Thursday, December 25, 2008

"Trust this special connection"

From me to the philosopher (a Libra), one year ago today:
je te jure... i don't make this stuff up. i just pass it on...
LIBRA (Sept 23 - Oct 23)
You're complex. Not everyone can
understand you on all of the levels
you want to be understood. But a
certain kindred soul will be your
rock. Trust this special connection.

A year later, yesterday:
me: I'm pretty much alone. [ . . . ] I don't actually have a ton of people I see. I'm alone much of the time. I need someone to love me, but this time of the year I guess I'm not all that lovable. And I'm probably too much of a pain in the ass the rest of the year to be lovable then, either.

I need someone to hold me and distract me from the dark. Not gonna happen.

him: You are physically alone in that your friends are not nearby. But you are part of a large and intimate village, who loves you.

So stop moping you brat.

me: yes, sir.

[she wrinkles her nose and smiles ruefully]

they really are being nice to me, aren't they...

and you have your family.

him: Very nice. Almost as nice as you deserve.

And I have my family.

me: maybe in some ways that's all you need... your family...

and the bdsm... in your head... but maybe nowhere else...

[just deleted a whole bunch of stuff...]

him: Is that pouting?

me: no.

i don't know.

i don't think so.

it's grief.
it's regrets.
it's trying to not feel like i'm just not good enough.
or that i always do something wrong.

i'd rather believe that you're not suited to being with anyone than that you didn't want to be with me.

him: Well, perhaps you're right. I don't know. I'm nearly forty and single, without ever having had a long term relationship. You do the math.

Finally, from the NY Times review of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, which I saw today and liked very much:
Their love is uniquely perfect and enduring. At the same time, like any other love — like any movie — it is shadowed by disappointment and fated to end.

I don't know what to think any more.
I don't know what to do.

In some ways I could see us living a few blocks apart, with him as a straight, asexual version of the gay best friend. We would hang out together, watch DVDs, make meals, work cryptic crossword puzzles, always there, always thinking of each other, always looking after each other, but separated by an emotion-sparing naturally-extruded protective armor.

After all, he did tell me he was risk-averse.

There will probably always be something, some reason why it can't work, with me or anyone else. If it's not distance or dissertation it will be food or sex or BDSM (too much or too little), or she'll be fine on all counts and then will let slip that she really loves all three Godfather movies.

Is he happy?
Is he content?

If I do really love him (and who knows by now?), shouldn't I just let him become the confirmed old bachelor he wants to be? He's a big boy, he knows his own comfort level, and if intimacy is too much of a challenge then fine. Why should he live any way other than he wants to?

Because it's a goddamn waste!

For some reason, Dr. G (my psychopharmacologist) and M (my best female friend) seem to think it will turn out all right in the end. This is just a stage in our relationship, they say, it's good to have this time developing our friendship. But I'm losing faith. I'm getting worn out. I'm tempted by visions of begging the fiend for forgiveness and crawling back, ready to be content with the little scraps of time he can spare for me. I didn't like that. I hate getting the cake crumbs that are left after all the more important people get fed. At least with the philosopher I know that he IS thinking about me, that I do have some sort of place in his life. I just don't know exactly what that is. But I do know he has already checked this blog twice today.

This is probably one of those posts that I should leave unpublished.

But there's nothing much left to lose. So here it is.

They always tell you not to try to change someone.

Thinking I can persuade him or guilt-trip him into taking the risk of a relationship which he kept trying to avoid and then trying to flee from pretty much the beginning - that's just plain stupid. I need to be grateful for what we had, for whatever is left of it, and keep my tears to myself.

I need to stop babbling.

I need to go to bed.

Maybe I wrote about objectification yesterday because with objectification comes numbness.

Excuse me. I'm going to run down to the 7-11 and pick up a bottle of water from the river Lethe.


mamacrow said...

'Because it's a goddamn waste!'
oh hon I know I know.

but sometimes you have to stop fighting something for it to captulate...

yeah, you have to let something go for it to stop running way...

I know I know, hippie cliche crap...but true, in my experience

Paul said...

OG, please don't drink that water,
of the river Lehte, you may lose your talent, what a waste that would be.
Your pain is part of your talent.
Pain is also part of love.
Pain is part of life, and dear girl you are certainly alive and shining.
Warm hugs,

Elspeth said...

I loved what you wrote at Gray Lily's blog, about how we're all dashing about, leaving supportive comments and good advice for one another, whilst in the midst of our own turmoils (or, words to that effect).

Learning to let it g, while still holding it close and tender in your heart is the hardest thing, I think.

Big, squishy {{hugs}} (and you know how soft and squishy a hug from me would be. Heh).

oatmeal girl said...

And sometimes, mamacrow, you have to stop fighting because it's a lost cause. Except that it's so hard. And maybe that's part of being a lefty-liberal. We believe in what seem to be lost causes.

Still, it ISN'T hippie cliche crap. and I'm trying to let it go, for whatever reason. but I'm not doing a very good job at it.

Paul, I suppose you're right, writing draws on the blood and the scars. But it's a heavy price to pay.

Elspeth - what i wrote to Gray Lily, and what I've felt before, is that it feels like being in college. We were all so wise about other people's problems... and then would turn around and beg for help. I keep wishing I were meg (persephone) and had an owner or two to supervise my life, especially my love life, to help me make the right decisions and, more importantly, to keep me from continually making the wrong decisions.

Maybe ou all could form a committee. The Keep OG From Making an Ass of Herself Committee (so that she can find true love and finally get her ass fucked).

mamacrow said...

og, by letting it go I didn't mean give it up as a lost cause.... It's not fighting for it exactly, but...

hmmm. run out of words!

you know, in my madder moments, I quite miss all the committees I used to sit on... I wouldn't mind sitting on yours ;-)