I'm starting to wonder if my heart has frozen shut... It would be understandable given what I've put it through in the last few years. Walking around all open, with the equivalent of a "kick me" sign on its back. A friend once told me that I couldn't put my whole self into a relationship. It would leave me devastated - every time, with every ending.
I listened but I didn't know how to do it.
I also thought that it would be like cheating. How could I expect to be loved fully if I refused to love fully?
Trust in love. Trust your heart. Trust the timing.
I wish now that I had learned that lesson he'd been kindly trying to teach me.
It wouldn't have hurt as much. And I wouldn't feel so numb now.
Growing up you read the stories, you listen to the tales, you watch the movies, you listen to and memorise the songs that promise that all you need is love. That, through love, happiness is within your reach.
I think, given those rules, I am overdue a bit of love and happiness.
With Danny... I should have taken his dad's advice. I remember him asking me if I loved his son. And I answered truthfully that I did. Then he said "don't love him too much. He's like me." I didn't understand what he was trying to tell me, that, hearing the love in my voice, he was trying to do me a kindness, help me to guard myself. But I was oblivious, so "in love" I felt confident and secure. I didn't feel the best about myself, I got sad because my dreams were dying all around me - but I had LOVE. What else did I need.
One thing, in hindsight, I needed? A husband who could keep his dick in his pants. Who didn't lie so cleanly to me without remorse. Who loved me in return.
So that's been my m.o. I like, I love, I'm shattered, I'm alone. And all because somewhere along the way I wasn't told that just because you love someone, just because they may "love" you too - it doesn't mean they won't ever try to break you.
It doesn't mean they won't reveal your soft and vulnerable belly to the knife of the world just out of curiosity.
My last relationship... I wonder if he hurt me to see if he still could. Whether I would let him back into my life a third time, even knowing the history, that I would find and feel love for him again. Whether I could forgive that much.
The answers were all yes.
And he slit me open and left me gasping, hurting, and wondering why I couldn't just die.
Love may be too hard for me to accomplish in my life. At least the kind I have felt for others. The kind I assumed I would one day experience myself...
But I think my heart has given up on love.
Maybe it's finally decided to be smart.
