The beginning of the end

It was early when the phone rang... ok not that early, but early in my world... probably around 7 am. It caught me semi-asleep, lying across the middle seats of my minivan, wrapped in a blanket as protection from both the early morning chill in the air, and the bumps and ridges of the bucket seats. No, I don't normally sleep in my van... I was waiting for my daughter to return from her cross country practice, which had gotten me out of bed at an hour that doesn't even exist in my world.

I answered the phone blindly, because my far-sighted eyes can't read the screen, and I was too out of it to search for my glasses on the van floor.

I almost didn't recognize the voice, but I should have. It was a voice that used to be more familiar to me than my own parents' voices, and one that I never expected to hear again. A voice that for a long time... years actually... was the crutch that got me through my days. Until suddenly it wasn't, when his tower of lies collapsed on him.

And then its absence was a constant reminder of what was gone. It became constant self-lashing for the stupidity that led me to trust someone who was so clearly not worthy of that trust. It caused me to doubt every relationship and my own judgement. Where I always knew I was a good judge of character, suddenly I had learned the opposite. Days of self-recriminations led into months of it. Depression. Desperately missing someone who so clearly didn't deserve a thought, but managed to show up in almost every one.

A few friends stood by me, listening to me lash at myself and him. Providing shoulders. Urging me to trust myself... to trust my ability to read people.

An ability that I deeply questioned until I finally admitted the truth to myself: I had believed what I wanted to believe rather than what I saw. The signs were all there... I had seen them, but I chose not to look because I didn't like what I saw. I didn't want it to be true.

So now, the voice was back. Now, 16 months after the collapse, I was once again hearing the voice that used to be my lifeline. A voice I had worked so hard to eradicate from my mind.

Ten months post-tower-of-lies-collapse, I emailed him a letter of closure and forgiveness. After all, forgiveness is really about healing yourself, gaining closure on the hurts of the past, and allowing yourself to move on.

But even though I had said my good-byes, I had never really tested them until I heard his voice again. That voice, saying that he missed me and thought about me every day... acknowledging that he had not treated me right... apologizing. Saying all the right things.

And you know what? It was ok. Because my neediness is gone. I can hear him and hear that old friend who I used to enjoy talking to, without feeling like the little needy girl who couldn't take care of herself, and without falling into his trap again. I don't trust him, but we also are not in any sort of relationship that requires trust. And we won't be.... I don't need him.

When his tower of lies collapsed, I thought it was the beginning of the end. I guess, in reality, it was just the beginning of a new beginning.