Here’s the sad thing about me – I have never been loved nor I’ve been in love.
Read it carefully. Let the incredulity and bemusement wash over you. Roll your eyes and roll your eyes, sarcastically remarking “drama queen”, liar, bullshiter. Let it in and feel thoroughly, and then come back and read – I have never been loved nor I’ve been in love.
Now let it sink. Brush off the bigotry and disbelief ; leave “it’s not possible” outside. There’s no such things as “not possible”.
It’s possible. I am a living proof of it.
To be fair, I cannot say if anyone loved me in secret, because that’s rather the point of “secret.” Thus, as it stands, I confidently say – thirty years in life and I have no forking idea what love is.
I know what infatuation is – this passionate spark for a night. Quite charming that little thing.
Nothing deeper ever graced my constantly scared of pain and betrayal brain. I swear it could convince my heart of just about anything. Not that that cold, distrusting, sarcastic bitch needs much convincing.
Anyhow, even if I wanted to settle – there’s nobody to settle with. To this day I had two semi-admirers if you could call them that? I’m pretty sure you can’t, but beggars cannot be choosers, now can they? 🙂
But that’s alright. I’m done with beginning for anything – humans are not worth it. Sorry not sorry.
Realistically, I do realise that I must give chances to others and that the jackasses I’ve rarely but unfortunately stumbled upon are not the representatives of the whole species, but … I am a bit tired.
I’ve been giving and giving, finding a ray of sunshine in shit-storm, to be spewed at anyway; and – bo-hoo- I forking give-up.
It’s became so bad…so pitifully, pathetically wrong that I’m getting addicted to the simplest politeness, going all starry-eyed and desperately flushed by the – nothing!
Gods, I’m contemplating – half-heartedly and half-teasingly – things I would not be caught dead contemplating.
Fork, it’s embarrassing.
Naturally, my perception may change. I am allowed to ditch my previous principles in the face of the better prospect – I evolve and grow – this is perfectly fine to change one’s mind – but not from better to worse.
I mean I firmly believe: better to die alone then to be stuck with someone you don’t want. You spoil two (or more) lives that way.
But, recently, I just long for the companionship. I was standing outside for so long, peaking through the glass at all those humans who had someone – anyone – alone – and I just want it. I want for a moment to feel, like I matter to someone; like I’m the one whom they wish to be with; want to see, speak to…love.
Again, I am aware, it’s not possible. My life gave a clear indication that I will not be on the other side – I am not made to be loved.
and that’s…all right, I guess. Nobody had died from loneliness, not that I have any idea what it actually is. I know the concept. I can vaguely simulate the feeling, but in order to properly feel it – I need to know the joy of belonging and I never had that, so…loneliness, like love is a concept for me, nothing more.
But…what’s interesting in all this, is that my brain is starting to waver. The “human” longings start to rob on it – again – so, it starts clinging to anyone who shows kindness to it, like a starving hound jumps on the scraps of food.
It’s an illusion. I’ve been caught in it enough times to recognise the signs. My brain will suck in the appropriate amount of adoration and then discard the person, leaving me with the consequences or worse get infatuated and then something will go awry, because it will be constantly searching for reasons to cripple the connection.
Trust issues. I have severe trust issues, thus, every little insignificant thing triggers me. I manage them to the best of my abilities, but nothing can survive under the constant assault, especially when I’m not keen on loosing my autonomy.
I have lived alone for as long as I can remember myself. I have craved company and adoration, but early in the years I’ve got burned and betrayed severely, thus, I learned to function without said things and since then my attempts to connect kept brilliantly burning in flames of misunderstandings and mistrust.
I acknowledge that part of the blame lies on me. From those proverbial ten steps, five are still mine and many times I’ve got tangled in my own insecurities and fell before I could make those.
I, also, realise that’s it silly to wish for someone foolishly brave enough to ignore my snarling and awkward form, rolling in the sand, not knowing where to go – and actually make six or seven steps to flick me on my nose and connect anyway.
I know from experience how forking worse it hurts, when you actually put extra effort in to be spewed at afterwards. I would not wish that kind of pain upon anyone.
Plus, who said I am worth it, right? Surely, my life heavy hints on my total unworthiness of the effort.
Gosh, you should see me spinning beautiful romantic stories when someone asks me about my “dating life” – lies are safer than the truths. In our culture of romanticising forking anything, I would surely sound mental if I ever attempt to share my…struggle?
They will not understand, and I don’t need to hear another – your standards are to high or character too picky, or anything else degrading (‘cos you obviously guessed that I am a desperately naive fool and actually tried to open up a few times). I know I’m wrong, all right !? Wrong, twisted, unloved and unwanted. Life made it pretty clear for me, no need to add more, please.
With that being said, however, I do love myself. I obviously struggled in the beginning – my situation damaged my self-image, self-worth and self-love severely. But, I got thorough it. I will love myself even if nobody else will. At least, me deserves to be loved by me.
And, unfortunately, I will not change myself (not any more) to fit someone’s fantasy or needs. I will only change for myself; if I feel the need for it.
Like I feel the need to change now, or rather find the balance.
Lately, I’ve decided to just leave it be; to accept my situation and move on with life alone, like I suppose I was designed to be, but at the same time, I am not willing to cross people out of my life. I still wish to connect with them; exchange opinions, ideas, emotions.
I do not wish to become a misanthrope. Humans in general are not a pretty picture, but in singular – there is an enormous amount of pretty and forking amazing out there.
But, because of the clusterfork that was happening with my relations, I became bitter and resigned, snarking and mistrusting more than usual, and I wish to break it.
I wish to become “Zen.” I wish to find the equilibrium between my independence and partnership. I wish to break the habit of failing before I’ve made those five steps.