For a moment, forgive the irony of the break I took, wherein I professed to burn down the past, as I take a side trip down memory lane!

The subject is former flames, because two of them have been on my mind lately, and maybe it's part of the "burning down process" that compels me to reflect on what once was. I'll devote this entry to one of them, and the next entry to the other.

The first is ER. I realized that this past weekend marked a year since we started our relationship (obviously, a relationship which failed, haha). I actually had a dream about him the other night; maybe my subconscious remembered the anniversary before my conscious mind became aware of it.

He, like Matt, was a Matchmaker find. When I first saw his picture online, I swear I actually swooned. He completely fit the image of my ideal "type": black hair, brown eyes, tan skin. A goatee and a perfect, white smile. When he responded to my mail, we quickly clicked. We talked for hours on the phone, and learned so much about each other that it felt like we'd known one another forever.

I was so incredibly nervous the first time we were to meet, but I made up my mind beforehand that I would kiss him right upfront, to get that awkwardness out of the way. And I did, and the rest of the evening was made all the more awesome because of it. (Except for the fact that he kept staring at me, taking in my face, looking into my eyes - and I had to keep looking away, but he found that somehow endearing. I still have a hard time letting someone look at me that intimately.)

ER gave me the greatest gift of all on my birthday the following weekend: the gift of total acceptance. I was very drunk because I was out celebrating with my sister, and with my liquid courage I wanted to see him, to tell him a few things I hadn't yet, things about me he needed to know if we were to continue our relationship - things that won't be revealed in this journal. I was afraid of what his reaction would be, but there was no reason for my fear. He was compassionate, respectful, and tender. I was relieved and honored by how he treated me. Perhaps because he was so accepting, and because he was the first new person I had been intimate with in over fifteen years, I fell for him right then, hard.

Yes, even harder than I fell for Matt, if that can be believed. Just in a very different way.

ER was a musician, which only enhanced the attraction - what girl doesn't love a rock star? Although his band had recorded five albums, the type of music (doom metal) has a small following, and despite the ardent loyalty of the fans, especially overseas, he was in no way made wealthy by the success. I bought two of the albums on Amazon, and was floored by his talent. (And though I have no means of doing so in person, I want to congratulate him on their new tour and album in the works currently. I'm hoping to catch him in a local show very soon - I think seeing him play live will be very satisfying, but quite emotional as well.)

One night, he played just for me. I put on headphones and reclined on the couch, closed my eyes and just let the music sweep over me. To me, that kind of talent was so impressive, especially knowing he never touched a guitar until he was 16, and when he did, something magical was born. I envied him that.

He was also talented in computer graphics. I would sit on his lap in his computer chair, and he showed me how to use Adobe Photoshop, guiding my hand on the mouse, making me laugh the entire time as he played teacher. We were so silly, but that's what made it so great.

That was something he really seemed to enjoy doing - making me laugh. He would tell me funny stories, sometimes the same ones over and over again, but it never mattered, because they never ceased to be just as funny as the first time I'd heard them.

He also told me sad stories. Of his failed marriage - which he acknowledged was his own fault, due to his obsession with his music. Of his more recent ex - who was so heinous that she slept with his twin brother while he was out of town. Of his father's death - which affected him greatly.

Because he managed the apartment complex in which he lived (in addition to all the other things he did), I'd sleep over at his house and stay all day, with him coming in every couple of hours to see me, kiss me, watch TV with me. My heart would jump a little every time he came in, because he was just so damn cute!! In the late afternoon, he'd come in and sit on the couch with me, and sometimes doze off (because I'd kept him up all night hehe). I'd rub his neck and shoulders to help him relax, and then just watch him while he slept. His face just captivated me.

I saw pictures of him with long hair (the metal thing, of course) and I showed him pictures of mine when it was down to my waist. He expressed regret that I had cut it, and so I started to let it grow out again. (It was above my shoulders when we started dating.)

I also - um, removed some hair in other areas because it was something else he found pleasing. (Am I blushing yet?)

The sex was remarkable as well. Although I didn't experience quite the level of chemistry with ER that I did with Matt, he was a considerate and skillful lover, always wanting to make sure I received as much pleasure as he did - the first man to ever care if I'd achieved an orgasm too.

(Jesus, it's getting warm in here!)

But ER grew uncomfortable with his feelings for me as they deepened (hmmm, sound familiar?), and I simply did not understand it, and when we had the talk that resulted in our break-up, it was he who shed the first tears. I was so shocked by his willingness to display his emotions that my own tears quickly followed. Leaving that apartment was the absolute hardest thing I ever had to force myself to do.

And even though I was the one who initiated it, I was destroyed when we broke up. I mean literally destroyed. To the point that even my children started to worry when I never left the house, never even left my room. I cried constantly, lost weight, wrote him letters and stupid poems, called him on the phone, totally made an idiot of myself.

It didn't help that he told me how much he missed me, because in my mind, he could correct that so very easily. I berated him for that - he held the key to us reuniting, and he refused to use it. I really behaved terribly.

(And it's likely that the shame of that period in my life had a great deal to do with my recent humiliation over revealing my feelings for Matt in this journal, although I certainly think I did it in a more dignified way this time. For a while though, I feared I'd fallen into that pit again. I realize now that there is no comparison!)

With the ER break-up, I believed that there was something dreadfully wrong with me, and there was: I had no sense of myself in that relationship, and no sense of myself outside of it. It took a long time for me to get over ER, but it really wasn't him I was getting over, it was my self-esteem that I was getting back.

And reflecting on my reaction to my break-up with ER and comparing it to my reaction to my break-up with Matt, I happily realize that what is different this time is me, and I am so very grateful for that.

If you measure it in levels of grief, you might think that it was ER who I really loved, and not Matt. And I do wonder about that a little myself, but I think I can clearly see the difference. Because during my time with ER, there really wasn't any of me to give, no heart, no soul, just a desperate person wanting reassurance that she was worth loving at all.

In breaking up with ER, I forced myself to the bottom of a very dark pit, and in climbing back up I discovered the strength of character that I had possessed all along. And it is that strength that has kept me functioning through this entire debacle with Matt. The pit is much shallower this time, not because my feelings were shallower, but because they were based not on need or desperation, but on a foundation of loving myself and wanting to share my love with someone else.

In that respect, ER turned out to be much more than just a birthday present. Losing him was the key to finding myself again. I'm not perfectly whole yet, but I have many, many more of the pieces I need right now.