enjoying each other as two
human beings
getting to know each other again newly, trying on what it's like to be
without a
past
with each other - which would be an
interesting
place to be in (as
Werner
may have also said) even though it may not be totally possible. They
were
re-discovering
each other as if they'd never met before.
"AND?
..." I urged again. He told me it was going well. He said it was like
they had come apart without actually separating (at least not yet), and
had then come together again and were immersed in a tender experiment
of taking it one day at a time,
living into a future
which was inviting without offering any guarantees. He said he assumed
this was typical of the
beginning
of any new
relationship
(and I liked
the way
he emphasized "new"relationship).
"Damn! That's
Big!"
I mused later in the evening, leaving his place and
driving
home.