I've moved! This page should automatically redirect in 5 seconds, but if it doesn't, then click here.

4.12.2010

lot's wife


on our first date i wore a navy scalloped skirt. i wore makeup. eye-makeup. concealer, even, which would have been a great comfort to my mother.

and i thought, what am i doing? i was so nervous. but so damn excited.

i entered the restaurant and asked the girl at the front desk if there was a man waiting for anyone. she pointed to the other side of the u-shaped counter in the bar.

i exhaled. audibly.

i had met him only two nights before and while i knew i thought him attractive then, i couldn't remember what he looked like. i feared i wouldn't recognize him. wouldn't be able to pick him out of a crowd.

but there he was. sitting at the bar. and yup, he was cute.

and god i loved how i felt as i walked toward him.

i always loved how i felt walking toward him.

it was the walking away that was hard.

when i called to tell him that i couldn't do it anymore i tried to make it very clear that it was not that i didn't want to. i just couldn't continue in this fashion. and oh how i listened for the moment of hesitation on his side, for the moment that he would fight me. fight for me.

it did not come.

but i had his book. and he had my earring. and such things needed to find their way home.

i offered that he leave it on his stoop and i would carry out the trade. he said such a thing was ridiculous. we could get a drink. be adults about this.

but somehow the drink didn't happen. and because technically it was i who chose to end things, i swallowed this and accepted the short window he provided in which to do essentially what i had suggested in the first place.

i found myself swallowing a lot over the course of our brief courtship. and never failed to be surprised (even in how it ended) by the extent to which he could disappoint me.

my mother told me to let the earring go. to just let it go. ask him to put it in the mail, realize he probably wouldn't and make peace with that.

but the thing was, he had all my secrets. i'd be dammed if he got the earring too.

and so i went. and bumbled there at the bottom of his doorstep for about two minutes.

and then i walked away. and never have i understood the story of lot's wife so well. we look back because we want to know that we're not alone. and oh how i didn't want to be alone. but i didn't. look back, that is. i gathered every remaining shred of self-worth and dignity and walked away without turning around.

(and cried as i did so).

i know i did the best possible thing. the relationship was unequal and unhealthy. he was selfish and i was overzealous. he was not the right guy, and i was not the right girl. and so i walked away. and i didn't look back.

and yet i wished all the while that he'd come up from behind, take my hand, and say let's try just a little bit harder for just a little bit longer.

because for each of his flaws i have my own. i know this.

but he did not.

i lack imagination. in life, i mean. i can't ever imagine things changing. or meeting someone else. and yet i know these things to be certain--more certain than anything else. but my horse-blinders are big, dark and all-encompassing.

perhaps the thing to remember here is that in walking away from him, i am walking toward someone else.


40 comments:

Ruth said...

That IS the hard part, isn't it? I can dream and imagine and look with admiration on others' lives, but when it comes to my own, I can't see past this month, or this season. My horse-blinders are pretty big, too.

But you're right--I suppose moving anywhere forward at all is something. Thanks for sharing this.

Larissa said...

my position exactly. I know you can do it. You seem strong :)

Ross & Amanda Goodman- but mostly Amanda :) said...

I love the horse blinder analogy. So fitting. So true. So relatable for so many women. You know how to put things just right, and I love it.

RayRay said...

umm did you just write my story? Cuz i could have SWORN I have been in that very same place...

"he had all my secrets..." Isn't that the WORST?! you start frantically grasping for whatever tangible objects you can hold because deep down you know he still has a hold on your heart.

And wanting someone to fight for you... I totally get it. We will find someone who will fight for us, Meg. We will. We will.

you are lovely. Starting to feel very un-alone in this experience. thank you.

Brittany said...

that last line is so lovely. i wish i remembered that more.

Estee said...

BRAVO. meg you are...the loveliest. That last line speaks some serious truth. I am so inspired by your writing.

Madison Call said...

You probably hear this often but I would have felt guilty reading your blog one more time and not telling you how much I appreciate you sharing your stories of love, NED, life, and finding out who you really are in the process. Thank you for making me feel as if I am not the only one struggling to make sense of life and what it truly means. Thank you for sharing.

Rachel said...

I, also, lack imagination. In moments like these it is impossible that the world should go on, that my life should evolve any more beyond that one instant of raucous change. And then it does, and I think, "Next time, I'll remember this." For the brief window of about 10 minutes I am completely and utterly prepared for the next time the sky will fall.

But only about five minutes. I love reading your blog.

Claire Kiefer said...

This is a pretty incredible post, and one I need to remind myself of frequently. When you know he's not the right one, the strongest thing you can do is walk away . . . but it's so hard! Thanks for writing this out so beautifully; I'm sure it resonates with lots of us . . .

Julia said...

I know I've said this before to you, but I absolutely love your optimism. Thank for you being so optimistic, it helps me to be so, too.

xo Julia

Micaela said...

it is no wonder that in bible class even at a young age i felt sad for lot's wife, only to relate later in my 20's.

only you could put it in writing so beautifully woven with your heart.

last night i was reading "eat pray love" for the first time (can not get enough!) and her writing reminded me SO MUCH of yours. Someday i just know i will be reading a book by Meg Fee and it will be just as open and honest... and lovely.

have you read EPL? if not, you MUST. i have a feeling it may change my life.

even when i am supposed to be the happiest in life (i found HIM after all right?), i want to put my head to the floor and pray that i don't look "back."

i'm exhausted of looking back.





thank-you for another glimpse of what it's like to let a piece of yourself go.

love is always the best reason to do so, even when it fails.

Jayne said...

Oh, Meg, I understand what you're feeling COMPLETELY. Believe me. I wish I had some brilliant words of wisdom, but the only things I can offer are my knowing nods and this piece of encouragement: keep writing. I wrote a lot about my own particular brand of heartache, even named the creative nonfiction pieces "Untitleds," and it was the most therapeutic thing I could've done. If you like, I can share some with you - just know you're not alone. :)

Lanie said...

I love the way you write out your feelings, you have such a gift! :D

Danielle said...

this is wonderful. after awhile you learn that looking back only breaks your heart over and over again. and somewhere you find the courage to step forward to the unfamiliar because you know it has to be better than the lonely place you've been. you're an amazing writer!

Jalene said...

wow, so beautiful. i'm glad you walked away, because you are walking towards someone else. i know this for certain, too. :)

Sarah said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Shanley said...

can I have your email? I want to send you something I wrote that is truly the same message you were writing here. It's going to be published but it's not yet, and I feel that you should read it because I think we've had some experiences to make us kindred spirits - shanleyknox@gmail.com. The hardest words I've ever heard were "Being in a relationship with you just isn't good enough to be worth working for." But new words came - months later, and out of the mouth of someone with SO much more integrity. This is life moving forward, and it is GOOD.

holly said...

I can remember dating a boy and writing in the margins of his book. The fact that he had MY thoughts in HIS book is probably what bothered me the most about everything...and the way it ended. You are one awesome gal. :) Keep writing and I'll keep reading...consider yourself "bookmarked."

Lola said...

I know I've said it before but I must say it again - you're writing is the shit. Sometimes I think you're living my life in a parallel universe. Seems a lot of us are feeling the same things, and you capture those things so beautifully. Will be looking for a by Meg Fee book myself.

karajean said...

This comment will no doubt simple be an echo of the others, but I simply had to say something. I love how honest you are. And I love how you don't hide behind vague generalizations. You never seem to be hiding.

This was beautiful.

brown eyed girl said...

absolutely beautiful.

you've done it again, meg fee.

You're gonna be a star someday, but maybe as a writer and not an actress..


(come to think of it, you're already a star.)

No Ordinary Housewife said...

It takes alot of strength to do what you have done. Ending a relationship early on when you know its not benefitting you is the BEST thing you can do. Its NICE to be in love, its even BETTER to be loved and there's no GREATER love, than self-love.

Always Love you FIRST... because if you can't, how can anyone else love you?

No Ordinary Housewife

danikreeft said...

brilliant.
honestly, brilliant.

i am in the EXACT same spot at the moment. and need to remember that in walking away from him, i'm walking toward someone else...

thanks for the reminder!
xo.

D&D said...

when you walk away, always allow yourself a look back.

but just one. xx.

Signorina Svizzera said...

my problem is that it is not the imagination i lack, but the reality. i can see my future so clearly, but i have not even an inkling of when it will truly begin.
so don't worry-whether you can envision the next person coming along or not, until the right one actually does find his way, the future is equally as disappointing (is that too depressing to say?)

meg, you are such a brilliant writer, so reflective, and every time i come here i leave with my thoughts racing.
p.s. i would have gone back for the earring too.

Mandee lost her individuality. said...

Oh Meg. When I read your blog I pretend you are my BFF. I would love to have a BFF like you.

you are a beautiful person and deserve someone who will fight for you.

Helen M. said...

Meg, I haven't commented in some time, but I've been reading steadily. That bit you wrote: "But the thing was, he had all my secrets. I'd be damned if he got the earring too." There was an audible intake of breath over here, in central VA, where I sit alone, still in my PJs, having sobbed my eyes out this morning because life keeps changing on me. I would like very much to be back in touch with you, if only because there is a constant synchronicity between what you write and what I feel. I have just, really just, started up a new space (this one feels most like home), and I'd be delighted if you'd visit. xox

ann ladson said...

this is one of the most beautiful things i have ever read, i found your blog through naomi, and she's right you are beautiful. i had this exact feeling just 2 months ago when i split with the love of my adult life on valentines, because no matter what we loved each other sooo much, and we still could not get on the same page. It has been an incredibly hard road for us both, but i met someone else and he embodies all the traits i so wanted in my ex. And for perspective, it's still hard we pass each other in the car with no acknowledgement because we are still not ready to be friends, too much pain still. anyway, thank you, you are a WONDERFUL writer!

Carrie Rosalind said...

Wow - you are such a great writer. I am going through this right now and it is HARD. Thanks for putting things into perspective. I just found your blog and I'll definitely be a follower now. Good luck hanging in there!

Lily said...

YOU, you lovely lady, are amazing!

Tyra said...

You're so strong! I'm trying to do the exact thing you just did. Its harder after 3 years...wish I would have done it 2 and a half years ago when I knew I should have!

the Cookie Bunny said...

I'm in same zone as you and the exact same spot as Tyra above me. Just know that you'll make it through and a big, dazzling smile will find its way on your face soon enough. Oh, and if it gets hard, grab a cupcake. :D

Cassandra said...

You have no idea how much reading this meant to me. I was just stumbling from blog to blog tonight, not studying for an exam in a class for my major. I'm a blubbering mess of tears and reading this and that poem about letting go really helped me. I'm not saying that I've stopped crying, or that all of a sudden I'm over the fact that I broke up with my boyfriend/best friend today because we're not in a healthy relationship. But it has helped. You've earned a new reader.

Anonymous said...

Truly beautiful words. Really, reading this has helped heal my own heart just a little and I'm very grateful for that. Thank you.

RML said...

This was really beautifully written. I have experienced a similar breakup like this yet you described it best.

Coby Gerstner said...

Simply put, this is beautiful. Agonized beauty. Constructed. Loved the connection/transitions.

Maya said...

I just read this, Meg, and wow! Beautifully written about something very painful. I wish I had the strength not to look back. Your last line is something I'm going to hold on to. Thanks for linking this post.

Shawnee said...

holy fjdka;fjdkla;s. i LOVE this. particularly the ending. i'm in the same boat. fantastic post!

Diana said...

Apparently I am not the only one who'd never read this! What an amazing post. You write so beautifully and I understand what you mean about lacking imagination in terms of the future. It's ironic considering I fancy myself creative. Yet when it comes to loss and loss of love particularly, it is like I get stuck. I don't see the happy ending. But I want to be optimistic and so I'm going to remember your last line. You sum it up so well. I LOVE your blog! You are just so breathtaking!

alliespence. said...

i absolutely love the way you write. you inspire me to be more of a storyteller. you paint such a beautiful picture with your words and seem able to communicate such a diversity of emotions!

keep writing girl!

ps: love that last line... *sigh* i believe that's very true.