We base relationships on different things. We all do. At least in my opinion I believe that we do. I would venture to say that some relationships may even have a healthy dose of pretense. She pretends he isn’t too small/too big (there) and he pretends she isn’t too big/or small (there). He pretends to like her cooking, she pretends to like to cook. She pretends to like his friends and family, he pretends to like hers. A healthy relationship built on a foundation of lies. Would complete honesty about physical shortcomings make for a better relationship? Would one half like to hear the other half listing all the shortcomings? “Hey honey, I hate your ears, they stick out too much and I think it makes you look kinda elephanty, and your ass looks like it’s grown another ass. Oh and if your tits fall anymore you can maybe invent some floor sweepers to attach to them, no sense in letting a good walk to the fridge for another piece of pie go to waste. Oh and honey I just can’t get enough of your crazy family.”
I’m past my prime, still hopeful that the pieces will come together and the puzzle will be complete. I don’t want to know the truth, well at least not the truth spilling out of his lips. I know all my physical shortcomings, I know all of my other shortcomings. The ones that have nothing to do with the outside, but the inside, the inside of my head and my heart. I’m not perfect, not in any extension of the word. I’m not a perfect mother, I never made for a perfect wife or friend. I can’t even aspire for perfection, it isn’t an ideal anyone should put on themselves. It would be setting myself for more failure. I’ve failed at enough I don’t need to try to drive myself crazier by thinking I could improve on what I think is already okay.
I naively used to think love was the most important aspect of a relationship, boy how stupid can one person be? In my new-found wisdom I can say trust trumps love. If there is no trust, there can’t be much of anything else. A foundation of trust needs to be built, once broken it is damn near impossible to repair it. I say damn near impossible, but not out of the question. I’m still hopeful, I’m still in love. Hope is alive. In me.
Trust can be broken in so many ways, someone leaves, someone lies, someone snoops, someone stalks, someone reveals intimate details to others. Rebuilding that trust takes tearing down the offending party and digging in, ripping the insides out and stomping all the bad out. Someone can’t be there when it matters the most. Putting everything back together gets tricky.
And on that note I’m checking out…meds have kicked in…so I’ll continue later, later.