Lady Julia’s Entranced Realm

Last week I shared my feelings regarding the Englishman’s reappearance in my life.  He had asked to see me face-to-face, and even though I knew he didn’t want to hear it, I told him “no”.

Sunday I returned from an outing with my mother and found him sitting in a parked rental car across the street from her house.  Since it was Father’s Day, I suppose he thought it was a safe bet I’d show up there sooner or later.  I was startled, hurt, and angry.

I attempted once again to make it clear he had no business being there after I had asked him not to come around me.  He tried to explain how he was feeling and to be honest I was moved quite strongly by what he said.  I’m not heartless – I know he went through an awful time and that life has really been horrible to him.  I feel so sad that things turned out like they did for him. Things certainly didn’t turn out the way I wanted them to at the time either.

We talked for a few moments and I told him I would call the police if he ever showed up there again.  Since he’s not a US citizen I’m fairly certain a charge of stalking would make it difficult for him to ever re-enter the country.  As he has business meetings here from time to time, that would prove quite costly. That’s not something I want to see happen but I feel as if he is pushing me in a corner.

Even after hearing all that, he said he would stay in town a few more days to give me time to reconsider.  I suppose he thought once I saw him, it would be difficult to walk away.  If some circumstances were different that might be true, however his inability to respect my boundaries has pretty much made it impossible for me to ever trust him again.

He did call me one more time before leaving town. His message was contrite and he sounded lost. I feel terrible, but I really believe I made the only decision I could. Even if I were not concerned with everything that has happened, it’s been years since we were together. I’m not the same person and my circumstances are very different.

I might not feel so strongly about him ignoring my boundaries if I hadn’t been stalked in the past.  When you tell someone to leave you alone and they continue and continue and continue, it’s terrifying.   The feeling of helplessness is overwhelming.

I suppose all this has led me to consider boundaries in general. I began thinking again about a series of posts I recently read on another blog.  The writer described a situation where a young woman had been in a relationship for three years with a “submissive” boyfriend.  This gentleman supposedly becomes “aggressive” about his desire to be dominated, pouts if she does not dominate him in the way he wants, has persisted in calling her Mistress in front of people even though she has specifically told him not to and even though he knew she didn’t like it. He has gone as far as dropping to the floor to grovel when he doesn’t get his way, continuing this even when she asked him to stop.  To my surprise, several people expressed the opinion this young man simply needed to be taken in hand and controlled.

I’m not an expert, and perhaps my opinions are colored unfairly by my life experiences, but I would be concerned if someone I knew thought it prudent that they remain in a situation like this. I feel it is a major deal when someone disregards hard, clearly establish boundaries, not just for the current situation but because of future interactions. It’s been my observation that people seldom change and if anything, things usually get worse over time.  Of course no one knows the whole story between those two people except them and I am not trying in the slightest to offer advice to this woman specifically. Her situation simply made me wonder what I would do if I were her and what I would recommend to a young woman I was close to.

I’m completely aware it’s a judgment thing, but how does one know when someone is simply hurting and reaching out from pain and when they’re a potential risk?   When does someone’s desires to have their needs met become so overwhelming that a problem develops?  At what point does someone pushing past boundaries necessitate a call for an end to a relationship? When is it time to simply walk away?

My first relationship after my divorce was amazing – hot, wild, passionate, loving.   So many of the things I had not felt or done during the lonely, difficult years of my marriage I shared with him.  To say I loved him would have been understating the extent of my feelings.

We met on a penpal website – he from London, me from the Southern US.   Things progressed, we met in person, fell in love, and spent as much of each year together here as the government would allow.  Since his work could be done almost completely via the internet or phone, it didn’t matter where he worked, so why not here?  Eventually our relationship grew to the extent that we began to tentatively discuss marriage.  Since every time he went home our hearts broke a bit, we realized how crazy it was to keep doing that to ourselves when he could apply to stay here permanently if we were married.

In the midst of researching his immigration options, he began having some physical problems.  A trip to his physician led to some horrible news – he had cancer.  When he told me I was heartbroken, but I thought – we can fight this.  Since his health insurance was through the British National Health Service, it would have meant me moving to the UK but that was something at the time that I was more than willing to do. To my dismay he didn’t agree with my plan.  On his last visit here, he told me he couldn’t allow me to sacrifice my life with my family, friends, and career to take care of a dying man and, even though all throughout our relationship he had always been more than happy to let me lead, he was insistent on this issue.  We said our goodbyes and he left.

Having someone know you so well that they can anticipate your every move is not a good thing in situations like this – he knew as soon as his plane left the ground I would begin making plans to follow.   He called when he arrived home to let me know he was safe and that was the last time I spoke with him.  He discontinued his phone service and apparently moved soon after with no forwarding address.

I spent months – long, long months – with my heart shattered.  I cried every day for so many weeks that the season changed more than once.  It wasn’t just the loss of a love – it was the not knowing.  Was he OK?  Was he even still alive? After several years with no word, I assumed he had passed away.

A while back my phone rang and with a “Hello My Love” he re-entered my life.  It seems he’s in remission and has been for some time now.  Since he has a good chance of going on to lead a fairly normal life, he felt it was safe and reasonable to contact me again.

I was relieved.  I was angry.  And.. for some reason I felt some of the heartbreak all over again.  How could he have gone all that time without letting me know he was OK? How could it hurt so much when I know I have moved on?

After speaking with him for awhile, I told him I didn’t want to become involved with him again.  I understood his reason for ending our relationship, but I really couldn’t accept that he thought it was reasonable for him to make such a drastic decision about my life even if he did think he was doing what was best for me.  Surely I was capable of deciding if giving up my life here was something I was prepared to do.  After all, it wasn’t as if a nurse was not aware of what lay ahead for him and for the person caring for him.

Once more I told him goodbye.

He’s called me a number of times since, almost always getting my voice mail because the identity of the person phoning me was withheld.   A couple of times I answered without realizing who it was, but the conversations were extremely brief.  I want to be left alone.

Today yet another “name withheld” call came through and once again I let it roll over to voice mail.  When I finally listened, I heard his voice telling me he was here – not just here in the US, but here in my town.  He had to fly to a city nearby on business and now that his business is concluded, he wants to see me.

For what I hope is the final time, I told him no.   Hopefully he will accept that and move on.   He doesn’t know where I live now, but he has visited with my family a number of times when we were together and could easily show up at my mother’s home if he was so inclined.  He’s promised he wouldn’t and has reassured me the next step was mine.  “I’ll be in town a week.  I couldn’t give up without at least trying – surely you cannot blame me for that.”

In the movies situations like this would be accompanied by soft, romantic music.  He’d walk up to me, sweep me in his arms and I would melt into him.  In real life I sit alone in a darkened room, tears rolling down my cheeks, trying in vain to push away the pain.