Background Bits Needed For Later Parts

Image by brentdanley via Flickr

Before I go into further detail about the evening that Roman died, and before I share about subsequent events surrounding his memorial, I think it would help readers if I back up briefly and tell a little bit about Roman’s history and character, and illustrate a few details related to our marriage.

Roman was the youngest of six kids.  His determined mom raised the brood alone, after his father passed away suddenly, when Roman was just four years old.  Often half joking with childlike delight, Roman boasted about his status as his mother’s “favorite” and her “baby” among the clan; he clearly loved his mother deeply.  However, the lofty responsibility she shouldered in raising a family of six children alone (four of which were young enough to be considered children – two of which were teens), she often could not give Roman the personal attention he craved as he grew.

Roman confessed to me early on in our relationship, on more than one occasion, that he regularly felt ignored and disconnected from his mother as a child.  Logically, he came to understand the reality of her prior struggle once he became an adult himself - and as such, he eventually recognized how much she gave in raising the family alone.  Adulthood taught Roman that his mother had not ignored him, but rather, she simply attended to him in a more practical way, by ensuring he had food, clothes, and a roof over his head - as opposed to doting on him affectionately as he secretly longed for in his early years.
 
Nonetheless, adult cogency about his childhood did little to help his ongoing perception of being invisible and unimportant to others.  A perception I long knew he held, but was unable to permeate while he was alive.  One I eventually confirmed existed though, after discovering his personal journals following his passing.

At times noticeably awkward with people, Roman generally maintained an aloof, exclusionary social air.  On occasions when he did give an effort, he presented as either a lighthearted clown or a gritty debater for the most part.  Roman rarely occupied a happy medium social ease with others.  On the contrary, proving his superiority by arguing circles around those with less cognitive prowess during philosophical debate and/or blowing people’s minds with bold, random acts of comedy, were his most frequent and preferred means of impression making.

As a result, some were intrigued and appreciated Roman for his genius and his offbeat wit, while others decidedly were not.  Without a doubt though, when we first met, I thought he was bright, interesting, and positively hilarious.  Qualities that initially blinded me to the interpersonal deficits that Roman possessed, which would later factor heavily on my decision to pursue separation after learning of his infidelity.
 
While initially faint, it became increasingly obvious as time marched on in our marriage, that Roman held deeply rooted negative beliefs about human nature in general, and consequently, had zero desire to connect with others in a meaningful way.  That is, with one caveat; Roman was not interested in others, unless others were particularly interested in him.  Accordingly, with specific ego considerations being met by others, Roman in turn, was capable of projecting an outward persona that was distinctly enigmatic.  Moreover, being that he occupied the focus of my attention in the early days of our relationship, I initially was privy only to the charming side of him.

Time has a way of diminishing the initial awe in relationships though, and gradually as I got to know him better, the charm often shown to me, no longer sufficed in out weighing the lack of empathy or consideration he gave to others.  Without feeling sufficiently appreciated in his exchanges, Roman's responses to people were usually indifferent, but at times were outright condescending and rude.  Responses which he distributed equally amongst friends (which eventually diminished down to just one that I know of), colleagues, and immediate family; social ineptitude which I was increasingly bothered by.

I came to view Roman's attitudes and callous treatment of others as a serious character flaw, but was vexed at how someone with such astute genius (his IQ was in the 98th percentile) could also be so...well...frankly, dense.  And it was his intellect that I hoped would eventually fill in the social gaps...But it never did.

During our marriage, in contrast, the harder I tried to address my concerns and the greater effort I put into improving the deteriorating dynamics between us - and the more I attempted to understand Roman's alienated social paradigm - the more openly resistant he became and the more outwardly he reproached.

With the exception of admitting fault to me in the failure of our marriage, and then subsequently seeking counseling shortly before his death, Roman was never interested in challenging his outlook during our time together.  And unlike me, Roman saw no problem with his treatment of others.  Ensuing conditions, which left untreated, are hardly conducive to sustaining a happy, fruitful marriage.  As a result, I in turn withdrew and focused on my graduate studies, and Roman in turn focused secretly on pursuing women who saw only his charm.  Roman in turn, cheated.

I mention Roman’s inability and unwillingness to connect with others in detail now, because after his sudden death it repeatedly emerged as a seemingly insurmountable factor for me to contend with.  It affected me both in practical terms, as it was a significant factor in the planning and execution of his memorial service, as well as in personal terms, as it clouded the quality and scope of the grief I experienced.

It also further convoluted my already conflicted bereavement, by negating a potentially healing outlet.  That outlet being the ability to share in common healing memories with others who also knew him as I did.  But because Roman was who he was in life, I in turn had nobody I could really relate to as a means of processing his death.  Connecting with others' grief over the loss of a shared space he once occupied in our lives, was not an option.  Roman did not quite occupy shared space in the lives of any two people who knew him, other than the void from various levels of personal disconnect he left behind... 

Now hows that for a conundrum???

                                                                 The Animals - Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood