Ever stare at a word so long that it stops making sense? Ever stare at your life so long that it stops making sense? I’ve been long debating on writing this post, but never really knew how. I let heart and “love” consume me for so long that I think I may have slightly repulsed myself at the idea of writing about this part of my life. But today I found myself reading THIS LETTER to Gala and deciding that perhaps this is the time.
I’m single. I say this with a bit of reverence. a strong sense of power and accomplishment, with maybe a dash of pang. For a long time this was not the case. Even when I wasn’t in a relationship, I wouldn’t have fully considered myself single. I was hoping or dilly-dallying or looking or not getting rid of excess man clutter. I don’t feel like I ever really let myself just be. I don’t regret the decisions I’ve chosen, the choices I’ve made or really the people who were once in my life. I may wonder sometimes what the hopscotch I was thinking, but I understand that it’s a learning process. And boy, did I teach myself a lot.
“It’s just that I dated you five years ago, and I dated you six months ago. You’re beautiful, just no.” I resemble that statement. For a long time I carried around my past baggage not as baggage, but more as a badge of courage, like “look! I survived this and I’m still here!” and a shield. A shield to protect myself from ever falling truly, madly, deeply despite that being my fondest wish. So instead I chose men that deep down I knew would not fit me. Men I could keep at arm’s length. Men I could control myself around and detach from if need be. And the occasional man in my life that I couldn’t be that way with I let cause chaos. All were good people, but not for me. I think to some extent perhaps I even was punishing myself. Punishing myself for past sins. I didn’t like who I became around those people, and yet I’m the one who chose them. A bit of masochism at it’s finest I do believe.
So I spent last year letting go. And it took me the better part of the year to do. My relationship had truly ended by Nov ’09, yet it dragged on until January just for the sake of obligation. That’s no real way to be, let-me-tell-you. Then I was on again off again, looking maybe, dating maybe, causing chaos with the false title of “enjoying myself”. Again, I don’t recommend. It hurts the soul. And then I gave myself a belated birthday present and stopped. Stopped dating, stopped having sex (not that there was much had to begin with), stopped having people in my life that didn’t belong.
Oh sure, every once in a while I wonder. Wonder if I’ve given it enough time. Wonder if I’m ready to dip my toe back into the water. Each time I contemplate this, I also get the urge to throw up. Perhaps this is HIS hint that that’s not the way it’s to be. For some time now I’ve had this unquestionable sense that whatever will happen will be entirely organic. And it will not be from looking. Sometimes I get frustrated at this though, impatient. I don’t bar-hop or go out to clubs, this is not my scene what-so-ever. I don’t date at work because I subscribe to the thought that you don’t poo where you eat. And I don’t have this enormously huge group of friends. So what’s a girl to do? Wait. A friend says that as long as put yourself out where people are then you’re doing your job.
And on the flip side, not dating offers you quite the opportunity to know yourself and experience life in a way that no other time of your life will be able to afford. To do things on your own and learn how you tick. I find that most people find this an absurd idea and never do it. I’m not one of those. Knowing yourself, self-relection, change and self-love are integral parts of being a whole human being. To go through life without knowing yourself is an awful shame. My goal is not to “survive” this life, but to live it and love it.
I consider myself to be a realistic romantic. I heart all things Valentine’s day and when I have a partner in crime, I love to do little things throughout the year to let them know they are special just because. I whole heartedly believe that each person has one someone and that being with someone else for the sake of loneliness or comfort throws the world off kilter. It’s bad karma. I’d rather be alone and happy than together and miserable. I have no misconceptions about money not being the single most factor for causing tiffs and divorce. And I have a realistic understanding of my own body image and that I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. I also understand that I don’t need to be. Just one, who fits me. I am a work in progress and I expect them to be. I also expect their hug to melt me, and for a kiss to dissolve into goodness. To love into laughter, to be adventurous in the world and my own city. To communicate in something other than grunts and ok’s and to have an intelligence to challenge my own. To not change every aspect of my life nor theirs but instead be a part of each others. To remind me of love . . .
“Just as spring’s role is different from that of fall, so each of the seasons of our lives has a different emphasis, focus and beauty. One is not better than another, each season yields its own unique treasures. We cannot skip ahead to experience the riches of another life season any more than a farmer can rush the spring. Each season builds on the one before it . . . Like fruit picked green or a flower plucked before it blossoms, our attempts to rush timing can spoil the beauty . . . “
“Most birds were created to fly. Being grounded for them is a limitation within their ability to fly, not the other way around. You, on the other hand, were created to be loved. So for you to live as if you were unloved is a limitation, not the other way around. Living unloved is like clipping a bird’s wings . . . pain has a way of clipping our wings and keeping us from being able to fly. And if left unresolved for very long, you can almost forget you were ever created to fly in the first place.”
“Once you begin to know the being behind the very pretty or very ugly face, as determined by your bias, the surface appearances fade away until they simply no longer matter.”
” . . . you cannot produce trust just as you cannot ‘do’ humility. It either is or is not. Trust is the fruit of a relationship in which you know you are loved. Because you do not know that I love you, you cannot trust me.”
“Women. in general, will find it difficult to turn from a man and stop demanding that he meets their needs, provides security and protects their identity . . . Men, in general, find it very hard to turn from the works of their hands, their own quests for power and security and significance . . . “
“We are not only able to see the uniqueness of one another in color and light, but we are able to respond through the same medium. Each relationship between two persons is absolutely unique. That is why you cannot love two people the same. It simply is not possible. You love each person differently because of who they are and the uniqueness that they draw out of you. And the more you know another, the richer the colors of that relationship.”