Love is the conundrum

Love is the enigma, and love is also the desire.

You lost the love of your father, and never really had the love of your mother. That set the stage for the eternal quest for love.

You married your high school sweetheart, you wanted to be sure to scoop up someone who loved you right away, waste no time. Alas, love was not enough for the two of you. Then, you met a lovely man who would do anything for you, and you broke his heart with what you thought was love with another woman. You did not love yourself enough to leave that relationship when you needed to do so.

Ten years later you wake up, and realize that your love, the love inside of you, deserves to be given to someone more deserving. And therein starts a journey to find love that may never conclude. You’ve realized that you are not only learning how to love others, you are learning how to love yourself. No wonder you struggle with family, friendships, and relationships. There’s not just finding a boyfriend. Gosh, finding a boyfriend seemed like the ultimate solution long ago in 1991. You find a boyfriend, never leave him, marry him, and stay together forever. You thought that was the recipe to life and life-long love.

But, no, love is so much more than that. It’s much more than just staying with someone. It’s acceptance and kindness and tenderness and so much more because you are still learning, and you may always be in the remedial class for love.

These days when you struggle in your lessons on love you have to remember this: Do not go back to the Well of Love That Did Not Work.

Do.Not.Do.That. Easier said than done. You are lonely, and want to love. But do not go back. There was a good reason for the end of all of those relationships. Go forward … forward! It’s scary because forward is the unknown, whereas the Well of Love That Did Not Work has some inherent comfort in that you know what to expect from that well.

Do not text the ex-husband. He is married, unhappy, but married, nonetheless.

Do not flirt with the ex-boyfriend down the street. He loved you, but did not see you as his equal.

Do not Facebook message the hotel concierge from Dublin. He was homophobic and cheap, fun for a vacation date, and that was it.

Go forward into the unknown. It’s the only way you’ll have a chance of cracking the lifelong love lesson.

Reread this post when you forget everything you just read here.

I am not sorry

To The Person That Confused Me:

I am not sorry I cried the other night when you told me it wasn’t a good idea for you to come over to my apartment for dinner this past weekend. I am sorry that you noticed I was crying on the phone, but I am not sorry that the depths of my feelings led me to cry.

I will never be sorry that you know exactly how I feel about you.

You’ve acknowledged that you have similar feelings for me, but you won’t act on them. I am sorry that you’ve chosen not to act on these feelings. It’s an even sorrier situation because it seems like you nibble at the edges here and there by flirting on the phone with me.

I must briefly digress by thanking you for spending the anniversary of one of the hardest days of my life recently. That will always mean a lot to me. The memory of you in the pizza place with the loud tie with red, white and blue stars and stripes is embedded in my memory forever. Then to learn that you wore the tie in commemoration of the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom made my heart swell with pride.

And, yes, I had such a good time with you that night that I wanted to spend more time with you last weekend. I would have been sufficiently happy just cooking and playing a board game with you. I feel how I feel about you, but I would not have tried anything because I know where you stand. I respect you enough not to go against your wishes. I would have simply enjoyed talking with you.

I cried because I realized that our friendship will not grow because you are not comfortable spending time alone with me. And my brain just gets all clackety clack with that thought because I have a bunch of other related thoughts rolling around in my head: Are you afraid I’ll be “crazy?” Are you afraid you’ll see one of my other selves?

But there’s more to me than this thing we call DID. You created a barrier between us because of this. I know that you intended not to hurt me, but you hurt me nonetheless with your confusing ways. You also contributed to my feeling of not being good enough in this world because of my DID.

Though I am good enough, you’ll just never know it, and never experience it. I may be flawed as hell and prone to dissociation, but I will get to a better place, and you will miss out in sharing that place with me.

I have to move on, and even typing this makes me teary because you already have my heart. But I have to take it back because you do not want it.

You have every right not to want to have involvement with such a condition.

Still though, I cannot ignore the fact that it breaks my heart. If I didn’t have this illness you could see me as me. I wish you could see the me underneath all of this. Part of me wants to say, “Wait! Let me just get integrated in a couple of days, and I’ll be all better.” But I know better. I know that my recovery is a process that I cannot expedite any further. I so wish I could for me and for you. I wish with all my might that I was without this illness, and that I could just carry on like other folks.

But that is not what life dealt me, and all one can do with such a hand is make the most of it.

I wish I was DID free for you. But I am not. Someday maybe, but not today. And for that, I am sorry.