Posts Tagged ‘Love’

He expected mayhem, anger and accusations. He assumed the worst, and it proved in the end that he really doesn’t know me. I told him that the last 14 months have been an example of his ordering the entree and only eating the garnish. He never took a bite of the main dish, only looked at it, pushed it around with his fork and decided that it would cause him indigestion if he ate it. You see, it never was about me, any of it.

Trying to love someone who doesn’t love themselves, who doesn’t trust themselves, and who is an eternal pessimist at their core, well, it’s pretty tricky and apparently, doesn’t usually succeed. It is  impossible to show them how worthy they are, they need to find it and feel it in themselves.  He told me a story of himself as a child, to illustrate how long he has been this way; I explained that at some point though, we do have the power to make positive changes to our thinking patterns. That I was a very angry teenager and into my 20’s. It took a lot of work, and sometimes falling back into old patterns, but eventually I was able to look at things and see the positive in life, see how anger was affecting me and limiting me and shutting me off.

He told me that everything ends, and usually badly. That he hasn’t seen examples of it working, of there not being heartbreak, of him not being the cause.  Boy with a fragile sense of self enters the dating world and is eaten alive. Now, at 39, he is so deeply imbedded into a pattern of belief that everything he touches, everyone he touches, will break. How do you convince someone otherwise? How do you hold someones hand and show them that they deserve to not be alone. They deserve to let someone in and be loved. How do you do that, when they don’t believe in their core self that they are worthy of any love and that anyone who does love them, surely they must be fooled.

We had 5 hours of intense, heart-felt conversation. He teared up, I teared up. I told him somethings that he missed while he was pushing me away, things I had told him but he hadn’t heard above his own inner chatter. He apologized deeply, as he realized that he really dropped the ball more than a few times. What it came down to is that his disordered thinking, his disordered sense of self, his belief that he isn’t worthy of anyone’s love and respect because everyone is being fooled and eventually everyone will realize who he really is and then it will all explode, all of THIS is what is standing between he and I. Looking into his eyes and telling him how wonderful he is and forcing him to look back at me as I told him what I saw in him, the level of disbelief in his own eyes, the degree to which he can’t see how amazing and loveable he is, that is what is heartbreaking.

I asked him, what does he have left, if tomorrow the career were to end. Nothing he said. He has nothing outside of work. Friendships have been kept at a distance, mostly built through his colleagues. He has his cat. I told him that it truly doesn’t need to be that way. That letting people in doesn’t have to result in destruction, yet he has only ever walked away feeling destroyed each time he has let someone in.  But he has the best of intentions, when he begins. He just can’t do it.

My flatmate came home and we moved our conversation to the bedroom. Later in the evening I looked up at him and asked me if he would be with me one last time. I felt so connected to him at that moment, I just wanted to hold on to it. He wouldn’t look at me, instead mumbling that he didn’t think it was a good idea. I asked him to look at me and repeated my question, asking if he wanted to be with me one last time. He said yes. We had an intensely passionate last few hours, we held each other tightly afterwards and slept for an hour, curled into each other, hands touching. In my hallway, we hugged. Longer and tighter and with more emotion than I have ever felt from him. He thanked me for everything. I told him that while I knew he wouldn’t, he knew where to find me, if ever…

Last night was the most senseless loss I have ever experienced. All because one little boy grew up thinking he was inherently not worth loving. If any of you have kids, please, love them. Let them know that they deserve it and that they are wonderful and unique and amazing. Otherwise, at 39, they may not be able to let people in, even those who are patient and love them beyond words and actions.

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I’ve never been as lonely as I have in those moments when I am missing him.
When I am seeking his voice on a day when 5 seconds on the telephone would make weeks of grey clouds clear.
When I hear people, celebrating, or just gathering together as friends on their decks on hot summer nights, and I can’t reach him, this is when I feel alone.

I’m in a moment of questioning. I have big answers now, but they don’t seem to make the questions fewer. I want the answer from the universe. Why? Why did you put us together, Type Geek and I? Am I supposed to teach him something, or visa versa? Give me the lesson plan already! Let me skip to the last chapter and see what the outcome is. I don’t even know what chapter I am in. I feel like I am living a slow French film, without the gratuitous sex. Like a French film, it will probably end abruptly, with no explanation and everyone in the audience will be left scratching their heads and looking to each other for understanding.

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It’s Valentine’s Day and I went to sleep at 4 am. I drove to Type Geek’s home last night, dropped off his things, tried to pick up my own and it didn’t happen. He didn’t answer the door, he didn’t answer his phone. I stood, on his porch, in full regalia. Tight charcoal grey dress, fishnets, vintage inspired cream and black t-strap heels, and a push up bra that rivals plastic surgery. Why? Multiple reasons. 1) I was aiming for reaction. I wanted him to see what he was fucking up. 2)I hoped I was wrong. I hoped there was any other explanation for everything and that possibly I would find myself in his arms.

An hour after I left, after picking up Haagen Daaz and sitting down to an ice cream sundae with magic shell,  I received a text. 15 minutes of back and forth texting, I said he owed me at least a 5 minute phone conversation. 40 minutes into that conversation I realized that, in many ways, I was wrong. It truly WASN’T about me, it was all about him and how deeply he is hiding away in his fear. What is he afraid of, I don’t think he even knows. He’s overwhelmed by life, by family, by career and by responsibility, and crippled by it all. This isn’t just about me and my pain. This is also about him and his pain. He apologized for it all, he realized he had no explanations, no excuses that were worth expounding on, in the end, he just chose to put his head down and not see me, rather than look up and at me.

My friends keep chanting, “down with the douche bag.” , but it isn’t that easy, is it? Not when you love someone, not when you find that one person who fits into your puzzle and who you can accept for all his or her scars, faults, fears and baggage and in the end, you can actually see yourself with this person, regardless of all of that. You can see yourself old with them, a lifetime of experiences behind you both, years of joy that reduce the emphasis of the painful moments we all experience as human beings. When you are in love with someone whose broken pieces fit into your missing pieces. Something deep and unexplainable, unreachable, tells me that this man is worth fighting for. I just don’t know what to fight when he doesn’t know why he’s hiding.

In the end, we are final. It is final. Unless another solution to this issue presents itself, my ten months with Type Geek have come to an end. I end this message, on Valentine’s Day, with tears. Tears over what I found, a truly open and aware love that I was unaware I was capable of, and tears over what he and I are losing, collectively.

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When we fall in love, when we surpass the weeee of it and step back, looking at the person, catalog their flaws and scars and realize that not only are we “in love” with them, but that we can honestly, love them with each of these flaws. That each body scar, each soul scar, is just a spice that has gone into the entire dish. Without each element, this gorgeously flawed man or woman wouldn’t be who they are, who we LOVE.

Now, what comes after we realize this? After we put our heart out there and ask for nothing in return, except respect. What happens when the respect goes out the window because the individual of our love, is so terrified by this love, that they do everything in their strength to make themselves so despicable that there is no way you could possibly continue to love them. If it was as simple as they didn’t like you, didn’t care, and just wanted a piece of ass, they would have dumped you months ago. Why the elaborate ruse? Why put that much effort into making the worst of two decisions?

10 months ago I met him, Type Geek. At first I was unenthused. He was interesting, but also, he seemed to lack depth, until I dug deeper. When I stopped seeing Cooper Fiennes I had considered bringing some other men into the fold, but then I considered it unfair to Type Geek. In side by side comparison he didn’t fare well. He was a workaholic who rarely let you in. He was shorter than what I was “looking for”. Bald, when I wanted hair to run my fingers through. A cat owner, when I hoped for someone to fall in love with my dog. For some reason, I decided that I would give him some solo Type Geek time, to see if the gem would sparkle on its own.

I’m not sure the moment I realized that I was in over my head, that I was suddenly facing a future I hadn’t planned for. When I was in his arms, when his face was beside mine, I had the sense of finding my way home. I could close my eyes and see into the future, imagine making him dinner for years to come, sharing a bed, sharing a life. Only, at some point he stopped sharing, he started erasing, with vigor.

The exhaustion has set in, I have cried myself to sleep too many nights in confusion, and I have come to realize that I have reached that point where if I continue on this path as it is, I do not deserve my own self respect. 6 days ago I left my last text. 5 days ago he texted me, telling me that , indeed, we should fuck soon. I didn’t respond. Is he back now? From his trip to wherever it is he truly went? It would seem so. Will I hear from him? At some point, I think. My presence is all over his apartment. He can’t ignore my existence forever. Will he realize his wrong doings? Quite possibly he already knows what they are, but that they are part of his plan. If I leave because I can’t handle it anymore, he hasn’t had to break my heart by dumping me. I once told him that he didn’t hold the power to break my heart, to hurt me yes, but to break my heart, no. Was that a challenge in his mind?

So, I ask all of you to send me super human strength, to keep me from texting him, from emailing him, because I miss him and the sound of his voice. Not the him that is being an utter ass, but the him that is truly behind all of the nonsense. The him that I love. The man who hides behind the boy.

10 months ago we said hello. How many days before we say goodbye?

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There might be some untruths occurring. To deal with this I have been swallowing my need to express, to demand answers and explanations NOW and waiting until the third round of business trips ends and he is sitting in front of me, the first time in over a month. This is the reason I have been silent. I haven’t been writing through my feelings. I have been cooking through them.  Making cheese and butter in my new kitchen. Rotisserie cornish game hens and pork loins. And then, I’ve been shedding a few tears when I find myself unable to find the inspiration to cook. He has brought an element of rediscovery into my cooking, becoming my food muse, and at times, when the confusion becomes deafening, my culinary skills are cut short. If I can’t cook, if sleep becomes elusive, I can find myself distracted mentally. Trying not to think of what I don’t want to, but unable to focus on anything else, my thoughts go into a haze, as a method of emotional separation. Then, some moments,  have been steeped in tears when I can’t decide what to do with my frenetic heart. When nothing else works. When it catches me before I see it coming.  Asking the universe for guidance and the patience required to wait and speak calmly in person. Asking the universe why something that is so perfect, is so imperfect, in a world that needs a little magic.

I don’t believe that love should be easy, I know that life is messy and complicated, and for that, I don’t assume that romance should be any different. But JESUS, does it need to be THIS complicated?

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The year started off with blueberry dotted chipotle, cracked cayenne, and alderwood smoked sea salt chocolate cupcakes … frosted with nutella. Some Lambrusco I picked up from my new local wine shoppe, conveniently run by a woman whom I had hot sex with for 3 months back in my late 20’s. The southerner whose Baton Rouge oozed out during orgasm when she let out her Oh Gawd’s with a twang. Jesus, that women was hot, and she still is pretty good-looking, if I am to be honest. We hadn’t seen each other in 5 years, since running into each other one evening at a bar. She was surprised to see me, but pleasantly so, it appeared.

Originally I had hoped to spend New Year’s Eve in varying degrees of undress… and giddy drunkenness. Unfortunately, the universe decided that Type Geek needed yet another colossal crisis that needed solving and so he trekked through the woods and went ice climbing to a mountain peak, where he then proceeded to camp, alone, and find the answers for the questions he has been presented. I get it, they are big questions, life and death questions, with very real consequences. I am disappointed, that is natural, but I do get it.

The universe then decided to test my own resolve… by bringing an old flirtation back online… he is back in the states from Argentina, where he has been doing some graduate work. Drunk, he flirted incessantly, and sent me a photo I had sent him a year prior. He thanked me for being an exhibitionist and, in his sexually aroused state of drunkenness, was asking to come over, asking for more photos. He ” didn’t want to ruin my relationship” though, didn’t want to interfere. Didn’t he understand that he doesn’t really have that power? I declined, explaining that things have changed for me. I’m sexually exclusive with someone I love, sure he isn’t my boyfriend, but he is someone whom I care deeply for and wish to keep around for a pretty long time.

I’m beginning the year in love, in frustration, in less control than ever before. I have moved in with other people, and realized one roommate is passive aggressive and quite intolerable, the one who confessed his feelings for me regarding his favoritism on OK Cupid. I have found myself in a job that can sometimes border on unhealthy due to a member of the management team who relies on bullying, physical and emotional harassment and a tendency towards too many French 75’s while working. Then of course, there is the being in love, with someone who cares enough not to want me to go away, but is petrified of letting me in far enough that he could actually fall for me. Oh sigh.

All of this begs the question… in 365 days, where will we all be?

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He finally removed the photo from OkCupid. The one I had taken of him on our trip up to Maine. Finally. So, why now? He didn’t do it after I told him that I was in love with him. He didn’t do it after we decided that we would go forward with our seeing eachother, each of us clearer on where the other stands. He did it after a 5 day trip to the mountains of wyoming with a friend who just lost his wife to cancer. I don’t understand him, but at the end of the day, I love him and that my friends, that is the most important thing. I know he cares about me or he wouldn’t be here. I might even say that he could love me, if he allowed himself. Knowing that it is possible, that makes me smile. That gives me comfort. I do hope that when he goes to sleep at night, he does so knowing that he is loved and that it makes a slight difference.

With that, it is 3:12 am and I have another full day of packing before me tomorrow. He flies out of town fora business trip so I don’t get to see him until he gets back. My new apartment is closer to his apartment than my condo, I hope the proximity increases the likelihood of intimacy, cause I am horny as hell most of the month and this 3 times isn’t cuttin’ it. He best be buying me a rabbit for Christmas if he doesn’t plan on stepping up to my box more often.

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