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Old 03-16-2012, 12:23 PM
Qarzan Qarzan is offline
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Join Date: Mar 2012
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Anne,

Thanks for the advice. I have a dinner date with R on Sunday. I'm actually pretty happy about it.

As a reply to your post, I'd say I'm not exactly focused on who is making the moves, more like analyzing why things happened so fast with H, and are going so slow with R.

I've come up with a metaphor that will help explain how I feel towards H. She hasn't replied to my text at all, and I don't really blame her. We did discuss boundaries in terms of when we were teaching together, or when she was running her venue, but we didn't discuss boundaries for when she leaves. It was partly what I was getting at when I brought up expectations, to which she replied, "I don't really know what I want." So it went undefined.

The metaphor is: my emotions aren't a light switch that can be turned on and off at will; it's a bonfire. Over the past weekend, H and I gathered the kindling on Thursday, lit the kindling on Saturday, and piled on more wood on Sunday. The fire was big and bright, and burned hot.

Then on Monday, we tried to hide and contain it. But, how do you hide a 12-foot flame? Somehow we managed, but I'm sure there were quite a few people who could tell there was a fire that we were trying to hide.

On Tuesday, she was gone, and I was left with this huge bonfire, burning bright and hot. I was expected to snuff it out, or at least contain it to a manageable size. But that's the thing: bonfires cannot be suddenly shrunk or snuffed (we'll assume this metaphor does not contain fire extinguishers); it must be allowed to slowly die down as it burns the last of the wood that was put on it.

Over the next few days, I was left to deal with the bonfire as it created light and heat. I felt that there was really no one I could talk to about it, that wouldn't jeopardize H's reputation. So I tried to contain it on my own.

It felt like I was in a pressure cooker, and I needed some kind of release, some kind of outlet, for the heat from this fire I was trying to snuff. It manifested in the form of the texts and messages. I needed help in managing these feelings, until they shrunk to a more manageable size.

I find it unreasonable that H expect to come by, start a bonfire, and leave me by myself to deal with the aftermath. I need some kind of contact, especially right after a visit from her, to ease us off of that high. Then we can place the remaining embers into a container, slowly feed it bits of paper or twigs to keep it going, so that it can be re-lit into a bonfire at our will.

Does this metaphor make sense? Do you think it gives a clear idea of what I felt I was dealing with after H left?
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