Tuesday, February 07, 2017

Relationship Blues

The truth is that I do not feel love the way I used to.

With you I no longer feel a great desire to grab you and kiss you and take you. With you, I feel the sediment of a lot of misunderstandings, lies, and hostilities. My ghosts are not your ghosts, but they haunt us both and don't care who they try to cast out of their self-inflicted misery.

With other people I do feel the desire to grab and kiss and take, to be grabbed and taken and desired. But I do not know if even this feeling is love anymore. You have taken a lot of time and energy to explain to me, with all the moral lessons taken from television and novel and personal anecdotes from my life and yours, how these desires are not love. They are something that clogs the mind, enfeebles the heart, misdirects the body, and confuses the issue. Better, instead, to be sober and rational and discreet, hide our feelings or desires and quell them through self-imposed discipline, and only love when it's safe, harmless, and small. Desires of the flesh are fine, but only in moderation and with a sane person and with the approval of people who envy it for themselves, —because these things are not love. They do not lead to love, they do not create love, they are dangerous to love's course.

Then why is it that when those things are gone from us, you say I don't love you the way I used to? Why is it that you only really feel loved when you get those things? What are you doing to cultivate something that's beyond any of those things, a fleshless desire or rational feeling or a wordless movement in the heart? Or is it only acceptable to think that your desire for grabbing and taking and desiring is love, but what I have for others isn't at all?

Now I am so hesitant to say how I feel when quickly I'm told, by new and old, that it's not really love. Every one tells me how to feel my love. Don't feel that. Feel something else. What should I feel? I don't know, no one has the way to explain it to me. Every one tells me the appropriate and inappropriate ways to feel what I feel. But they cannot tell me the source or reason for this propriety. Then when I come back from contorting myself to fit all the ways all of you tell me to conform to all of their ideas of love, I discover from all of this that I'm no more allowed to feel how I feel or act how I act. I am supposed to feel a different way, and you can always tell the feelings of my soul from the way I am supposedly not behaving. Is it any wonder I cannot function with any one? I am confused and incompetent when it comes to talking or sharing about love. Might as well admit that I am not in love with anyone at all, just confused into thinking I was ever happy being something I apparently wasn't.

Who really wants to know how I love? I have written about it, over and over and over. Does it matter? Maybe, maybe not. I feel like I am being vulnerable and revealing and sincere, but then it's all wrong. Have to start over: love is . . . whatever I am not doing.

So you said that this is what is supposed to happen in relationships. All relationships work this way. Someone feels they're not respected and asserts their position. People either conform to the request or they negotiate. People need assurance in their relationship they are respected, valued, and appreciated. People either show these things or they talk about it. People ask each other questions to solicit thoughts and behavioral responses. People either answer the questions or they indicate they are unable to answer.

Am I people? Is this what I am supposed to be like? Is that what I have been always supposed to be? Is that what we're supposed to do? If I am not who I am supposed to be, then who am I? If I am not feeling the way I am supposed to feel, am I myself? If I am not acting the way I am supposed to act, am I somebody else entirely?

Maybe I don't want to match the little version of me kept inside minds belittled with small thinking, small feeling, small worlds. Or maybe I should keep cutting away all this flesh getting in the way with its wanting to be more than the expectations of these boring people you think keep me alive by giving me money and attention and job security. Job security!

Maybe I am so overwhelmingly frustrated with coming back to this same corner, feeling the same pressure that molded me when I was a beautiful small boy left alone with a dark doubt, feeling the guilt put upon me because I am no longer quick to dance the jig for doubt's chronic depression, all the more pressured and pained when it cannot pull my strings anymore. I was the dim candle for entire rooms of darkness and loathing, and the darkness consumed me for my beauty, keeping all this small light for itself, because it could not see any other joy in its dim, dark life.

Do you even remember my NAME? If you don't remember, that's okay. It's meaningless to you. Forget it. It's not important anymore. None of my delusion is important anymore.

Maybe I'll just smile permanently on the outside the way I have to here at work. What is the sense in ever being honest with my feelings if I'm not the person I'm supposed to be? What is the point in being true to who I am if there is no room, no space, no place, for that person in this world where we can only ever be what others suppose us to be, and no more, no less?

The vast majority of people who suppose my life and constrain me don't know anything about how I work on the inside, but then none of this matters anymore.

It's nothing but smiles from now on.



  1. I told my Dad the other night when I called him, feeling a bit happier about the future, that I was seeing someone new.

    He told me No. He said "Don't do that, Son."

    I said, "Why?"

    He said, "Because it's wrong."

  2. Don't look at others to see yourself. People reflect back distorted images because of the flaws in themselves. None of us are perfect. We cannot accurately define another soul.

    Shoulds will kill us if we let them.

    One of my favorite mantras when trying to control others, or feeling controlled by others is "Live and let live." You could just as easily say "Love and let love".

    Remember what you taught us, ALL voices need to be heard. Don't stop expressing yourself to fit in.

  3. I know that looking into myself inevitably comes to the wall, the edge of the black sphere. The (gravitic?) distortions so near to my center change the flow of time there, so it's somewhat like what you say: if looking with the flaws of others somehow changes what we look like, so will looking at our own flaws —if a distortion is the result of a flaw or an imperfection. I think distortions are also the result of the carnival mirrors we wear inside and outside.

    Sometimes I feel like listening is the hardest thing with the Voices. Some of them say very mean or hurtful things, whereas other say warm and nurturing things. It's not correct to say the mean ones "aren't me" but the nice ones "are the real me." I think it's not correct because they are all working through the entirety of me, the whole system I am, to say what they want to say. People will pick and choose which of them is the voice they will hold me to, so who among the voices are the ones I choose? Do I hear them all out, or something else?


Is this wise?
Is this yours?
Is this love?

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