FLAT TIRES AND TIME TO THINK...

I'm sitting on the side of the road with a flat tire right now, scrambling to think of one person that I can call for help. The tire is my main concern of course, but there's also this realization that I've had no one but him in my life for years. And now I can't think of one person to call.

All of my female relationships have been whittled down to occasional phone calls and texts. I rarely see anyone anymore. All relationships with males, whether childhood friends or coworkers, were eliminated quite a while ago. This somehow proved my faithfulness to him. There's my family, but what immediately comes to mind are his long-standing views that any help from them is second-rate. Their efforts are mocked. Trying to do things on my own, without his help, was an insult to him.

Although I could handle many things myself, I didn't mind talking with him about my ideas or figuring out possible solutions together. When I would try to get his thoughts on it, my words and ideas were scorned, dismissed, or ignored. I was called a Miss Know-It-All. I was told that I thought I knew all the answers. I was told that I truly didn't need or want a REAL relationship, since I wanted to "do everything myself", or was "always" going to "everyone else" for help.

In hindsight, I know these things weren't true. I'd followed his lead on most things, and every once in a while offered up my own perspective or idea. In reality, anything that came up concerning either of us was handled by him, and I went along.

At that time, I wanted to show him that the things he was saying weren't true. I wanted to show him that I truly loved him, that I wanted and needed him and the relationship. I started going to him even more when things needed to be taken care of. Even the small things, that I could've handled myself. I'd call him or text him to let him know what was going on. And he would automatically supply a solution, which I would accept.

It became one less thing that he could blow up about, and it was a concession that was fairly easy for me to maintain. I was able to keep the peace in some way. This became comfortable.

That comfort started to dull my awareness. He's in law enforcement, and is excellent at invoking a sense of security, competency, trust. Everything would be alright when he showed up. I could call him, whenever I was in need, and he would drop everything, and come speeding to get to me. He was efficient, resourceful. He handled situations, comandeered the environment. He got things done.

I soon learned that that kind of help came at a high price. At some base level, there may have been some true desire to help me. But I started to see that, overall, he wasn't helping me for me. He was helping me because he needed to be a savior. He needed to be seen and talked about as The Hero. I would watch him swoop in, not only for me, but for anyone that cried help, wanting to be the first responder. The first to provide the solution. And the object of admiration for being the solution.

It was about being able to save the day, and receiving profound and endless gratitude for it. If he felt I wasn't allowing him to save my day, if I didn't show profound and endless gratitude, he would rage, tear me down. He'd say he didn't need to be with "someone like me", a "user" and a "taker". Only letting him help when it was convenient for me. He'd make moves to make me think he was ending the relationship, moving on to someone better. So I'd let him over.

Yes, all of this runs through my mind as I'm sitting in my car, with a flat tire. I feel a bit panicked over how I'm going to handle it. The urge to call him is strong. Feelings of sadness and longing rising. We had a painful ending just a few days before, over something he'd manufactured. Exhausted from it all, I'd blocked all communication, and hadn't spoken to him since. So, as much as I want to call, there's just a drop more resolve in me not to.

My awareness is waking up. I pray out loud. The first thought that comes to me is to try Triple A. I know they offer free towing with membership. I smile a little as I start to act. I remember the times when I wouldn't have been able to afford an emergency like this. He would've been there to either fix the flat, or arrange and pay for the tow. Now, it's me. My prayers. The little faith that I have. My money. Getting this done.

He may be absent, but I can make a decision without fear of anger or chastisement. I can pay for something without dreading it being thrown back in my face. I can interact with the service providers without being accused of flirting or cheating. I can get all of this done without the burden of being forever indebted and forever repaying.

It feels good to be able to get this done peacefully.