Chapter 40
The Eight of Cups advises that you walk away from a relationship that is not satisfying.
CAL
Not technically single? What the hell does that mean?
“I don’t understand.” I fight to remain composed. “Marci said you’d been divorced for two years. What do you mean you’re not single?”
I push back from the food and pick up my clothes from the floor. I can barely hold back the sob lodged in my throat. I was right to be skeptical of a relationship again. I had set myself up for another broken heart.
“Cal, please let me explain. Charlotte left me two years ago. We always had a rocky relationship. She comes from old Atlanta money and her family disowned her when she married a lowly policeman.
“The life she wanted was impossible to maintain on my salary. She met a tech millionaire and moved to Seattle to live with him. She started divorce proceedings before she left, and I was finalizing the paperwork when she was seriously injured in a car accident. The guy left her high and dry. She had a very difficult and slow recovery. I agreed to put the divorce on hold so that she could remain on my health insurance.
“She hasn’t signed the divorce settlement. We are arguing over stuff. I‘ve told her she can have it all but the cabin, and she still won’t sign. I swear to you this is the truth.”
I dressed while Danny was talking. He put his hand on my arm as I’m taking my keys out of my purse.
“Please, Cal. I have never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. I would never have started a relationship with you if I still loved Charlotte. That would not have been fair to you.”
He motions for me to sit on the sofa. I sit stiffly in a chair, as far from him as possible. How did I let this happen again?
“It took her leaving me and being served with divorce papers for me to wake up and grow up and realize I had no idea what it meant to love someone other than myself. I’ve spent the last two years figuring out why I was such a self-absorbed bastard (to quote Charlotte) and how to be a better person.”
I don’t say anything. I’m afraid of what will come out of my mouth. I don’t always fight fair.
“I read your book, Love Hungry. Right after Charlotte left, Biz tossed it on my desk and told me to read it. It helped. I took responsibility for my part in the failure of my marriage.”
I had written that book shortly after Paul and I divorced. When I fell in love with him, I thought I knew what it meant to love someone completely, wholly, unconditionally, and without reservation. I mistook addictive love and codependence for the real thing. When we divorced, I blamed him and laid all the fault for the failure of our marriage at his feet. After a lot of therapy and intense shadow work myself I realized that if I didn’t love myself first, I couldn’t love anyone else. That book is the story of my journey to loving myself.
One of the messages of my new book is that we are whole human beings. We don’t need someone to “complete” us. A partner is extra, the icing on the cake. But certainly not necessary for a happy and fulfilled life.
Danny looks crestfallen. “I had hoped that you and I were moving toward a commitment. A forever kind of thing.”
I stand up, keys in hand, and walk to the door. I turn as I open it.
“FYI the book didn’t help. You’re still a self-absorbed bastard.”
I slam the door so hard the glass in it rattles and one of the metal address numbers nailed to it falls off.