Last summer, I was sitting at a patio bar having a Gin & Tonic talking with a relatively new friend. We were discussing our childhoods. We grew up vastly different. She had an outhouse until age 12 and an abusive household. I had a wonderful upbringing, with close relationships. But, the two of us have a lot in common. We both do not have our parents in our lives – my parents have both died, her mom died and dad is not a part of her life. We both are single – me via divorce, her via choice. She asked me two very interesting questions. 1. Are you angry? 2. Do you have a hole in your heart? She said yes to both and I said no to both. We talked for awhile about this. I could not stay angry at my ex-husband for what he did to myself or more importantly to my daughter. If I held that anger, I would have been stuck. I had to rebuild and live a life full of happiness. I was not going to sacrifice my daughter’s childhood to hold onto anger. When the judge ordered him to have no contact with either of us, we were free. The worry was not gone, but hope crept in and I finally felt I could do this. As far as relationships with other men, that was not going to happen. It took me seven years to even go out on a date. I will never be “all in” again with a guy, because I will never let myself trust like that again. I would not say I have a hole in my heart, because it is full of love for my daughter, family, and friends.

I got home and was in bed, reading a very depressing book about the German takeover of Leningrad.  It was told from the perspective of a young mother. I had to finish it, as heart wrenching as it was. About 3 am, I closed the book, done. Now, I really could not sleep. Between the images of war and the conversation on the patio, my mind was on overload.  The woman in the book, who saw her entire family die, was able to love a new husband.  My story, although deeply heart breaking to me, did not even compare. But is that fair to say? Pain, that is ours, will always hurt in a profound way.

My dad was one of the great men. He worked hard, played hard, was very giving, loving, and successful. At the age of 53, he had a wife of 30 years, six children, a new dream house, a beautiful cabin, and was set for early retirement in two years. My mom and he had the rare summer day alone at the cabin – one group had left and another was to arrive shortly. They played a game of golf, had lunch in “the clubhouse” (Northern Minnesota is not exactly ritzy. I am guessing the bill was under $15, which would have included drinks), and headed back to the cabin. My mom took the dog to walk the dirt road to check the red mailbox. When she returned, my dad had dropped dead from a massive heart attack.

I was 18, about to head off to freshman year of college. I had a new boyfriend and a great group of friends. I had no idea what was going to happen to boyfriend when I left, but we were young and unconcerned. So, after we went through all the stuff that goes with when a family member dies, off I went to college. No real time to mourn – just trying to be strong and get through each day. I knew lots of people going to the school, so making friends was easy. I jumped feet first into the social scene. The “at home” boyfriend was quickly forgotten, but I had not told him that yet. He was the only boyfriend that I ever cheated on, and I did it in grand fashion. I partied for the next four years, only as a good Irish girl could. I changed colleges, dumped the boyfriend, and lived the social life of a college student. Then one day – smack! I met the man I knew I was going to marry. I had not been all in a relationship since high school, but this was game on from the beginning.  No turning back, no cheating, fully immersed for the next 15 years.

When the marriage ended, I became solely focused on my daughter and work that I barely thought about men. Sure, there were a few flirtations here and there, but I was not ready to go out with anyone.  My mom had been sick on and off for a number of years, but last summer I knew would be the last. And guess what happened? I began going out – drinking and even dating. I was always honest from the beginning, that I could not do the relationship thing, but was happy to hang out. I was not dating but also not “not” dating. I was overwhelmed with my mom, work, and my life, that there was no time. But, a good distraction was ok!

After my mom died, the one guy I was not “not” dating and I tried to date, but it never worked. We hung out a lot, but just could never figure it out. It was frustrating, but kept my mind occupied. Then I started to go out on a few dates with someone else. That also stayed casual, and before you know, I am back to acting like my college self. Some hook-ups, random and with people I should know better.  I kept saying to my friends, “I should be a guy’s dream – just want lots of “alone” time, but no relationship. Why do they run for the hills when I say this?”

So, as I laid in bed, at 4 am, I have made a realization. I use guys as a way to not mourn. I make bad decisions and can’t stay with one because I need the distractions. I do not want to be alone with my thoughts or else I will have to deal with some major pain. I can’t be in a relationship either, because then I am too open, too vulnerable. I already am hurting and just can’t even add the possibility of more. Losing my dad, then my husband, then my mom is too much.

My answer to the two questions of if I am angry and if I have a hole in heart is still no, but my heart can’t open until the hurt has faded.