Post Covid America, for some, has created phantom worlds. For a woman who is dating and hoping to become a part of somebody’s life, I must accept that everybody and anybody he loves is on the opposite end of a text message.
People have no faces, they have no voices. They have no mannerisms. They are nothing more than, if I’m lucky, a snapshot on Facebook. That is all that I will ever know about anybody in my man’s world.
I have heard very enthusiastic stories about the last 57 years. I know that they have all lived one hell of a life with one hell of a man.
That leads me to wonder, what do they know about me? Was I a phantom?
I’ve never had a voice. I’ve never been a face. I don’t have behaviors. Just a first name.
Am I the phantom on the opposite end of a text message for them? Am I simply a snapshot on Facebook? Because, if I am, I promise that that is not a very clear picture of who I am, what I’m like, what I do, how I feel, what I think, and what I need.
When one does not know anything about anybody, they are phantoms. It used to be that one could stop by the office, drop off a coffee and get a clear view of the room.
In that situation, people would be visible and use their voice to exchange a hello. Over time, perhaps behaviors would be apparent. One could take that view and insert things heard into the mouth from where they came.
I have heard the stories, enthusiastically, about the things that happened with the men from the past.
I have heard when he comes home from a birthday celebration that everyone had a great time. He’s elated and FB has a pic of 5 shining faces.
I felt, it’s a shame I couldn’t meet them. Three years later, it’s still a shame.
I don’t want to be a phantom anymore. I don’t want to sit up here on this pedestal all by myself, standing on the outside of a relationship, looking in. Knowing that he has all these other relationships, and all of these relationships matter very deeply to him but, there is no room for anyone new. That’s a sad and wonderful thing.
I’m honestly, humbly jealous. Because of conscious choices I have made, I wish I had that. I don’t.
I can’t do this anymore. I cannot be a phantom in a phantom world. It just isn’t healthy for me.
I know an effort has been made and I, also, know that none of those requests have come together. My man is a good person. He has a name, he has a face, he has behaviors, and he’s a living teddy bear. He is the nicest person on earth. He has the last 50 years of his life with others.
With me. Our relationship is just me.
One on one, all day, every day, non stop, with nothing but stories about others.
He speaks.
I just am.
It’s too late for us, but it was important for me to be able to say this out loud because I suspect that there are other people in the world who are trying to fit into a new relationship with a new person in this distant workplace environment.
I suspect that I am not the only person who feels they are standing on the outside looking in, to see phantoms.
So, what’s to be done?
If this person in your life is someone that you would like to see being happy, find a way to remove the phantoms.
Don’t be a phantom yourself.
This is 2024, your options are many. Give yourself a name, give yourself a face. Give yourself a voice and give yourself mannerisms, while taking in all of those things about this new person in his /her/their world.
Have a visible exchange, make each other laugh, soften the edges. Sometimes a visible hello, directly from a person, can live a very long life.
We hear you,
deMichelle
WIGT, WIGT….what I’m going through while I’m going through it
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