I wrote this three years ago and never posted it! I have been afraid to post it, the fear of being known….
The fear of finally being honest with myself, finally seeing myself for who I really am and how I view myself and view the rest of the world through distorted hurt:
I have become somewhat of a hermit lately and I haven’t like it one bit. Its not who I am, I mean I like alone time, but I need to socialize. I spent some amazing time with a group of my friends last night and realized how much I need it and how much I miss it. I think I have been a little depressed lately, those who care about me have been pointing it out but I keep saying they are wrong that I am not. I realize today I have been in denial. I miss him, I miss what could have been, what might have been, mostly, I just miss being around him. It’s more than just the idea of him…
It’s embarrassing, but he has a self produced CD and it’s on iTunes, I bought it along time ago and sometimes I listen to it over and over again on repeat. It caused me to realize how much I cared for him and the fact that there was a great possibility that I could have grown to love him and vice versa.
I understand that this sounds insane and I have no idea if I have ever written about this wonderful man that might have been. I hate to be seen as scared or weak – but that is what I am. He came close to being vulnerable with me and I ran away from him and the situation like a scared little girl – who does that? I was like 24 at the time I think, grown enough to know better. Grown enough to realize I was an idiot a moment too late…
Its not like I am so weird stalker girl that I know this post is probably making me sound like. We were friends once upon a time, not super close friends that hung out all the time and talked everyday. No, we were the causal friends that honestly met only because we ran in the same circle of friends. I could count the amount of times I spoke to him on one hand. Some were pretty basic conversations, I believe we have only one deep conversation the entire time. But there was this moment, this moment will more than likely haunt me for years to come. I know this to be true because it has haunted me for the last four years (it will be exactly four years in Feb).
He stood there eagerly awaiting, waiting to grasp a hold of my attention to finish the conversation of all the words that had been left unsaid. I knew he was leaving soon, move miles and miles away to pursue a life and career that simply didn’t include me. I turned away from him in that moment, I ignored him and made it very clear no conversation would happen. Everything would be left as is, to dissolve away as if it didn’t even matter, as if I didn’t even matter, as if he didn’t even matter, as if the idea of us and what could have been didn’t even matter.
I’ll never forget the the glimpse of hurt I saw across his face as he turned away from me, I’ll never forget that once again I shut myself off and built my walls to keep the pain from coming in and penetrating my heart once again. I’ll never forget the lies I told myself as a source of comfort. Lies that echo to this day: we would have never worked, long distance complicates everything, he would realized he could do better, it would have hurt much more later rather than a clean cut… the lies go on and on.
And really, if I am honest with myself I can admit that I am so stupid when it comes to relationships and feelings because of fear. Mostly, I am afraid of my own feelings and allowing someone to get close to me. The very idea of opening myself up to the possibility of love and happiness brings about the horrors of opening up pain and ridicule just as well. Despite my years of healing and overcoming the reality of my disillusioned past, I still can’t quite shake the truth that love hurts sometimes, and most definitely people hurt people – it’s a fact – we all disappoint the ones we love most in our life. It’s a truth I never want to face or allow myself to experience, because I remember that I have had more than enough disappointment to last several life times. The pain of memory outweighs the ideas of longing and hope – every time. I cannot over my own self to be able to open my soul to another.
Its been three years and I still can’t let him go, still can’t help but see his face when I close my eyes. See the smile, hear the laugh, see the disappointment and hurt. Its like a nightmare mascaraing as a daydream over and over, like a horror film on repeat, wishing it would end – only to awake realizing it’s your own misery regret.
Truth: the idea of letting someone in deep enough to see all the parts of me, the good, the bad, the pretty, the ugly, and most scary the vulnerable. The real me.
I realized the reason I have never been in love, and always wanted to, is because I am afraid of getting hurt, and allowing someone to love you and loving them back is opening yourself up to not only be vulnerable but allowing them to hurt you.I grew up watching a destructive, volite relationship between my mother and father. Wondering how could you love someone and talk to them that way, yell and raise your voice for no reason, swing your fist and throw items with force to cause enough pain and damage to go see a doctor. To have a love and marriage based on the foundation of abuse and lies.
Like the rest of my siblings I do live in the fear of becoming like my father everyday, but unlike my siblings I live in the greater fear of becoming like my mother if I one day decide to fall in love, even if that man is nothing like my father. My mother was the real monster in their relationship, she was the monster in my sisters and I nightmares.I fear to become like her more than my sisters, because personality and behavior wise, I am more like her than the rest.
I wish I could say that I am done being afraid and done living in the shadows of who I might become or what might have been. But it’s a waking fear, it haunts me when I am awake, and terrorizes me in my sleep. How am I suppose to overcome, I know the best form is to take the leap, try to fall in love. But how can I do such a thing when my walls and fears keep any man from trying to keep close?
My best friend said the right guy will push past my walls and barriers and love me anyways, in spite of myself. I think that is just wishful thinking. Because my greatest fear is I am too damage to recover and ever have a normal relationship with any man. Far too damage to ever comprehend what love actually is.
Time heals all wounds is a lie and how can I learn to love myself when my own parents couldn’t even love me – that question has haunted me for over 10 years and this blog is the closet I have come to saying it allowed. It’s like if I don’t say these thoughts or fears allowed it makes them less true. In reality it just makes me more damaged than I already am.
I need to step out and live life and see what happens – I need remember that I am not who my parents tried to shape and create me to be. I have choice in my life and I chose to no longer be damaged.