new year, new beginning?
i have so much in my head, less in my fingers, and so little time to put it all here. a new boy has taken a space in my life, some months going. he has confessed that he is in love with me. and while people can say that, or think that, and have it not mean much, or not know what they really are loving, i believe he means it, and that he knows what he is talking about. that is to say, that he has taken the time to get to know me, he has taken the time to really see me. i don't have to pretend to be anything around him, i am perfect, as i am, in his eyes. i feel that. i get it. and after all this time, the tumultuous rocky unrequited loves that i have had for others, the stupid in the moment loves others have had for me, in the face of all this, the boy has grown to mean something to me.
mean what though? mean that i'm lovable, after all, for more than an evening, or a week? mean that sooner or later people come around that care? mean what?
i'm extraordinarily challenged in relationships. maybe i should say that i'm very challenging for others to be with. i change my mind constantly, i'm maddening in my habits, and in my handling of time. as the years pass, i've become increasingly aware of a distinct aversion to intimacy. this manifests in all sorts of adverse subconscious ways. energetically, very much so. i'm a tricky cat, to say the least.
but i've always staged even this as something that made me interesting, unique. that wild flower, how can we help but root for her, in the struggle, how romantic, how free, how fun. but in light of this situation i'm finding that i'm tired, and exhausted from it. the presence of a relationship has managed to stabilize me. i don't like to admit this, but its true.
you out there, reading, may say to yourself how great this all is, how wonderful this news. and i, sitting here must grimly report that i don't feel wonderful at all. i'm still thinking about this greek that i met and somehow let through my fingers, i'm sitting here sobered by the prospect that i am not filled with burning desire for the boy i am with, how i always seem to want more, how all the time what i have doesn't seem good enough, and what is good enough doesn't ever put up with me. how when i love, it is hopeless, stark raving mad, and when the good love comes and stares me in the face, i'm just... passive. resigned. accepting.
there isn't an accurate way to pull this feeling into words. its not that i don't like my suitor, i do, i find him charming, and adorable, and so very sweet. but i'm lukewarm in the space of feeling passion for him. and this becomes a dangerous dance where i keep him but don't love him, where he's with me but can never have me... it all seems like a storm, like a bad scene waiting to happen.
and yet, when i've loved, i have been consumed, incredibly stupid, set a fire, insane. not healthy, the opposite of stable, when i've been in love. is that what i really want, really?
bah~! when will i ever grow out of writing about love, the presence of love, the absence of love, who loves me, and who i am in love with? it always comes to this point, where i just get disgusted at myself, and this incredibly narrow focus of mine.
yes, that's point i've come to, right here...
right now.
mean what though? mean that i'm lovable, after all, for more than an evening, or a week? mean that sooner or later people come around that care? mean what?
i'm extraordinarily challenged in relationships. maybe i should say that i'm very challenging for others to be with. i change my mind constantly, i'm maddening in my habits, and in my handling of time. as the years pass, i've become increasingly aware of a distinct aversion to intimacy. this manifests in all sorts of adverse subconscious ways. energetically, very much so. i'm a tricky cat, to say the least.
but i've always staged even this as something that made me interesting, unique. that wild flower, how can we help but root for her, in the struggle, how romantic, how free, how fun. but in light of this situation i'm finding that i'm tired, and exhausted from it. the presence of a relationship has managed to stabilize me. i don't like to admit this, but its true.
you out there, reading, may say to yourself how great this all is, how wonderful this news. and i, sitting here must grimly report that i don't feel wonderful at all. i'm still thinking about this greek that i met and somehow let through my fingers, i'm sitting here sobered by the prospect that i am not filled with burning desire for the boy i am with, how i always seem to want more, how all the time what i have doesn't seem good enough, and what is good enough doesn't ever put up with me. how when i love, it is hopeless, stark raving mad, and when the good love comes and stares me in the face, i'm just... passive. resigned. accepting.
there isn't an accurate way to pull this feeling into words. its not that i don't like my suitor, i do, i find him charming, and adorable, and so very sweet. but i'm lukewarm in the space of feeling passion for him. and this becomes a dangerous dance where i keep him but don't love him, where he's with me but can never have me... it all seems like a storm, like a bad scene waiting to happen.
and yet, when i've loved, i have been consumed, incredibly stupid, set a fire, insane. not healthy, the opposite of stable, when i've been in love. is that what i really want, really?
bah~! when will i ever grow out of writing about love, the presence of love, the absence of love, who loves me, and who i am in love with? it always comes to this point, where i just get disgusted at myself, and this incredibly narrow focus of mine.
yes, that's point i've come to, right here...
right now.
posted by sheloves at 4:50 PM
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