Did I Fall in Love?
In between trying to manage volunteers for the film festival and posting over at Snark about the recent goings-on in Chicopee politics, I've been mulling over what's gone on with Lucky Bastard.
And I'm wondering if, somehow, I fell in love.
I'm pretty pragmatic about alot of things in my life--pragamatic to the point of cynical, pessimistic and overly-critical at times. I don't like delusions, illusions or magical thinking. I hate the thought of being one of those people who thinks they've got talent or are extremely good-looking when, in fact, they're not.
So, when it comes to Lucky Bastard, I've been pretty clear that, while I have "feelings" of an amorphous type, those feelings can't be called "love" because I haven't spent the requisite time with him to actually be in love with him.
of all people.
I know some things about him, but I don't know a heck of alot. I know a smattering of family stuff (that his perfect and beautiful mother was an alcoholic), of childhood stuff (that he had polio--that he got whacked in the head with a baseball and almost died), of what his life was like when he was younger (very much the go-getter), of what it consists of today. I know that we, now, have parallel lives in many ways. I know that where he is atheltic, I'm not. I know that we are both very social.
We are both very sensual. We both need that. What we need sensually seems, like other aspects of our lives, to be parallel.
But we don't spend time together. Sometimes we talk, and we support what one another is up to. We recognize that we are both on the brink of something big in our lives--we can both feel it--and we validate that for one another. We support one another and never compete. We hear one another and understand because we are so similar in character.
Validation and reflection seem to be important to each of us.
So, I don't quite know what to think. I wonder if I shut off from the rest of my consciousness that part of myself that recognizes love so that I could keep the upper hand--so that I wouldn't get hurt. Or, at least not hurt in quite the same way I'd been before.
Becasue I do indeed hurt.
There are moments where I wish I could do the Vulcan Mind Meld with him and Steady Eddie and get the best traits of each in one person. I can't stand that there's a man who is loving and supportive, who's there for me every day, yet I can't put my finger on what my feelings are for him either. I say "love" but I don't feel exactly quite what I feel for, nor how I feel about, Lucky Bastard.
Love is never easy. For me, it's always fraught with danger and more tangled than a bad case of bed-head.
I mentioned to my therapist that I hate being lonely and that it's not normal to have a family that beats up on you and keeps reminding you of all the bad things in your life--to have parents whom, when you call, just yammer on about the same old things in their lives and never ask you how you are doing and are never, ever proud or happy about what you are doing in your life. It makes calling the parents worse than a trip to county lock-up.
And it's just not normal.
Friends can only fill the space of family to a degree. It's always a family member--mother, father, sister, brother--who is the one you call all the time, who you can lean on and share things with if you aren't married (and sometimes even when you are).
And if that's not there, then what? Life ends up being an endless cycle of coming home from whereever and feeling wildly disconnected from the world.
Without family, there are no roots.
But when the roots are poisonous, what do you do to survive and thrive? Cut the roots and try to form new ones. But the rootlessness can be far too painful to deal with and can force you to form alliances that might not be the best.
Sometimes it's called "any port in a storm"...but that's a super-harsh way of looking at it.
So, I sit here, split in two again, hurt from loss of one and unable to connect with the other. Yes, I know it's high drama. And I'd really prefer to do without it. It was never my intention to create this--guess that was a case of delusional thinking if there ever was one.
How did I think I could carry on with someone for over a year and NOT have feelings for him? Gotta be a stone not to develop *some* kind of feelings.
I don't get crazy in love...but maybe I did, a little, fall in love.
I don't know. I don't understand it any more than I can understand calculus. At least with calculus, if I practiced enough, I might get it right.
With Love, it don't think practice helps. It's not that kind of discipline.
And I'm wondering if, somehow, I fell in love.
I'm pretty pragmatic about alot of things in my life--pragamatic to the point of cynical, pessimistic and overly-critical at times. I don't like delusions, illusions or magical thinking. I hate the thought of being one of those people who thinks they've got talent or are extremely good-looking when, in fact, they're not.
So, when it comes to Lucky Bastard, I've been pretty clear that, while I have "feelings" of an amorphous type, those feelings can't be called "love" because I haven't spent the requisite time with him to actually be in love with him.
of all people.
I know some things about him, but I don't know a heck of alot. I know a smattering of family stuff (that his perfect and beautiful mother was an alcoholic), of childhood stuff (that he had polio--that he got whacked in the head with a baseball and almost died), of what his life was like when he was younger (very much the go-getter), of what it consists of today. I know that we, now, have parallel lives in many ways. I know that where he is atheltic, I'm not. I know that we are both very social.
We are both very sensual. We both need that. What we need sensually seems, like other aspects of our lives, to be parallel.
But we don't spend time together. Sometimes we talk, and we support what one another is up to. We recognize that we are both on the brink of something big in our lives--we can both feel it--and we validate that for one another. We support one another and never compete. We hear one another and understand because we are so similar in character.
Validation and reflection seem to be important to each of us.
So, I don't quite know what to think. I wonder if I shut off from the rest of my consciousness that part of myself that recognizes love so that I could keep the upper hand--so that I wouldn't get hurt. Or, at least not hurt in quite the same way I'd been before.
Becasue I do indeed hurt.
There are moments where I wish I could do the Vulcan Mind Meld with him and Steady Eddie and get the best traits of each in one person. I can't stand that there's a man who is loving and supportive, who's there for me every day, yet I can't put my finger on what my feelings are for him either. I say "love" but I don't feel exactly quite what I feel for, nor how I feel about, Lucky Bastard.
Love is never easy. For me, it's always fraught with danger and more tangled than a bad case of bed-head.
I mentioned to my therapist that I hate being lonely and that it's not normal to have a family that beats up on you and keeps reminding you of all the bad things in your life--to have parents whom, when you call, just yammer on about the same old things in their lives and never ask you how you are doing and are never, ever proud or happy about what you are doing in your life. It makes calling the parents worse than a trip to county lock-up.
And it's just not normal.
Friends can only fill the space of family to a degree. It's always a family member--mother, father, sister, brother--who is the one you call all the time, who you can lean on and share things with if you aren't married (and sometimes even when you are).
And if that's not there, then what? Life ends up being an endless cycle of coming home from whereever and feeling wildly disconnected from the world.
Without family, there are no roots.
But when the roots are poisonous, what do you do to survive and thrive? Cut the roots and try to form new ones. But the rootlessness can be far too painful to deal with and can force you to form alliances that might not be the best.
Sometimes it's called "any port in a storm"...but that's a super-harsh way of looking at it.
So, I sit here, split in two again, hurt from loss of one and unable to connect with the other. Yes, I know it's high drama. And I'd really prefer to do without it. It was never my intention to create this--guess that was a case of delusional thinking if there ever was one.
How did I think I could carry on with someone for over a year and NOT have feelings for him? Gotta be a stone not to develop *some* kind of feelings.
I don't get crazy in love...but maybe I did, a little, fall in love.
I don't know. I don't understand it any more than I can understand calculus. At least with calculus, if I practiced enough, I might get it right.
With Love, it don't think practice helps. It's not that kind of discipline.
posted by Tish Grier at 1:35 AM
5 Comments:
I've been going through alot of the same rootlessness that you're talking about. We've cut out all but one or two members of Caleb's family because of their toxicity. And it's hard. It feels unfair that other people have mothers who will care about them and ask how they are and really care, but you CAN form other roots. Chosen families can be so much more important than blood families. You just have to open yourself to finding a chosen family. The only problem is that you HAVE to open up. You will never find people who love you enough to become your chosen family unless you show them who you are. Best of Luck!
"Chosen family can be so much more important than blood families."
Oh, so true. My "tribe", as I call it, lives thousands of miles away from my blood family. I wouldn't call my blood family "toxic", but i will say that I feel more love and acceptance from my tribe than my kin.
And you're right: opening up is the hardest part, and takes more courage, sometimes, than most of us can muster.
and maybe, this time your falling in love is taking a different path, then you have experienced so far...maybe you and Mr Lucky, are getting there, slowly, deeply, first as comrades, why worrying about it? so far, it seems, as a very sweet common friendship, that any thing can develop of it, let your self go darling!
I think the art of loving does improve with practice and with attention. Keep at it. Hope you find your tribe of swans where you know you belong.
Thanks everybody...my feelings right now are so very, very weird. I'm not sure if I'm giving into them, or allowing myself a level of hysterics, or what.
And things are moving super-fast right now with the festival, then going out to Boston, and then some other professional stuff. It's a strange time for me and I don't know what's going to happen next which also freaks me out.
so, I'm freaking out--and I'm not really thinking about family because I know things are really, really going to change.
argh.
Heather when I read your comment I thought "maybe what I'm looking for is my tribe of nerds." because, underneath that facade lies a real nerd. Most people can't believe it when I nerd out, but, hey, that's life. Although I hope there's a halfway decent looking blond one in that tribe!
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