(no subject)
Look, it's like, once I love someone, it doesn't go away. This is part of what's wrong with me. I don't know if it's a symptom or the disease itself, but it's not getting better.
Normal people with half a brain in their head leave people behind. And I can do this, at least outwardly. I can not talk. I can ignore emails and phone calls. I can pretend not to know you on the street. But somewhere in me, the people I love embed themselves and I carry them around no matter whether it hurts or not. Somewhere, the responses for betrayal or even garden variety rejection and all that fun stuff got shut off. I can't get angry. I can't dislike. I can't defensively pick apart the person. I only have this stupid awe at the fact they exist. Long after they've stopped loving me or even finding me interesting or even remembering I exist. No matter what kinds of situations happen which are better forgotten. This is true for family. This is true for friends. This is true for lovers.
It hurts, watching people I love from my family and friends, the bedrock, supposedly, move deeper into drugs, abusive situations, and chaos. I have to move on and I've come a long way toward that.
On the other end, it hurts watching people I love move on without me, finding relationships with better men, settling down, building partnerships that I want more than almost anything but which I fear I'll never be able find. Someone to live with. To cook meals with. To talk about dreams with, and to support in their plans. To lay beside at night and not feel like my life is coming down around me all the time.
Look, I'm not saying this makes me a good person. I'm saying it's sick. It's pathological in that it's keeping me from functioning. And it only gets worse.
I need to accept the idea I could very well be alone for the rest of my life and get down to business fully and completely again.
Normal people with half a brain in their head leave people behind. And I can do this, at least outwardly. I can not talk. I can ignore emails and phone calls. I can pretend not to know you on the street. But somewhere in me, the people I love embed themselves and I carry them around no matter whether it hurts or not. Somewhere, the responses for betrayal or even garden variety rejection and all that fun stuff got shut off. I can't get angry. I can't dislike. I can't defensively pick apart the person. I only have this stupid awe at the fact they exist. Long after they've stopped loving me or even finding me interesting or even remembering I exist. No matter what kinds of situations happen which are better forgotten. This is true for family. This is true for friends. This is true for lovers.
It hurts, watching people I love from my family and friends, the bedrock, supposedly, move deeper into drugs, abusive situations, and chaos. I have to move on and I've come a long way toward that.
On the other end, it hurts watching people I love move on without me, finding relationships with better men, settling down, building partnerships that I want more than almost anything but which I fear I'll never be able find. Someone to live with. To cook meals with. To talk about dreams with, and to support in their plans. To lay beside at night and not feel like my life is coming down around me all the time.
Look, I'm not saying this makes me a good person. I'm saying it's sick. It's pathological in that it's keeping me from functioning. And it only gets worse.
I need to accept the idea I could very well be alone for the rest of my life and get down to business fully and completely again.