My heart, I used to think of it as a fragile thing. Easily broken, hard to mend. I built up walls to protect it, to protect myself. But I got lost behind the walls.
There is no perfect love, no knight in shining armour. I have given up on the search for ‘the one’. I thought I’d given up on love.
But I learned that no one loves you the same as you love them… that no one loves the same full stop. That what I need to do is to accept the love that’s offered, and if it’s not acceptable then to walk away. That love shouldn’t mean obsession and losing your soul, it shouldn’t feel like your heart is being ripped from your chest. I learned that unrequited love isn’t the end of the world.
I learned that my heart is strong, despite being easily broken. I learned that the walls don’t protect me from anything, they prevent me from everything.
I’ve learned about love, maybe too late.
I always thought that I was empathetic. I had no idea I wasn’t until I got the results of a test and I asked my best friend about it.
My best friend has known me for over 25 years, so I guess she knows me pretty well. I told her about the test results and that I was shocked. She told me that I tend to react to how things affect me first, that my first thought is of the impact upon my life.
It’s upsetting to hear that. It makes me sound selfish and self absorbed. It makes me feel like I’m not a very nice person. But I’ve caught myself doing it, so I know it’s true.
For me it goes much further than drunk texting. I also drunk blog, drunk comment on blogs, drunk post on social networking sites, drunk message on messaging apps, drunk post on a personals page… and I forget that I’ve done it. It always comes as a shock when I find the post/text/comment.
Why do I think I have something important or profound or amusing to say when I’m pissed? It’s usually nonsense … and I usually cringe at my drunken blurb.
Thank dog that mobile phones and the internet weren’t around when I was in my early 20’s! I dread to think what I would have posted.
No matter where I look, if there’s a blob, a hump, a mound at the roadside, I see dead things. The last turned out to be a poo bag.
I turned to my friend and I wished that I was an old hippy who saw moon dust, fairy sprinkles and rainbows. Anything is surely better than seeing the innocent killed at the roadside.
I wished sometimes that I saw dead people 😉
A friend has said a couple of times that I should look for a relationship. I disagree. Although I’m not sure that another play partner will be right for me either. I’m ready for neither at the moment, it takes me time to move on. I think maybe, once I’m ready, something somewhere in between would be better. Is that possible?
You see a 24/7 thing isn’t what I want, I have no desire to live with someone (even if I love them). But I want to be comfortable with being able to touch and kiss the person (not just during sex) when I’m with them, and I found that difficult within a play partnership. Mainly because it was a new situation and I didn’t know the rules. I have difficulty working out the rules… it’s better if someone can enlighten me 🙂
Are there people out there who want the something in between? Does everyone think that moving in together at some point is inevitable? (If so, I’m doomed!) But surely there are a few people my age (ish) who are happy within their own space and would be happy with a relationship without the need to live together and do the 24/7 thing? I can’t see me being the only one!
I guess, once I’m ready to look, I’ll find out 🙂
The rarity of an almost silence! Sitting without any music, any tv, anyone speaking is a thing to treasure. In the distance there’s the hum of an aeroplane, the calls of children, but neither disturbs the almost silence. Four dogs lay on the floor before me, not disturbing the almost silence. Even the noise in my head becomes softer so as to not disturb the almost silence.
Today I actually spoke to someone I used to work with. My initial thoughts were to scuttle away and pretend that I didn’t exist. But instead I called out ‘hello’. After which followed the usual small talk (insert eye roll here), how are you, I’m ok thanks, etc. Then she pointed out my skin.
I have acne rosacea. It flares up when I’ve been through an episode of anxiety. It’s fairly bad at the moment. There endeth the small talk… she scuttled away when I explained this.
But, I spoke to someone today.
Today marks the start of the 3rd stage of 9 days. And I get some satisfaction that whilst the chaos has raged around me I’ve stuck fast to my attempts to control something. It hasn’t made the chaos any calmer, but it has given me a point of focus as I try to weather the storm.
A hopeless romantic, a cynic and a realist walk into a bar. The barman says “what can I get you?” I say “give me a minute I haven’t made my mind up yet.”
When you don’t understand the nuances of life that everyone else appears to be comfortable with, life seems difficult. When people use symbols which can be misinterpreted life seems difficult. And in trying to make sense of it all in conjunction with trying to make sense of your connection to them things become jumbled.
Change is hard for everyone. Change for me means trying to work out how I fit in with this new situation down to the minutest detail. So any interaction is gone over, from various angles, trying to work out what it all means. Every small detail makes me over think.