I don’t even know who’s reading this anymore… who makes it a point to swing by on occasion, what sort of total strangers might be stopping by. Maybe that matters, and maybe it doesn’t. I just always try to write with my audience in mind, and I really have no idea who that audience is these days.
At any rate, that means some of what I’m about to write may or may not be appropriate. Apologies if you happen to think it’s not.
Things have been weird for a while, now. Slowly, over the course of the last four or five months, this wall between me and almost everyone else in my world has been growing… I can pinpoint the singular moment (if not the day on the calendar) that everything began to change, began to shift. And now, several months later, things have morphed to the point that I am feeling really disconnected from those things that, for so long, have been so important to me.
It’s like my soul is adrift, wandering out there in the vast expanse of space and time, not really sure where to anchor. My port is no longer the safe haven it once was, and I still just can’t quite wrap my mind around how to cope with that.
I’m definitely engaging in what we social scientists call satisificing — I’m doing just enough to get by, without popping the hood and taking a very serious look inside. Occasionally (thank you, Maggie), I’m confronted with tough (but good) questions that start to push me towards that introspection. But for now, I feel pretty consciously unwilling to take too deep of a look.
Which only means that, when something happens, it tends to explode way out of proportion. And that’s not good for anyone… not for the people caught up in the fallout, and definitely not for me. I know this, and yet I feel completely incapable of confronting this wall once and for all. Mostly, my reluctance is fear of what might happen as a result. Am I really ready to put all options on the table to conquer the wall? The answer is no, and given that, I’d rather avoid it than deal with it. Perhaps this makes me a coward — probably so, actually.
My coping strategy has been to TRY to deflect energy away from this whole, um, situation… and invest some pretty significant energy into finding a new port, if you will. In very real terms, this means I’ve been investing some time and emotional energy into trying to meet new people, mostly boys, with the hopes of finding a spark. I’m still not even sure I’m ready to get involved in a serious, long-term relationship… but I think I am, and I’d sure as hell like to give it a shot. I know that this whole situation has arisen because I’m counting on one person, a single friend, to provide the kind of emotional support that would normally come from a committed relationship, and that’s not fair to him.
And in the last month or so, I’ve met some really interesting people… had some great conversations and felt encouraged by my growing sense of self and confidence in meeting new people. I’m so utterly comfortable with myself these days that, when I go on a “first whatever,” I really just don’t worry much at all that the guy isn’t going to like me… because, if I may be blunt for a minute, I know that if he doesn’t, it’s his fucking loss! I’m not always the easiest person to negotiate the beginning of a relationship with (and there are a small legion of poor souls who will attest to that!), but once committed, I am an incredibly giving and compassionate partner. The difference between my dating style these days versus in times past is that I’m just not willing to spare someone’s feelings by pretending that I’m feeling more (or anything) that I’m not. I want to feel passion, and I want to feel it reciprocated — if not immediately, then I want to know that there’s the possibility it will come.
I’m just ready to feel the lightning. I’d vastly prefer to let the relationship bloom slowly, but I want to feel the butterflies again. I’m ready.