The Fire And The Fuel

Fire QuoteThe relationship was deteriorating. We spent more time apart than we did together. We no longer shared the same interests. His obsession was with cold weather activities – I preferred the sunshine and warmth. I valued activities that required my body to generate energy through movement. His activities involved a motor generating speed. Not only did he detest my favorite sport (MLB), but he didn’t understand my love for the game.

We didn’t trust each other and therefore lacked respect. His actions reflected his highest values and those directly conflicted with mine. Every interaction became a heated battle and the quirks that may have once been endearing or tolerable became the seed for the next fight.

I realize now that a solid foundation was never built, but that didn’t make the inevitable any easier to embrace. I just didn’t know what I didn’t know — until I knew it.

It wasn’t difficult to see that our relationship wasn’t working. That was one thing that we agreed upon. I didn’t want to hate him, but the nature of our relationship had become so toxic that I found it hard to breathe. When he mentioned couples counseling, I felt compelled to agree. To be honest, I didn’t see a future with this person, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t figure out a way to put our differences aside and get along.

I was encouraged that he had taken the bull by the horns and made the appointment for our counseling session. It was scheduled for the afternoon and he told me he wanted to ride together. I thought it unusual that he would want to make a special trip, but I decided to let it go.

It was a quiet car ride to the appointment – we didn’t have much to say. We arrived, parked and entered the professional building. We checked in and completed the paperwork.

The lobby was decorated in bright hues and natural light shone through the windows. It was clean and spacious, but something about it felt off. There was a heavy wood door that separated the waiting area from the counseling area and the chairs were arranged in rigid, tight lines. Inspirational quotes in black frames were evenly spaced and hung on the walls. The room felt sterile and the colors forced. To describe the physical didn’t do justice to how it felt energetically. I don’t know if it was the cookie cutter feel of the space, but the longer I sat there, the more uncomfortable I became.

I closed my eyes and tried to settle my thoughts. I could feel the sunshine on my neck and I imagined myself sitting peacefully in a lush garden with flowers and tall whimsy grass blowing in the wind.

My thoughts were interrupted when a woman pushed open the heavy wood door. She had short dark hair, and an average build. She was holding a clipboard and held the door open with her hip when she called my name. I thought it odd that she didn’t call both of our names, but I stood and walked toward her, expecting him to follow suit. Then he announced that he would be back in an hour to pick me up after the appointment. Dumbfounded, I asked how this could be a couples counseling session if only one person attended. That’s when the counselor said that the appointment was made for me.

I walked over to him and asked what was going on. He said that our relationship could be repaired if I got my head straightened out. He told me I had changed and implied that our problems were all mine. But if I was willing to “get fixed” there might be hope. Blood boiling, I loudly and strongly suggested that he was part of the problem and needed more than counseling– he would benefit from a freaking lobotomy. Furious, I turned and walked toward the counselor. He looked at the counselor as if my reaction was evidence to his plight. His expression seemed to say, “see how she is.”

It was clear that the counselor was in over her head as we walked toward her office. I could hardly contain my anger. For the next 45 minutes I spilled everything that infuriated me about that man. I had reached my breaking point and nothing was sacred anymore.

It was cathartic.

I left that office with the realization that I no longer wanted to be in a relationship that forced me to behave in a way that didn’t honor me. I wasn’t willing to be with somebody who lit metaphorical matches, poured fuel on the fire and then blamed the heat on the person ablaze.

I take my share of the blame. My energy is such that I burn hotter than many, but that doesn’t make my fire wrong. It just means it’s best to steer clear of unhealthy fuel.