I feel so betrayed. I'm feeling rejected and disregarded. It's vulnerable to admit, but it's the truth of how I feel. It feels shameful and painful to not be loved the way I desire to be. It's not a story I like to share, but I hope it can help others dealing with betrayal.
Last Thanksgiving, I got a baby lovebird named Walter. Walter is bright green, orange, and turquoise. He's a beautiful, ornery little guy, and I love his tweet-tweet-quack throughout the house.
I decided to get just one lovebird because everything I read said that if you get two they bond to each other, and if you get just one, they will bond to you. So, one little Walter it was.
I do all the right things for him to attach to me. I play with him, feed him by hand, and let him flit around outside the cage a little each day. He gets treats and toys and just a bit spoiled. This 4-inch-tall bird has a cage equivalent to a 10-story building.
I also have a 9-year-old dog named Murphy. I hadn't had Walter very long when I realized each time Murphy came around, Walter got very excited. Then, I realized if he hears Murphy's dog tags jingle from all the way down stairs, he'll start squawking. He loves chasing and then hiding from the Murph-man.
It didn't happen all at once. It happened slowly and almost imperceptibly. My heart hurts just thinking about it. I nurtured little Walter and so wanted him to be mine.
Instead, he bonded with the damn dog. He chases the dog and cannot stand to be away from him. Murphy on the other hand, just wants to bite the bright, fuzzy, flying, squeaky toy. Walter nibbles Murphy's patootie and then flies away before Murphy can take a swing at him.
Now they are so bonded Walter won't come to me or go back in the cage for me. Ugh! Why is love so fickle? If I want Walter to get back in his cage, I have to hold Murphy near the cage. Walter will land on me and then he's willing to go in the cage. Not because of me, but because of that damn dog.
I tried to determine if Walter really loved Murphy that much or if it was just the jingle bell dog tags he was attracted to. I took Murphy's collar off, went back in the room with it, and that #$%^&* bird would have nothing to do with me. I can't even manipulate a stinkin' bird.
So, after much hullabaloo, I decided I'm glad they have each other. They are pretty cute together.
Okay, that's a lie. I want that *&^%$#$ bird to love me and only me. Yes, I have slid to the level of codependency with a bird. I'm codependent with a bird who is addicted to a dog. Pathetic.
Without vulnerability and desire there is no room for betrayal. Life is clean, tidy, and oh so lonely. Murphy is that bird's best bud, and I am unable to control it. I hate that. But I have also lived without vulnerability and desire, and I hate that more.