Blessings in a Special Blend

It is a cup of Santa’s White Christmas from Barnie’s. I’m welcomed by its soothing aroma. It is a gift to myself … a congratulations. With satisfaction I sip it slowly, knowing that somewhere there is a person I cared for, someone who claimed affection for me, who simultaneously may experience a moment of greater significance or excitement, but isn’t enjoying it nearly as much. Not needing him has become my ultimate revenge, without the strident accompaniment of anger and helplessness. Here I sit with my simple cup of coffee, loving my life despite his not being in it … celebrating my liberation in several small indulgences: An uncustomary glass of wine with dinner. A luxurious soak in the tub, complete with bath salts and a good book. Having a tug of war with Gert, my mini schnauzer, who shows me what pure, uncomplicated affection is. I had forgotten how beautiful a day’s simplicity can be. There are so many blessings, but the greatest one is recognizing them.

I think of that poor man, made all the poorer by the fact he isn’t able to share in these little joys. He has his pleasures too, but moments of true value are lost on him. Escape from reality is found in select bars all over town. He runs from his desolate emptiness into a relationship that won’t test him, a woman who won’t hold mirrors up to his self-deceptions. I know him, even from this distance. He believes life should be easy. I believe life should be fulfilling, and fulfillment won’t come through easy living. While with him, I questioned my gifts of friendship, doubted my expectations of all relationships, and surrendered my romantic dreams. I imagine him now moving day to day. I know his patterns. Boundless blessings won’t content him, for happiness eludes him in his efforts to avoid all fear.

I think of that poor girl. She is drawn to his vulnerability. She wants to prove his gifts to him. Accompanying him into his dark hiding places, she hopes to be a beacon for him. She can’t understand why he resists her, why he won’t venture into the brighter places for her. She wonders if his resistance is truly just self-doubt, or might it indicate a lack of devotion? She sees all of his wonderful qualities ... his gentleness, his humor, his sense of integrity. She perceives his potential. It’s so near to touch. All he needs is a little courage, so she errs in his favor, hoping to boost his self-esteem. She justifies unreasonable sacrifices for the sake of helping him. She wants to smooth his course, to make his fears less threatening so they will be easy to conquer. In time, she’ll let him talk her down from the image of a man who can fulfill her deepest needs. She’ll question whether she must be too demanding. She’ll put her expectations under the knife in order to make herself fit him better. She’ll spend years trying to help him, trying to understand herself with him. Then, when depleted by the effort of loving him, she’ll leave. He’ll be devastated and confused. He’ll claim she was cruel with him at the end because she’ll be frank in her exasperation. In a short time, someone new will amaze her, for she had forgotten how it felt to be appreciated. He’ll find an untapped ear to bend. In drunken self-pity, he’ll cry, “You’d never believe what I’ve been through. You’d never believe what they’ve said to me.” He’ll tell her about J, who said she never felt an overwhelming passion for him. He’ll tell her about me, who poured a drink down his shirt and told him to f*** off instead of being happy for him … of how I was supposed to be a friend. And he’ll tell her about the recent betrayer and whatever insult she paid him. She’ll listen sympathetically. She’ll be drawn to his vulnerability, but in the back of her mind she’ll wonder, could all of his ex-girlfriends have been so bad? Is there any person with a past who can honestly claim being wronged in every case? But she’ll err in his favor, because he has so many great qualities . . .

I see the bottom of my cup. It went so quickly, I hardly noticed. That isn’t how a cup of coffee should be enjoyed. There is just enough left for one more. This time I will take more care. This time I won’t let anything interfere with my simple pleasure, and when it is gone, I will look forward to the next. There is so much to appreciate. I am overwhelmingly thankful.