How shall I say this?
I understand that you are having some feelings for me. I don’t deny there is a really nice energy between us, a familiarity that settled in right from the start. A wave-length harmony.
We haven’t known each other for that long and plus you don’t speak English so you haven’t been reading up on this young blog about how right now I’m all about figuring out how to love myself and how to stop falling in and out of love with other people all the time.
So let me try to summarize my scene.
I have spent my entire life —starting in pre-school— chasing after boys, claiming them as my own whenever possible, then dropping them sooner, or later.
I’ll spare you the details of primary school and pubescent romance (though I could name each boy for you if you asked me to).
If we fast forward to adulthood, starting at the age of 21, I never didn’t have a boyfriend (or husband). The longest gap between relationships (in the 25 year period since then) was 5 and 1/2 months, and that was actually because I had very seriously challenged myself to not be in a relationship for a year.
Even during my marriage I was tempted by, or started falling in love with, other men.
The bridge out of my marriage was a new relationship. Quite often I’ll leave one guy for another. It has been rather never-ending.
It took me a very long time to see that this pattern of being drawn like a moth to the porch light to the nectar of new love, this unquenchable thirst for connection and the feeling of being cherished and desired, is my own worst addiction. No drinky, no (more) smokey, but smoochy smoochy and fluttery heart and love notes and holding hands and … you get the drift.
What’s the problem here, you may ask? So, you’re into love! Love is the greatest! So it didn’t work out sometimes. And sometimes it did. What could be more holy than love, and the union between two people?
And you’d have a point. Except for when you sense that a tendency has become so heavy/troublesome/repetitive that it’s caused see-saw to tip and stay stuck that way, you realize (if you’re ready to be honest with yourself) that there’s a problem. That you keep doing the same stupid shit. That you are turning in circles.
And one fine day (not so long ago!!) I also realized that in addition to blindly repeating my mistakes (which leaves destruction in its wake, believe me), I was also avoiding myself. Expecting the “lover” to compensate for the love I craved but wasn’t able to produce for myself. Asking the impossible. Feeling little and unworthy but wanting “him” to make me feel big and loveable and alive.
And ever since my last relationship flopped (with the squashed cherry on top of the maybe-but-no love affair with my beloved high-school friend), I have taken my vows again.
One year… but this time it won’t be 5 1/2 months. One year is the strictest minimum. Not because I want to torture myself. Not because I enjoy random challenges. Not because I like going against what’s natural for me.
Simply because, to speak in addiction terms, I need to recover.
I need to figure out what has been hiding behind this mad love scramble. What I find may not be pretty. This process of recovery may not be easy. But more than anything, I want to feel truly happy in this life, I want to grow and evolve enough so that I feel I’m coming back to myself. To the happy kid I once was. To the happy woman I know I can be.
So if you want to be in my life, which it would appear you do, I invite you to be my friend. Nothing more, nothing less. I hope you understand.