Inside of love
I sometimes think there is this invisible threshold of people who have fallen in love.
I don’t think I have ever truly crossed that threshold. Not really. I think i tried, once. But i don’t think i passed the test to be allowed through the pearly white gates of being In romantic love.
Have I loved? Yes.
Do i love? Yes.
Am i in love with people? Yes.
Have i been IN love? I don’t know.
I don’t think so. Not “completely”. Not enough to feel it through my bones. And i think that’s how you would experience passing the threshold. With no doubt or fear.
Theres a song i love to listen to by Nada Surf called “The inside of love”. I listen to it a lot because i relate to it a lot.
I do stupid things, sometimes. Only i don’t feel stupid, i feel embarrassed. Not because i feel wrong, but because i feel judged. I’m impulsive and spontaneous and passionate and when i want something i don’t say no to myself.
Like last Friday...
I’ve been dating this guy for.... umm 2 dates? Seems short but in my string of relationships (or lack there of) recently this was a good step forward. And there were plans for future things too. It seemed good.
I hadn’t really decided if i liked him. I liked his company. And i really really needed to feel wanted. Sexually, emotionally.
1st date was exciting, enticing even. Butterflies and hope. A small memorable kiss with a boy who wanted to remember this moment. How romantic right? I wanted romance. I need to feel wanted romantically, not just sexually.
2nd date: It seemed like I was an afterthought. Did he really want to see me? Did he want me to be there? He was saying the words... but the actions and pre date planning didn’t align with the feeling i got from date 1. So i forced it. I tried to entice him. I wanted to feel loved so i let him love me. Lust me really. It wasn’t great. I felt nothing inside. Not even him. I tried to enjoy it. I REALLY tried. He seemed lazy? Or tired? Uninterested? whatever it was, whatever we were, just wasn’t. It didn’t seem to work. I think he knew that too. I don’t think he tried though. We left happy (ish) and with hope that maybe there’s more...
That is until he texted me.
He told me he was going to be busy... for a whole month. And then told me to not take it personally. I took it personally. I took it VERY personally. I even told him “i understood... but it’s going to be very hard for me to not take it personally” And he was busy... he didn’t lie to me. But those feelings I need...Those little enticements I need to push my feelings forward... they died. I felt deflated. Defeated? I don’t know.
Hindsight isn’t always 20/20.
He didn’t stop talking to me. I kept in contact. Teasing. Enticing. Trying. He seemed to just barely be holding on to the idea of “us”. The bare minimum to make me keep a hold of an idea.
Then Friday came. I hadn’t been out late with friends in a long time. Probably 6months. I tend to avoid it because when i get drunk (and i can drink without getting drunk, but i can’t go out with friends and not get drunk) i can’t handle it. My uninhibited mind that is. I can’t handle seeing all the people without kids have freedom, i can’t handle seeing all the people in relationships be together or the ones who are about to hook up.
So I’m there with friends watching them with their partners or the person they met that night and I’m thinking... do I have someone? i need someone right now. I need company. I need sex. I need to feel wanted.
So in my head my choices were to spontaneously show up and surprise the boy I’m dating at 2am and hopefully have mad passionate wild sex or go home and cry.
I chose the first. I tried to text... call... no answer. I finally made a brash decision (uninhabited) to drive(this is the only thing that i believe was actually a stupid choice because i was drunk) to his house.
What did i think would happen? I thought hoped he would be excited to see me. I thought hoped he would be overcome by his sexual desire and not care that i was keeping him from sleep because the next day was a weekend and he could sleep in. I knew he was alone (not his weekend for his kids). I thought hoped he would take me in his arms and brush of the inconvenience and appreciate the time with me and my bold show of passion toward him.
I was wrong. He was angry. Not angry enough to not have sex, but angry enough to use sex as a way to get out his anger.
I get it. I 💯 understand why he was mad and he has every right to be.
But I still hoped for more. I hoped he was more. I hoped we had more.
I don’t know if i was trying to prove something or demolish something but i got my answer.
He texted me the next day telling me to never do that and how uncool it was.
Got it. Uncool. Thanks for the lecture.
I just told him i got it and he won’t have to worry about me ever doing that. With the underlying subtext of me never seeing or speaking to him again.
I was upset and went into a depression afterwards for the weekend. I didn’t want to move. I felt ashamed, sad, guilty, disappointed. Not for my actions.
I’m not sorry. I saw a hole and I opened that thing wide open. If I hadn’t done that... I’m sure i would have found another way to expand the weakness I was feeling. Kill or be killed right?
Did it have to happen? No. Could we have been something had I not acted on my impulses and moment of weakness? Possibly. Is that what i wanted? Absolutely not.
...
There’s a threshold I haven’t crossed because I am ok being on this side of the threshold for forever if I can’t find my way in on my terms. I have to take my own path and while you may disagree or think the path across comes with compromise. I’m not unwilling to compromise. I’m just unwilling to follow someone else’s path.
Of course I’ll be alright, I just had a bad night.😉
