Eons later...
Oy!
Time has flown and life went on. In some cases without me. Feeling rather introspective and insecure about choices I'm making. On the upside of things, I am learning a whole new perspective.
Attention seeking behavior- rewarded! Not really. I have questioned the debris of my marriage and wondering why I cannot connect on any acceptable level. It's led me on a collision course with men from my past, whom were really only boys, but now men of considerable interest. One- a high school love that I left standing by the roadside, metaphorically. The other, separated by family relocation and reunited after 35 years. One- probably was the love of my life, only I was too scared/young to know what I wanted or needed. The other, a schoolyard crush that 35 years later brought unwanted energy. The latter isn't true. It brought interesting, immediate, and dangerous chemistry. Chemistry that remains untarnished. I'm in no place to jump in the middle of anything rash.
So, here I am, a few weeks later, completely scattered of cohesive cycles in these friendships and coping with the messes that are tacked on to the responsible side of life. No place to form a healthy, long-lasting decision regarding my own personal desires. Hence the purchase of the 5 Love Languages. I think I better start trying to figure why I am not relating to my husband before I jump into a messy dialect search with the masculine persuasions on my book shelf. Believe me, they are both excellent reads but my world is a bit frantic and alarmingly stuffed full of psychotic moments.
Between my mom, brother, and "normal" household, I am going to lose a grip. I'd love to get lost in someone else's touch for awhile but that means taking responsibility for those actions. It means consequences. I don't have time for either. Do I yearn for them? Yes.
One of them, has spent two blocks of time with me, during recent crises, and has been nothing but respectful. That was actually disappointing. Deep down, it was morally just. Part of me wishes for the old times. Times of being naked, twisted up in one another, and leaving the cares of the world tucked into our socks and shoes. Our re-connect was awkward and sweet. Innocent and sometimes strained. There were brief moments I saw a slight flicker. Wouldn't that have been particularly delicious?! But, life, "normal life" trumps the escape from reality. That sucks.
The other- undeniable electricity that I don't understand but can't deny. Again- dangerous ground and I'm not young enough to play with that kind of fire.
What have I learned? I have learned that I can love deeply. I can feel passion. I am not dead yet. I fear my love languages will never match with anyone else and I won't have the energy to try and speak another language. Maybe that will change one day. For now, I think of the past, near and far, and am reminded that I have needs and dreams. I won't give up on them. I just need some sorting to get there.
Time has flown and life went on. In some cases without me. Feeling rather introspective and insecure about choices I'm making. On the upside of things, I am learning a whole new perspective.
Attention seeking behavior- rewarded! Not really. I have questioned the debris of my marriage and wondering why I cannot connect on any acceptable level. It's led me on a collision course with men from my past, whom were really only boys, but now men of considerable interest. One- a high school love that I left standing by the roadside, metaphorically. The other, separated by family relocation and reunited after 35 years. One- probably was the love of my life, only I was too scared/young to know what I wanted or needed. The other, a schoolyard crush that 35 years later brought unwanted energy. The latter isn't true. It brought interesting, immediate, and dangerous chemistry. Chemistry that remains untarnished. I'm in no place to jump in the middle of anything rash.
So, here I am, a few weeks later, completely scattered of cohesive cycles in these friendships and coping with the messes that are tacked on to the responsible side of life. No place to form a healthy, long-lasting decision regarding my own personal desires. Hence the purchase of the 5 Love Languages. I think I better start trying to figure why I am not relating to my husband before I jump into a messy dialect search with the masculine persuasions on my book shelf. Believe me, they are both excellent reads but my world is a bit frantic and alarmingly stuffed full of psychotic moments.
Between my mom, brother, and "normal" household, I am going to lose a grip. I'd love to get lost in someone else's touch for awhile but that means taking responsibility for those actions. It means consequences. I don't have time for either. Do I yearn for them? Yes.
One of them, has spent two blocks of time with me, during recent crises, and has been nothing but respectful. That was actually disappointing. Deep down, it was morally just. Part of me wishes for the old times. Times of being naked, twisted up in one another, and leaving the cares of the world tucked into our socks and shoes. Our re-connect was awkward and sweet. Innocent and sometimes strained. There were brief moments I saw a slight flicker. Wouldn't that have been particularly delicious?! But, life, "normal life" trumps the escape from reality. That sucks.
The other- undeniable electricity that I don't understand but can't deny. Again- dangerous ground and I'm not young enough to play with that kind of fire.
What have I learned? I have learned that I can love deeply. I can feel passion. I am not dead yet. I fear my love languages will never match with anyone else and I won't have the energy to try and speak another language. Maybe that will change one day. For now, I think of the past, near and far, and am reminded that I have needs and dreams. I won't give up on them. I just need some sorting to get there.