VodkaMusings

Why must it be so difficult to exist from moment to moment?  Why must it be so hard to just be.  Be comfortable and calm, be confident and sure.  Without love it’s all such an act, such a play of indifference.  

I’m currently surrounded by friends and family…and yet, am still unloved.  Melodramatic? maybe.  But true.  I’m certain they love me in their way…but not the love as I feel it should be.  The kind that makes you warm and comfortable.  The kind that makes you feel ok.  

I make people uncomfortable.  My only friend today told me she was insecure around me because I was so much more sophisticated than she is.  I want to scream out that I’m not….I’m on the brink of tears half the time, and when I’m not its only because I’m faking it.  I dont know how to be loved.  And when I try to love others its overwhelming to them.  Too much.  They dont see its just that I care, or feel a connection.

Connections are so rare for me that when I feel them I want to hang on and fumble my way through nurturing them.  I dont know what I’m doing here.

I’ve known him for 2 weeks and he’s been all I can think about.  Our paths crossed because he was working on putting together a talent show for a celebration in the small town I’d just returned to.  We talked on the phone a couple of times and I could tell he was funny and energetic.  We planned to meet over lunch and he was going to introduce me to some people in town to talk about the new community focused website I’d built.  

When he stepped around the corner, dirty from working outside all day, speckled with paint and all I could see was his blue eyes looking right through me.  Before our hands touched to shake I knew I was in trouble.  We had the lunch, then a work session.  I maintained being friendly, as he was the only person in the entire building I knew, but I had to avoid eye contact at times.  He never did or said anything sexual.  It was something I saw above all that.  It kept making me fear that I would be “that guy” in the movie in the lunchroom gaping wide eyed with mouth open at the beautiful girl that by some struck of dumb luck happen to sit across from him.  I was scared I would just stare and miss what was being said.

It wasnt all a sexual connection, I felt…him.  I’ve always been very good at reading people and am historically the ‘go to’ person for advice.  But I’ve never felt someone elses heart.  There was a weight there that didnt match his eyes or his voice.  A brokenness that had endured extraordinary effort to cover up.

He admitted to me today that he has realized there is no one out there for him to love.  It broke my heart.  Not just because I would love to be loved by a man like him.  But more importantly because I have absolutely held the same unwavering belief about myself for a very long number of years.  Even to the extreme of religion….I do not believe I can be saved, and do not believe I can be loved.  At 2 am Saturday morning it is a freeing belief filled with posturing and gluttony of all shapes and sizes.  But at 11 pm on a Monday night it can be paralyzing.  Even Maslow places Love only above Food and Safety in the basic human needs.  That must mean something.

Am I doing it SO terribly wrong that all I can achieve is basic food and safety in this life of mine?

I dont think I’ve ever consciously wanted to be loved specifically.  It was never present at home but I did get to visit it when I went to other peoples houses.  It just seemed stifling.  All the phone calls, and the meals, and kids birthday parties.  I still dont want all of those things.  But I do want someone to love.  I’ve realized my heart is actually beating and that I do actually care.  I care so much it hurts sometimes about things that have absolutely no relevance to me whatsoever.  And right now I care about someone that doesnt care back.

I wish I could be saved.  I wish those Monday nights didnt come.