Oh, I am wishing for the sunshine of last week.
I’m trying my best-I’ve got my 1994 playlist on, which does begin with one of the very best songs of all human time, “The Sign” by Ace of Base, and it’s Friday, so I’m rocking my Village hoodie that I do love so much (and likely wear too often), and reminding myself that there is a glorious weekend coming tomorrow.
It’s been a bit of a week- my car is in the shop because of a deer I hit in December, and while I am endlessly grateful that my dad is allowing me to use the van, I miss my car. My furnace has been having issues of late, culminating in the girls and I spending an entire day without heat, but it has been seen to and I am most hopeful that we now have a plan to fix it that won’t cost me quite as much as I originally feared.
But tons of good things happened this week too- I have gotten to have dinner out with different groups of friends three times in the past week and a half and that is just good for my soul. Betsy has found her groove with track this year. And in addition to all of the 90210 and Avonlea and Baby-Sitters Club episodes that we are currently binging on, we also squeezed in Darby O’Gill and the Little People because St. Patrick’s Day.
(I am not entirely sure how I’ve got them on such an early 90s binge just now, but they have additionally discovered Paula Abdul and every night sing and perform a dance to "Opposites Attract.")
I finished a book this week that was definitely in my niche roundhouse- The Incurable Romantic and Other Unsettling Revelations by Frank Tallis. I just happened upon it at the library- it’s a psychoanalyst’s accounts of some of his more interesting patients, all of whom have some sort of issue surrounding love in an unhealthy manner- I found it engrossing. (Except if I were to recommend it, I would tell most people to skip the next to last chapter, just because it’s disturbing while the other stories are more just interesting but not harboring on abusive.)
I am endlessly fascinated by other people and their lives and what led them to where they are (I realize that comes off shallow, as someone who has a blog to basically talk all about herself, but I promise I am telling the truth). This book is a glimpse into the lives of people who have been undone by love, some obsessed, some unable to knock down walls that they have erected to protect themselves from hurt-the most interesting to me being a man who cannot stop himself having not just affairs, but full fledged romances with thousands of women outside of his marriage because his particular obsession is having women fall in love with him.
My idea of romantic love has flipped all sideways and backwards since my divorce-it’s hard for me to imagine the idea that someone could fall in love with me and stay in love with me forever now-but at the same time I want with all of my heart to fall in love and get married again someday. These tales of love gone mad may make me feel a little less alone but also ultimately make me slightly panicky that love may well just be a delusion that we use to make us feel good.
The thing is, when I fell in love for the first time, it checked all the boxes. All the fireworks coupled with a person who was my very best friend for fifteen years- there are days that I remind myself that I didn’t see any of this coming precisely because this is what love is presented as in every single movie, book, song, what have you, that exists in the world.
As I have repeatedly said, I don’t want that to happen again. It’s why my dating life is not much to speak of-and I do drive people crazy, particularly my sister, who is so unbelievably patient with me to go over and over and over this again and again- I say again and again, I want to get married, I just don’t want to date. The experience of going out with someone, facing rejection, potentially wasting time that could be better spent just eating ramen noodles and watching movies (which is my preferred way to spend a Saturday night)- I despise everything about the initial bits of trying to date someone, and so I just don’t do it.
I realize that this is never going to lead me down a road of finding a partner again, which just pushes me more into my anxiety. It’s lovely.
This would normally be where I would write, someday this will make sense. But more and more I find myself thinking that there is no guarantee that it ever will, that I place far too much emphasis on this ending up somewhere instead of it just being the path that I’m on. Which is all well and good in the abstract, but at the same time, there are days that despite all of my best efforts I feel lonely and miss having another human being on the planet who has promised to love me forever.
So, no, Joy Elizabeth, it doesn’t all make sense, and you are allowed to hold contradictions in your hands and want them both at the same time. You can hold tight to your list of characteristics of the ideal partner (which is a fairly long physical list that I do indeed have) and enjoy the being alone most of the time and still feel lonely sometimes. It doesn’t make you weak. It doesn’t make you some sappy romantic fool. It makes you human, with emotions that are messy despite all of your best intentions to keep everything as neat and ordered as possible.
where'd you wanna go?
How much you wanna risk?
I'm not looking for somebody
With some superhuman gifts
Some superhero
Some fairytale bliss
Just something I can turn to
Somebody I can kiss
I want something just like this
-Coldplay with the Chainsmokers
Very therapeutic
ReplyDeleteThank you :)
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