This morning while putting pen to paper for my own peace of mind - a thing I do to sort out the whirling dervish in my head - I curiously found myself writing a blog-like entry instead...I debated voicing these thoughts semi-publicly given their subject matter. Perhaps this is more human nature than a secret, but in some ways I am deeply private and it takes a certain courage to say: Dirty Little Secret #6: Sometimes I have pretty dark/deep/self-deprecating thoughts. Things so easy to think yet hard to say aloud for fear they might become real. The words of that voice in your head - let's call it Iago - that makes you doubt yourself...and others. Usually I am good at telling Iago to "fuck off," but sometimes I lose that battle and give in to all the "truths" it tells me.
I have been alone for a LOOONNNGGGG time, and (spoiler alert: until recently) I haven't met someone even slightly inspiring in the LOOOOOOONGEST time. Normally, this bothers me little or not at all, but every once in a while, I have some spark that triggers an internal meltdown, releasing all the unspeakable things. For one, I miss My Ex, or at least I miss the idea of us - the laughter, good plans, great sex. He was in some ways my greatest joy, yet the catalyst of some of my deepest sorrows - we don't work, we won't work. Yet, I haven't felt things like I did with him...probably ever since. I rarely meet people who make me look twice, and I KNOW when someone is special;.it's a palpable gut feeling, but that still doesn't mean things will work out. Men roll off me like water off a duck...
Recently a blip popped up on RADAR I thought was busted from the last crash and burn in my love/social life. I hardly noticed the blip, but then it was right in the center screen, blinking bright green, impossible to ignore. Outside factors and complications aside, the more I learned about him the more I wanted to ask and know. And the chemistry is/was off the charts - head spinning, can't think straight let alone at all, giddy "love" drunkenness - yet he hasn't really followed through...like most men I've encountered for the last couple years. And this spark, this ember, this hope I didn't want was brought to life to die, in all likelihood, before even being fully born.
It doesn't seem fair - I know, I know, life by default isn't, but still - I was fine on my own, this is always when guys pop up, and now I just can't help wonder "what if?" One can argue "If it's meant to be, it'll work out," and this is my overall philosophy - when I can push Iago aside - but it's hard to have one night, a glimpse and then nothing...well, a few text convos and likely empty promises, so next to nothing. I think of things I would have done differently - orgasm? yes, please; stay the night? absolutely. I wonder if he's just that busy, if I did something wrong or if there really IS something inherently wrong with me..."unlovable" whispers Iago. A thought that haunts me from time to time, an Achilles heel of pain.
One of my favorite movies, Shawshank Redemption, captures the essence perfectly: "Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope can drive a man insane." Or in other words: Hope is a tease...a trap. Mainly because we need hope to be able to dare to risk all and do great things, to hang in when times are tough or we're stuck in life's doldrums. I know many of my single friends share similar frustrations and sentiments - The Window Shopper and I have discussed this in-depth on more than one occasion, in fact she wrote about it eloquently, yet briefly in her personal blog. The crazy, weird, maybe even obvious thing is, they're fabulous. WE'RE fabulous, flaws and all. We're single because we know it's worth waiting for our "lobsters." We're not waiting for someone(s) to complete us, we're learning to be whole ourselves first and hoping - there's that nasty word again - that we'll find someone(s) to join us on our grand adventures. Like romping around with complete abandon on a playground in near total darkness after dancing like a fool all night at the beach bar. I hope I never outgrow that lust for life...
By The DLS