Afterward, I felt slightly more human, but I didn’t have the energy to blow-dry my hair, so when I answered my sisters’ knock, I was dressed in leggings and a sweater, but with my hair still damp. They each gave me a hug.
We sat down in the living room, Stella and I on the couch and Maren cross-legged on the floor.
“Stella told me what happened. Do you want to talk about it?” Maren asked. “You look so sad.”
“I am sad.” Even a cruller wasn’t making me feel better, although I was eating it, anyway.
“So he asked for space out of the blue?” Stella questioned. “That really surprises me, after seeing you two together Friday night.”
“You and me both,” I said. “But he told me that was an act. That he was just saying the things he thought I wanted to hear. And I was the one who asked for total honesty at the start, so…” I shrugged.
“But do you think he was being honest?” Stella asked, setting her coffee cup on the table. “Or was he panicking and thinking, Whoa, I better take a step back.”
“That’s a good point.” Maren nodded. “Maybe he wasn’t acting Friday night. Maybe he was acting last night.”
I shook my head. “Stop. I can’t even wrap my head around that. I didn’t want any games this time around, you know? And what would he have to panic about? I wasn’t pushing him. I wasn’t asking for anything. And I sure as hell wasn’t crowding him—if anything, he was the one taking us to the next level each time.”
“That’s what I mean,” Stella said thoughtfully. “Maybe he scared himself.”
“And then took it out on her?” Maren asked.
Stella nodded. “Right. Broke it off so he wouldn’t have to deal with true feelings of intimacy, which he’s admitted being uncomfortable with.”
“But he didn’t break it off,” I said, reaching for another cruller, feeling like a broken heart justified two of them. “He was all, Emme, this doesn’t mean we have to stop seeing each other, and I was like, Uh, yeah, Nate, it does. You just told me you lied to me.”
“Oh my God. He probably thought you’d still come over and have sex.” Maren rolled her eyes.
“Or,” said Stella, “He was forcing you to do the leaving, so that he wouldn’t have to feel guilty about it. He could even blame you for the breakup.”
“That’s kind of messed up,” Maren said.
“You know what? He is kind of messed up right now.” I took a bite of my cruller and thought for a moment. “The whole fatherhood thing forced him to reevaluate his life. He’s dealing with huge changes, in himself and in his future. Plus we went to his mom’s house yesterday, and—” I shook my head—“it was emotional for him, because he lost his little brother to cancer when he was twelve. The house holds a lot of painful memories.”
“That’s sad, but it doesn’t give him an excuse to be a jerk.” Maren reached for her cup.
“No, but it might help explain it,” said Stella. “All those changes might have snowballed in a way that made him feel really threatened all at once. And the house is a reminder of someone he loved and lost.”
“Still,” I said, “he was a total dick and he knows it.” I told them about how I’d ended up going over to his apartment in the middle of the night. “And before I left, he asked me if I hated him, and I think he expected me to say yes.”
“What did you say?” Maren asked.
“I told him the truth. That I don’t hate him, I hate what he did. And I hate myself for falling for his act.” My throat went dangerously tight, and I had to take a few deep breaths to prevent a meltdown.
Stella reached over and patted my leg. “Don’t blame yourself, Emme. This is not your fault.”
But I couldn’t help feeling like it was.
We were silent a moment before Maren started giggling. “I’m sorry, but I keep imagining Nate’s face when you handed him that rectal thermometer.”
“Oh, he was so appalled.” Despite everything, even I cracked a smile. “You’d have thought I asked him to eat the thing. It actually was kind of funny.”
Later, when they were leaving, I said to Maren, “Your offer still good to help me find some peace and balance? I think I could use some.”
“Of course,” she said. “I think it’s a great idea to use this opportunity to work on yourself. Turn your focus inward.”
I nodded. “I’d like to break out of my harmful romantic patterns. I feel like I keep doing the same thing over and over again, like a hamster in one of those wheels. I need to do something different, change my approach or something. I really thought Nate was something special, that what we had was the real thing, but—” I lifted my shoulders as my eyes teared up—“I was wrong again.”
“Listen, I have just the thing,” she said. “Can you meet me at the studio at four?”
I had no work event scheduled that night, so it would work. “Yes. See you then.”
Just the thing turned out to be a really difficult yoga class. I did my best to wrangle my feet behind my head and put my knees next to my ears and balance on my butt with my arms and legs in the air, but I was pretty much abysmal at all the poses except for Happy Baby, which actually made me laugh a little, it was so pathetic. Maybe that had been her plan all along?
Nope.
“You’re not supposed to laugh in class,” Maren whispered to me afterward. “People might think you are laughing at them.”
“I was laughing at myself,” I told her. “All those poses were so hard. I failed at all of them, and even on Happy Baby I had to try like three times to get my left foot in my hand. Aren’t I allowed to laugh at myself? I either had to laugh or cry, and I figured crying would be more embarrassing.”
Maren sighed. “Instead of laughing at yourself, why not focus on your breathing instead, what your muscles feel like, or what your body is capable of instead of thinking of it as failing?” She handed me a bottle of water from the fridge behind the desk. “Here, drink this. It’s important to stay hydrated. You can bring it into the next class with you.”
“The next class? I have to do another one?” I was already drenched in sweat and looking forward to a shower, my pajamas, and a glass of wine.
“I think this one is going to be very good for you.”
“Good for me how? Is it another yoga class? Because I feel bad enough about myself as it is.” And nothing was taking Nate off my mind.
“It’s not a yoga class.” She busied herself with something on the desk, and I immediately got suspicious.
“So what kind of class is it?”
“It’s an affirmations session focusing on love and relationships,” she said, needlessly straightening a stack of papers. “And it’s going to be really good for you.”
“Affirmations? Is that like meditation?”
“Sort of,” she hedged, taking a long drink from her water bottle. “But affirmations are spoken out loud.”
I gaped at her. “I have to speak out loud in there? No way.”
“You said you wanted to break out of your harmful patterns, Emme. We can’t rely only on our thoughts when we need to rewire ourselves like you’re trying to do. We need to translate thoughts into words and words into actions in order to manifest our intentions.”
“That sounds like a load of horseshit. I’m out of here.” I looked around for the nearest exit, and she grabbed my arm.
“No! You don’t want to be the hamster anymore, do you?”
“No,” I admitted.
“Then stay. And trust me,” she said, leading me into one of the smaller rooms off the lobby. “It’s going to be great.”
I had my doubts, but I followed her into the room anyway, figuring a hamster had nothing to lose.
Other than Maren and me, there were about ten other students plus the instructor, Harmony, in the room. Eight of them were women, and two were men. We all sat in a circle and the first thing Harmony wanted us to do was to voice one of the negative thoughts stuck in a loop in our brains. Most of the women said things like I’m not pretty enough, I’m not thin enough, or I’ll never find someone. It was so depressing. Why did so many people do this to themselves? When it was Maren’s turn, she said, “I don’t really matter to the world. I feel insignificant.”
We sat down in the living room, Stella and I on the couch and Maren cross-legged on the floor.
“Stella told me what happened. Do you want to talk about it?” Maren asked. “You look so sad.”
“I am sad.” Even a cruller wasn’t making me feel better, although I was eating it, anyway.
“So he asked for space out of the blue?” Stella questioned. “That really surprises me, after seeing you two together Friday night.”
“You and me both,” I said. “But he told me that was an act. That he was just saying the things he thought I wanted to hear. And I was the one who asked for total honesty at the start, so…” I shrugged.
“But do you think he was being honest?” Stella asked, setting her coffee cup on the table. “Or was he panicking and thinking, Whoa, I better take a step back.”
“That’s a good point.” Maren nodded. “Maybe he wasn’t acting Friday night. Maybe he was acting last night.”
I shook my head. “Stop. I can’t even wrap my head around that. I didn’t want any games this time around, you know? And what would he have to panic about? I wasn’t pushing him. I wasn’t asking for anything. And I sure as hell wasn’t crowding him—if anything, he was the one taking us to the next level each time.”
“That’s what I mean,” Stella said thoughtfully. “Maybe he scared himself.”
“And then took it out on her?” Maren asked.
Stella nodded. “Right. Broke it off so he wouldn’t have to deal with true feelings of intimacy, which he’s admitted being uncomfortable with.”
“But he didn’t break it off,” I said, reaching for another cruller, feeling like a broken heart justified two of them. “He was all, Emme, this doesn’t mean we have to stop seeing each other, and I was like, Uh, yeah, Nate, it does. You just told me you lied to me.”
“Oh my God. He probably thought you’d still come over and have sex.” Maren rolled her eyes.
“Or,” said Stella, “He was forcing you to do the leaving, so that he wouldn’t have to feel guilty about it. He could even blame you for the breakup.”
“That’s kind of messed up,” Maren said.
“You know what? He is kind of messed up right now.” I took a bite of my cruller and thought for a moment. “The whole fatherhood thing forced him to reevaluate his life. He’s dealing with huge changes, in himself and in his future. Plus we went to his mom’s house yesterday, and—” I shook my head—“it was emotional for him, because he lost his little brother to cancer when he was twelve. The house holds a lot of painful memories.”
“That’s sad, but it doesn’t give him an excuse to be a jerk.” Maren reached for her cup.
“No, but it might help explain it,” said Stella. “All those changes might have snowballed in a way that made him feel really threatened all at once. And the house is a reminder of someone he loved and lost.”
“Still,” I said, “he was a total dick and he knows it.” I told them about how I’d ended up going over to his apartment in the middle of the night. “And before I left, he asked me if I hated him, and I think he expected me to say yes.”
“What did you say?” Maren asked.
“I told him the truth. That I don’t hate him, I hate what he did. And I hate myself for falling for his act.” My throat went dangerously tight, and I had to take a few deep breaths to prevent a meltdown.
Stella reached over and patted my leg. “Don’t blame yourself, Emme. This is not your fault.”
But I couldn’t help feeling like it was.
We were silent a moment before Maren started giggling. “I’m sorry, but I keep imagining Nate’s face when you handed him that rectal thermometer.”
“Oh, he was so appalled.” Despite everything, even I cracked a smile. “You’d have thought I asked him to eat the thing. It actually was kind of funny.”
Later, when they were leaving, I said to Maren, “Your offer still good to help me find some peace and balance? I think I could use some.”
“Of course,” she said. “I think it’s a great idea to use this opportunity to work on yourself. Turn your focus inward.”
I nodded. “I’d like to break out of my harmful romantic patterns. I feel like I keep doing the same thing over and over again, like a hamster in one of those wheels. I need to do something different, change my approach or something. I really thought Nate was something special, that what we had was the real thing, but—” I lifted my shoulders as my eyes teared up—“I was wrong again.”
“Listen, I have just the thing,” she said. “Can you meet me at the studio at four?”
I had no work event scheduled that night, so it would work. “Yes. See you then.”
Just the thing turned out to be a really difficult yoga class. I did my best to wrangle my feet behind my head and put my knees next to my ears and balance on my butt with my arms and legs in the air, but I was pretty much abysmal at all the poses except for Happy Baby, which actually made me laugh a little, it was so pathetic. Maybe that had been her plan all along?
Nope.
“You’re not supposed to laugh in class,” Maren whispered to me afterward. “People might think you are laughing at them.”
“I was laughing at myself,” I told her. “All those poses were so hard. I failed at all of them, and even on Happy Baby I had to try like three times to get my left foot in my hand. Aren’t I allowed to laugh at myself? I either had to laugh or cry, and I figured crying would be more embarrassing.”
Maren sighed. “Instead of laughing at yourself, why not focus on your breathing instead, what your muscles feel like, or what your body is capable of instead of thinking of it as failing?” She handed me a bottle of water from the fridge behind the desk. “Here, drink this. It’s important to stay hydrated. You can bring it into the next class with you.”
“The next class? I have to do another one?” I was already drenched in sweat and looking forward to a shower, my pajamas, and a glass of wine.
“I think this one is going to be very good for you.”
“Good for me how? Is it another yoga class? Because I feel bad enough about myself as it is.” And nothing was taking Nate off my mind.
“It’s not a yoga class.” She busied herself with something on the desk, and I immediately got suspicious.
“So what kind of class is it?”
“It’s an affirmations session focusing on love and relationships,” she said, needlessly straightening a stack of papers. “And it’s going to be really good for you.”
“Affirmations? Is that like meditation?”
“Sort of,” she hedged, taking a long drink from her water bottle. “But affirmations are spoken out loud.”
I gaped at her. “I have to speak out loud in there? No way.”
“You said you wanted to break out of your harmful patterns, Emme. We can’t rely only on our thoughts when we need to rewire ourselves like you’re trying to do. We need to translate thoughts into words and words into actions in order to manifest our intentions.”
“That sounds like a load of horseshit. I’m out of here.” I looked around for the nearest exit, and she grabbed my arm.
“No! You don’t want to be the hamster anymore, do you?”
“No,” I admitted.
“Then stay. And trust me,” she said, leading me into one of the smaller rooms off the lobby. “It’s going to be great.”
I had my doubts, but I followed her into the room anyway, figuring a hamster had nothing to lose.
Other than Maren and me, there were about ten other students plus the instructor, Harmony, in the room. Eight of them were women, and two were men. We all sat in a circle and the first thing Harmony wanted us to do was to voice one of the negative thoughts stuck in a loop in our brains. Most of the women said things like I’m not pretty enough, I’m not thin enough, or I’ll never find someone. It was so depressing. Why did so many people do this to themselves? When it was Maren’s turn, she said, “I don’t really matter to the world. I feel insignificant.”
