Special or Not

Ah yes, the specialness topic.

This came up recently when T and I were talking and she basically said that she doesn’t feel special because he could have "had this" with anyone.  I tried to explain to her that no, no one else could have filled the space in his life, or in mine, that she has.  I’m not altogether sure she believed it. The reality is, there were three women in the past who brought the idea of bringing someone else into our relationship to the front.  One was just never going to work out that way.  The second would have been welcome, but also temporary.  The third… well, let’s just leave her out of this, but that was not going to happen, not like this if it ever had a chance of happening.

That in and of itself means that T is, just by being who she is, special. 

I do recall however, that there was a time when I also struggled with a very similar problem with J, and I was the only relationship he had at the time!  I never dated a lot.  J dated extensively.  It meant that there were things I hadn’t done with anyone and these things were thus, "special" to me.  Unfortunately, J had done just about everything. Reading stories that were nearly sacred to me, with others. Specially cooked foods, prepared for him by others.  The list was just endless, and it caused me so much pain at the time, and so much sadness.  If he’d done everything with everyone else, then how would I be any different than anyone else had been?  Why be with me rather than someone else?

Hear that insecurity in there?  I didn’t then, but I sure do now!

Eventually, I stopped caring what someone else had done.  If something was special to me, then it was special.  If sharing something about myself with him, be it a story I loved, a song that meant something to me, or whatever else, then it was special.  It was special to me, and it was special to him that I chose to share it with him in that moment.  Over time, that even faded out to, "I am special, and I know he finds me special because we are together."  Now it’s not about being special, to me anymore.  Our entire relationship is special, to me and to him, and I know this because of the time and energy we put into that relationship.  True, the time seems tight of late, but the relationship exists.

I’ve given both of them the information for this blog, and I do hope that T reads it sometimes.  I hope that if she does she can understand, it’s not the history that J and I have or the fact that she and J are just beginning to write their history; it’s not the things we’ve done or the places we’ve been or the fact that she and J have a long list of places they want to go together; it’s not the way he smiles at me or the way he smiles at her.  If she wasn’t someone very special, he wouldn’t have been interested in her to start with.  If she wasn’t someone very special, I wouldn’t have wanted this to happen for them.

T, I do understand the feeling, but all I can tell you is that you’ll feel special when you accept, at last, that you are special because of who you are.  It’s not the actions, it’s the people, that’s what makes any relationship special, whether it’s exclusive or not.  He loved you enough to risk losing me to just tell me that he loved you.  I loved you both enough to take the chance that opening our relationship and having you with J could destroy everything for all of us… just to take the chance.  Neither of us would take risks like that for someone we didn’t both feel was indefinably special.  I just hope that someday, you’ll come to the realization that the thing that makes your relationship with J something special is that it exists at all.  *many hugs*

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s