The Rose Colored Glasses Shattered

I like who I am….really I do, but it seems like my character assets are hopelessly outdated. Those rose colored glasses that sees the world and every person in it as good and as who they say they are is shattered. Twice now I have learned and it hurts much worse this time. The first time was in the knowing that Phil knew his assassin, trusted his assassin, and yet the vile monster looked at him as he shot him time and time again. Phil had time to know evil and to feel pain. That thought gouges my soul and I would give anything to have been able to stand in his stead. I do not say that flippantly, but with the essence of my soul and with every life breath of love I had for that man. That is the key. When I love, there is absolutely nothing I wouldn’t give for the other. Phil’s death etched that value deeper into my soul and yet, yet, that trait just got stomped on and I am not sure that I can recover and repair those rose colored glasses. Maybe I shouldn’t want to.

I never thought that I would be capable of dating again and it indeed took me five years to get to that point of finding a man that I thought enough of to date. He was my friend and I didn’t have to be on every moment of every day. It was such a huge gift. I gave him my heart. I do not know how to be half way in. I only know how to be a good help mate, how to bend into a relationship, and how to believe the best about another person. I truly did. I wanted everything good for him and I looked at him as the king of my world even when life started to get in the way.

I recognized the subtle shift of attention and words, but I attributed to work. Like I would have with Phil, I looked forward believing that the work responsibilities would slow and that the relationship would once again thrive. I looked forward to our moments even as I found myself unable to voice certain things and apologizing for wanting what should have been freely given in a relationship–time and investment. Perhaps work broke us, but I never noticed it because I was too busy looking ahead with those rosy glasses and believing that we had time to figure it out. Indeed, we did and still do have plans through the middle of Dec. Those markers stood as the milestones of the investment into us until it all came crashing down into a broken shattered mess that I do not see how can be repaired.

I am broken and unsure. I like believing the best in people, but I am not sure it is wise in the dating realm. I don’t know the rules and being a widow makes the betrayal twenty times worse. I should have seen it coming. The deep betrayal (not cheating) is resonating on every level. I invested my soul and my heart because that is who I am. Perhaps I wanted too much. Perhaps I needed too much. All I know is that my glasses are shattered. I am shattered.


  1. Sometimes as widowed we have to begin again several times. I have found that as much as it shatters and feels like grief anew it becomes a learning experience. You keep your values intact and learn to live again. We expect people to behave according to our own moral compass until we find out not all men are equal to the love that we lost. To go from feeling such devastating sadness and grief to feeling such joy and hope of a new love only to be disappointed does indeed feel like a roller coaster car careening off the tracks. It gets better… You just havent found the right love.

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