It's almost been a year.
Since my last post.
Do you ever think back to this day last year and wonder at how far you've come. Last year, on February 13th, I had an incredibly awkward encounter with a man who claimed he wanted to be "just friends" with me. We were not the same enough for him, I guess. Perhaps I was a little rough around the edges, a little messy, and symmetry matters to some people. Clean edges, clear cut, non-emotional, straightforward partnership. Turned out he wanted to be friends with benefits, essentially. And I thought I was okay with that until I got hurt. Several times, but one of them was last year when I was rejected and practically spent the entire day of Valentine's Day bawling my eyes out at work and then hanging with a friend who, miraculously, helped keep the tears at bay. The problem was, I think I loved a little too much about him. He was pretty perfect on paper, well, for me, that is. Except for the trouble with communication and all the crazy feels that women hope to sap out of men. He would not be tapped, could not be mined. Not by me, anyway. He found another woman who fits his mold of what he wants in the woman of his dreams. And I often wonder what she has that I don't. I've met her, you see, and her impression on me wasn't favorable. I'm not being biased, I was in an excellent mood that particular evening, I was friendly and cordial and pleasant, and she was a sour-puss, by the way.
There is a lot of wisdom out there that tells me there is no use in looking back. And it is probably very correct. Every time I see a picture of G or hear from him, my heart wrenches a little bit. And not in a good way, because it shows that he's moved on. It twists, painfully. I don't feel that way about J anymore, which I suppose proves that people move on progressively and slowly but surely. My heart doesn't twist when / if I hear from him. There's a quote from a book I love that says, "It's the tragedy of loving, you can't love anything more than something you miss." I miss so many things right now, a little bit of everything from all my relationships. But I know I'm closer to being at the right place.
Sometimes when someone flirts with me, I think, probably a little bit patronizingly, "Oh honey, you don't want any part of this. I would eat you alive, mess you up." I wonder if this is a defense mechanism. And who am I to think that I have such power? And how much do I really know about what they've been suffered or what they've conquered? So we'll chalk it up to my barbed, guarded, brick walls. Granted, some of these boys seem quite young and far too sweet for the likes of me. But I have realized I don't know remember what it's like to feel comfortable with someone, to wait for them to come home, give you a kiss, and settle on the couch with a book to read, together. I don't remember what that feels like because even though I was with G for -ahem- around NINE MONTHS our "friendship / relationship / non-ship" was under wraps. I was never secure. I haven't felt secure with a man in years, even with J. Years. I crave this, but I am terrified. I like who I am right now, but I remember what annoys others. The fact that I am a slob, the fact that I start projects and often leave them unfinished, the fact that I'm a little bit of a square, the fact that sometimes I'm content to stay within my comfort zone. I've grown comfortable with myself, even comfortable with being annoyed with myself, but I am terrified of the assured criticism of men. I'm not sure I could handle being torn down again.
Why do I write this post? Well, partly because I've had some tequila. Partly because Valentine's Day is coming up and I can't possibly post all my feelings on facebook. Partly because I miss writing, and I think it is healthy for me. But also, I've read some of my feelings from last year and the year before it, just now, in this blog. I'm so glad I wrote those down, but what is so exciting and a little bit jarring is, for the most part, I don't feel those feelings anymore! Something has changed, I've grown, I'm stronger, I'm a little bit braver, I don't feel bitter at J or sad or worried that I won't find anyone again. I will find someone. Eventually. Sometimes I just worry I won't be able to let them in.
Until next time, a quote by Bukowski: "We are all museums of fear."
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