YOU’RE NOT THE ONE
Copyright 2010, by Judy Unger
What we had I took away
There was nothing left at all anyway
You spoke of love, but that’s just a word
I can’t comprehend that line that I’ve heard before . . .
I’m sorry you’re hurt; I just couldn’t lie
I had empty feelings, and I don’t know why
We had to end it; I know it’s unfair
I wonder if I’ll ever be able to care for another
You demanded things I did not feel
I can’t express what is not real
The love you wanted wasn’t there
The pain you’ll just have to bear
Now that you’re gone I can say honestly
What we had is still special to me
I look back and remember the fun
But now I realize you’re not the one
You’re not the one for me
You’re not the one for me
When this song was recorded, I was still learning to sing after 30 years of silence:
Below are links to Part I of this story:
In December of 2009, my mother was recovering from surgery to repair her broken shoulder. I did not want her to have that surgery, but was pressured by doctors, my brother and my father into acquiescing. My mom was very susceptible to respiratory infections and had been coughing a lot the day before her surgery.
While I was visiting her, I could see she was having great difficulty breathing. Soon it became an emergency situation; she was intubated and put on a respirator. What followed was a horror. She had a tracheostomy a week later and was on a respirator for two months. There were few words to describe the day-to-day ordeal of watching her fight to live.
I truly dreaded waking up every morning to face my day.
I would go to the hospital to be with my mother and soothe her. When I wasn’t there, her hands were bound with restraints because otherwise she would pull out her tubes. In the evening, I’d leave the hospital, but often before I could go home I had to shop for food for my family. Because it was late, my husband and children stopped waiting for me to eat dinner with them.
I was completely overwhelmed by the unrelenting stress in my life.
Despite this difficult situation, there was one thing that I looked forward to doing: writing. Late at night, I sent email messages to family and friends who wanted to know about my mother’s condition. Those desperate messages I typed late at night were filled with honesty. Many of my friends told me how they were hanging on my words. I barely ever saw my husband and because he disliked reading he didn’t want me to send him any updates.
It was then when I realized how lonely I was and how much I loved writing.
Miraculously, after two months my mother was weaned off the respirator and released from the hospital into a skilled nursing facility. She never went back to assisted living and was separated from my father. In retrospect, I see how her dementia accelerated after this ordeal.
Gradually I was able to get back to a semblance of my former existence. But something had changed for me; I had discovered how comforting it was for me to express my feelings by writing.
In February of 2010, I created this blog and my fabulous journey of insight began!
During the time that my mother was on a respirator, I shared my email messages freely. It was probably because I felt so isolated and lonely; the support I received really fueled me. More and more I opened up to share my honest feelings. On one of my messages I mentioned how I was a songwriter before I was married.
My childhood friend, Joni asked me why I wasn’t playing my guitar anymore. She remembered how much I had loved playing while in high school and offered to introduce me to a Grammy-winning music producer she knew.
With that incentive, I picked up my guitar and began to play again after 30 years. The more I sang and played my guitar, the more my life began to change.
One of the most interesting parts of my journey has been how I’ve reconnected with many people from my past.
As a result of updating a former neighbor from my childhood, I was reunited with her son, Steve. He was my childhood playmate and ended up helping me tremendously with music recording. I was so fortunate to have reconnected with him.
Once my blog and life story were out on the Internet, many people from my past began to pop back into my life.
Probably the most beautiful story of all is how I re-established a wonderful friendship with my former high school boyfriend, whom I will refer to as “Dr. Sam.”
I met Sam in high school, when I was 15 years old. It was sweet how we both attended each other’s high school prom; he was two years older than I.
Sam and I dated on and off for four years. When we were “off,” it was strictly a result of my pushing him away. Sam was patient with me, even though I was fickle and kept breaking up with him. But after four years, our break-up became final. I had told both him and my future husband that I would spend New Year’s Eve with them. I was forced to choose.
Not long after that, Sam began dating and later on was engaged to a good friend of mine. Her name was Carol and I lost touch with both of them.
I actually reunited with Carol and it’s been delightful. She did not marry Sam and he gave me information to find her.
Back in 1975 when I first met Sam, I had just started learning how to play the guitar. After our final break up I wrote my very first original song, which I named, “You’re Not the One.”
He never heard my song back then, but he has now!
I was always a little embarrassed by “You’re Not the One.” Recently, when I sang a new vocal I was reminded of my anguish over hurting such a nice guy. Clearly, I was unsure about what I wanted and felt pressured to find “the one.”
It’s interesting how I treated my future husband much the way I did Sam. I broke up with him also after feeling pressured. During that time period, I wrote my song “Saying Goodbye.”
But eventually I reunited with my future husband and decided he was “the one.”
I married when I was twenty-one and until this year I never lived on my own.
I am certain I was far too young to have gotten married. At that time in my life, I didn’t see any other options. My parents discouraged me from living on my own because it was something “good girls” didn’t do. I couldn’t imagine challenging them.
As I cope with separation and divorce, memories are triggered because I live in the same apartment where I grew up.
My childhood home is once again a “cocoon.” I often picture my mother cooking in the kitchen and can even smell those delicious aromas in my mind. I sleep in the same bed where my parents’ once slept; I used to wake them up with frequent nightmares as a child and can picture myself shaking my mother awake. I still hear my father’s voice correcting my grammar and telling me to stand up straight and not chew on ice.
And almost every day, I walk right near the high school where Sam and I used to stroll hand in hand.
I realize that I had no idea what it meant to find “the one.”
My husband captured my heart especially because he loved my music when we were dating. Once we were married, I stopped playing my guitar.
I felt a lot of pressure to succeed as an artist. The story I told myself was that I needed to choose between art and music. I did succeed in establishing myself as a commercial artist. My career became my “baby” and I didn’t really think I wanted children.
But seven years after I was married, I decided perhaps it was time for me to become a mother. I was not happy, but did not examine my marriage. I had my first child and went into survival mode because he was sickly. Jason had a severe congenital heart defect and died when he was five.
For another two decades, I became a tireless advocate for all three of my other children because they required it. I fought the school district to get them the help they needed.
Through all of that, I stayed married when the odds were against it.
I stuck with my decision for 31 years and celebrate the beautiful children that my husband and I created together.
My musical journey began with my attempt to remember every song that I wrote prior to the age of 21. As I recorded those songs, I expanded many of them by adding new verses, choruses and lyrics.
For “You’re Not The One,” I did not change one word.
I arranged and recorded the “very first song I ever wrote” in October of 2010. I posted it to my blog and wrote about my high school boyfriend. I put pictures of us with the story, but covered Sam’s face with a big heart.
It was about a month later when I received a comment on that story. It was from Sam. I was in shock!
We began emailing to share about our lives after over thirty years. I wrote a story about our reunion on this blog.
Below are links to stories about our reunion:
It has been almost three years since our reconnecting.
I have only physically met Sam twice. The first time was when I invited him and his wife to my home and wrote my reunion story. The second time was when my mother broke her hip and he came to the hospital to offer me advice and support.
Sam is not only a successful physician; he is the head of the American Medical Association of Southern California.
I must say that it has been a godsend to have such a compassionate and terrific doctor as my friend. Sam has been extremely kind to friends of mine by giving advice and coming to their rescue. He is happily married with four wonderful children. When I met his wife, I was very impressed with her. She was beautiful and kind.
Sam is a practicing Orthodox Jew and has strong viewpoints. I appreciate our dialogs because it has forced me to clarify my feelings in order to explain things to him. I wrote a lot more about grief than I ever expected to in order to answer his questions. Many times, he has triggered intense reactions from me.
I wrote this post for two reasons. One reason is because last week I recorded a new vocal for my song “You’re Not the One.”
The other reason is that I am ready to start sharing more of my feelings related to why I chose to get divorced and start a new life.
On my next post, I plan to share an email dialog with Sam when I told him I was planning to leave my husband.
© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Judy Unger with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.