Spinning around in Circles

The last ten days have been anything but great.  My mom was admitted into the hospital for a bowel obstruction, which ended up requiring massive gut surgery and loss of a foot of small intestine and her appendix.  Surgery was the same day that my dad had his second round of chemo.  That was followed by my husband and I having two epic (EPIC) fights, to the point that I really wasn’t sure that we weren’t done, and a whole bunch of menial crap that happened all at the same time.

Recently I’ve joined a community band.  I have a BA in Music from Ole Miss, which I’ve never used, nor had the desire to use.  However, 10 years post graduation, there’s been a void that needed filling, post motherhood, post settling into adulting, and my very special ENFP friend (who is also a musician) encouraged me to get back into music.  So I did.  In any case, I play French Horn.  My teacher encouraged me to change mouthpieces in college.  I moved from a Lawson something (I don’t remember), to a Giardinelli S14, which I’ve had a love hate relationship with ever since the switch (I fatigue quickly, and when fatigued my embouchure slides; it’s a bad fit).  I’ve done a TON of research on mouthpieces, and what works best for what horn/person, and came up with the Laskey 775F.  The only problem with this, is apparently they don’t make millions of these a year, and retailers are limited.  I found a retailer, ordered it, paid a little extra so I could track it, boom.  Easy, right?  Wrong.  The tracking receipt said it was very much delivered, however, I was very much not in receipt of one mouthpiece.  Multiple calls to the vendor and post office resulted in a claim being filed, and while it all processed, still in search of the glass slipper mouthpiece, I ordered the 75G and 80G to try from a different vendor (because NOBODY has a 775F.  NOBODY).  Saturday, I got possibly the happiest phone call ever – my mouthpiece had been found.  It was hand delivered to me later that day, and the 775F is every bit as amazing as I thought it would be.  Anyway, why does all this matter?  It doesn’t really, but it gives a little back story of how important this was to me.  The night of epic fight #2 was the day that the mouthpiece didn’t show up.  A week later, I’m not really sure what the whole content of the fight was (lots of him being lazy, me being maxed out with mom in hospital and dad on chemo, etc.), but in any case, I left to go to rehearsal in tears.  And I never cry.  I texted Mr. ENFP who immediately called me, and had my back.  He insisted that I go to rehearsal (it was the practice pre performance; you don’t miss that unless you are literally dying), and it was exactly what I needed.

In the midst of all of this, Mr. ENFP decides that he needs to see his sort of ex, like at the beginning of a divorce ex.  Naturally, it goes awfully.  He doesn’t get the closure he wants, which I believe we both knew would happen, and is left raw and distraught, just in time to go to Flagstaff with his girlfriend.  We end up talking for an hour before he heads north (he’s in Phoenix), and then zero contact over the weekend.

Sunday, I have my very first concert with the community band (which mostly went well), and I hear nothing. Radio silence.  Not so much as a text message from Mr. ENFP who was SO insistent on me getting back into music (and who knew about the concert).  He finally checks in around 9:30, when I’m getting ready for bed, with some menial ‘what’s up’ text (although worded better than that, because, we’re in our 30’s.  We use actual words now).  I felt really silly about being upset that he forgot about the concert (we’ve talked about it a lot), until four people asked me about it at work with zero prompting.

Then it comes back to the wonder of is this just friendship, or is it something more (on my end, not his, although anytime I leave him alone for more than 24 hours, I hear from him, which brings up the question of how honest he’s being with himself) (we were involved in high school, a year off and on (he lived way down south and we saw each other at honor bands), a good amount of foreplay, no sex).  I love my husband dearly.  But having a toddler and a busy life is hard on any marriage.   Mr. ENFP is available (presumably because he has no toddler), and easy to talk to, and has always been a good friend.  I’ve bolstered him up through getting to his divorce; he’s helped me through cancer with my dad.  He always claims we’re just friends, but sometimes I just don’t know.  The connection we have, that we always have had, is real.  It’s very different this go round (it’s been more than a decade since we’ve seen each other), but probably deeper than it ever was.  I’ve pondered exactly what our relationship is many many many times, and even when I’m sure he’s 100% in the friend’s box, he does (or doesn’t do) something like this, and I feel hurt, which makes me wonder all over again.

So here I sit, spinning around in circles, walls up, not sure what to do.


The ENFP friend(s)

I have always been very particular about trust.  I am very protective of myself, very self sufficient, and the idea of actually needing others and relying on others makes me want to vomit, quite literally.  However, I have two very dear ENFP friends who I offer up my life to, including all the feels.  Despite these two (one male, one female) having the same MBTI type, you could not find two more different people.  In an effort to keep anonymity, the female ENFP is light, easy, and the friendliest person you’ll ever meet, with a zany intelligence that will match anyone toe for toe, all while being a devoted and talented musician (we were each other’s biggest competition in high school).  We have been inseparable since fourth grade.  The male and I actually have a little bit of a history.  We met at an honor band in high school.  There was an instant attraction (I think we went from meeting to making out in the span of an hour and a half).  We kept up with each other off and on through college (he went to one SEC school, while I went to its rival), and have remained facebook friends.  He is simultaneously the lightest yet deepest person I have ever met.  He also is hands down the most talented musician I have ever known, ever.  We reconnected over the summer as his marriage was falling apart.  Somewhere along the line, I became a deeply trusted confidant, and still hold that role.  While the nature is purely platonic in this context, the friendship has been fast, fierce, and enduring.  Additionally, he is possibly the most accepting person of me as me that I’ve ever known (my husband is a very close second on that front, but does sometimes have issues with my dry logic).  Between the two of them, they have gotten me back into music, and he has helped me branch back out and make a few select friends (although floating 5 friendships all at once is seriously exhausting).

It brings an interesting twist to life, as I’ve been married for 7 years now.  Can you be friends with someone of the opposite sex?  I say (and firmly believe) yes.  We have acknowledged the history.  My husband knows of the history.  I’m annoyingly transparent about our friendship (also exhausting).  Admittedly, if we were both single, I might completely uproot my life to be with this guy, but I’m mostly happily married, and he has a girlfriend, plus is fixing to go through what will no undoubtedly be an awful divorce.  Most people say the heart wants what it can’t have, but really, with me, the mind looks at the whole situation and says it’ll never be, so why want.

I write about this today, as the issue was an issue yesterday.  My male friend was having a particularly emotional day, so he called.  I talked while entertaining our almost two year old toddler, and cooking dinner.  Afterwards, there was a huge explosive fight, followed by lots of silence, and ‘I love you’s’ on my husband’s part, which has continued into today.  My guy friend and husband have not ever met.  There are tentative plans for the two of them to meet around Christmas (he doesn’t live close at all), but that is all very tentative.  I don’t make light of the relationship my guy ENFP and I have.  I won’t lie; I’ve spent many hours pondering what could have been, and whether it would have worked.  But, at a place that I am at now, I really do believe he’s just my pal.  Probably one of my best friends, but nonetheless a friend.

So what do you do with that?  Obviously it’s a spring stretching to its tightness juggling my friend and husband.  Running in the background is my father, who is fighting with lung cancer (never smoker, don’t judge), and will probably die in the nearer future.  It’s been a battle for four years, which is insanely remarkable, but we are nearing that critical point of cancer ratio to organs.  Fortunately (or unfortunately) my male friend’s father also died of cancer.  Sometimes you need that connection when you need to be negative, or realistic.  The giant red line in the sand has been drawn.  On occasion, my husband challenges it, but then steps back realizing that I do love him (and our son) dearly.

Time will tell, I know, but in the meantime, life is a tangled dysfunctional mess.

The very beginning . . .

For my whole life, I have always felt like a bit of a square peg in a round hole.  I get along with people, sometimes, on the surface level, but have always found myself constantly longing for something deeper.  I have been lucky.  I am married, most of the time happily married, and have a small, very tight network of friends.  I had always attributed it to just being weird and intelligent, with an out of the box set of interests, that just didn’t appeal to most people.  In walks the Myers Briggs test.  I was instantly hooked.  I’m an INTJ female, which encompasses a lowly 0.8% of the population.  All of my experiences during childhood, and the quest for a significant other, were instantly explained.

Continue reading “The very beginning . . .”