Sigh...
*Sigh* I hate this hoilday. Well, not really hate, I suppose. Maybe it's more dislike with an extreme intsensity. I've never really liked it. Having to have a day to remind people to tell those they care about that they are special always seemed stupid to me. Then, of course, there was the whole hardly ever getting candy so I never had will power to leave the candy this day brings along alone.
No, that's not even why. It started when I was a child and no one wanted to give me valentines at school. Stupid little cardboard things, but everyone else's boxes would fill up while mine just sat there. Oh, there was always the teacher's gift, but that hardly counted in my young eyes since everyone in class got one from the teacher as a matter of course. Then in middle and high school it seemed like everyone had a partner and they were always wrapped up in each other with the candy and the flowers.
Oh, the flowers. I longed after flowers when I was a teen. I wanted flowers that were sent to me, just like I'd see other people get. I wanted that feeling of being special that seemed to follow the flowers into the room when they appeared. I usually hate cut flowers because they die, but this time of year I used to look at others' flowers and wish.
Wish that I was loveable. Wish that I could be outgoing enough to have friends. Wish that I was prettier or thinner or something that would make me worthy of being wanted. Wish that I had grace, that I could attract more than the scorn of those around me.
Until today I've only ever told a couple of people about wanting flowers. I told a boyfriend (the one I usually refer to as 'the asshole' just fyi) and I've told a friend. The boyfriend (I'm being polite. yah me) told me it was a stupid thing and he took me out for dinner that year. The friend said it wasn't so much stupid as selfish to think of only myself.
See, that's the thing. I don't want to just feel special to feel special. I want to have someone to do that for me that I could make feel special too. And not just on a holiday. It used to drive the boyfriend kooky that I'd just up and give him something for no reason. I wasn't trying to get anything back or thanks or whatever. I was just showing him how much he meant to me.
Meaning something to someone isn't going to happen for me, I don't think. I ruin every relationship I get near. Sometimes my trust issues become too much to deal with, sometimes I'm too much to deal with. Once I trust someone I trust them (until they do something to make me not trust any longer). The thing is I take a lot of time to get to that point. I've been hurt before. My trust has been broken in some pretty major ways.
Telling someone they should just relax doesn't really help. Actually for me it just makes me more tense. I can't handle most skin on skin contact. Shaking hands is a big step for me. No one really knows that because I seem more or less okay. My actually reaching out and touching someone is a major thing. Very major. It either means I'm very comfortable with that person and/or I trust them completely.
Finding someone that won't mind my writing for hours on end, hiding my face when I'm feeling any emtion (I cover my mouth when I laugh and hide my whole face when I cry), wanting to touch and being afraid of it, and all the rest... highly unlikely. I can't handle large groups of people for very long. I can't go into situations propousely looking to find someone. I just...can't. I can't flirt. I can't dance, except for sqare dancing, a couple of period dances, and a little belly dancing. I have nothing to talk about that doesn't involve writing, or books. I know a little about a lot of things, but that seems to be a bad thing.
I seem to be a bad thing. I'm different than a normal girl I'm told (not that I really beilve what the asshole said, but things often repeated are remembered). From willing warming the other person when they are freezing to not wanting to cuddle every time a movie is put in to watch, I'm just...odd.
Oddness isn't something new. I've been odd, different, heck I've even been the devil's spawn depending on who you talk to. I'm just me. I'm a complaicated person because I'm human. Everyone is a mass of collected reactions, fears, wants, needs, etc. I can't sum myself up in a couple of words (which always drove me nuts in school, three words to descirbe myself, yeah, right).
So I watched as others got flowers today and waited for the want to creep in. It didn't. Not really. It was there, but more in that 'oh, hmm, oh, well' way. I still haven't decided if it's good or bad that I don't want flowers like I used to. Or maybe it is that I just don't feel anything like I used to. *sigh*