I have been crying a lot lately. At nothing at all, at the smallest things. It comes upon me suddenly and if I'm with people I have to remove myself, I can't swallow it down and save it for later. Sadness consumes me, it swirls in a hurricane of tears around me, lasting for moments or hours. I can listen to the opening bars of a song, or think fleetingly of something in the past, or hear vulnerability in my voice and woooosh, it's there and I can't escape it. I am not usually this raw.
On Friday it happened twice. First as I voiced a little of my frustrations at university, I felt the fizziness in the nose, my speech faltering, my eyes stinging. I had to stop talking and let E rage against somethingorother so that nobody would notice. Then as I walked home I was listening to happy-in-love songs and suddenly I was sobbing, I felt my heart was breaking, and it was all I could do to keep walking. Thankfully my scarf protected any anticipated judgement from passers by. Yesterday it happened whilst watching a tragic, beautiful love story, I cried and cried. Not for the story, but for myself. Today it was as I was sleepily horny, luxuriating in the quietness, before I got any further than fantasising I was in tears, waves of anxiety hit me one after the other.
I am in a strange sort of love. I don't understand it and I wish I didn't have it. I shouldn't have asked D to come back to me. I should have been wise, I should have accepted my loneliness. The simplest way I have come to think of things is...I am not happy in my relationship. But I cannot leave him, because I cannot bear to hurt him so much all over again. But what does that mean? Am I to be a martyr to myself, am I to live a lifetime of unhappiness just so I don't break his heart again? I am terrified of being alone - truly alone. But I have realised that I already feel that way. Being in this relationship is the loneliest of all, because the one person I should be able to speak to about anything - I can't.
I am beginning to wonder if I shall ever be happy in a long-term relationship. Whether I have the capacity to live a life with someone else and to enjoy that life. I am not so sure now. I have inherited the best and worst of my mother. I have inherited strong feminism, but also a type of feminism-led madness or hashness, I think. I don't want to end up in the kind of place she is with my dad. They're happy but utterly miserable. I don't want that, and I can see that happening with D - in some respects we're already there. I have never been one to idolise men, I have never put them on pedestals, I have always been the supporter of women. I find men endlessly disappointing. But despite all this, the whole reason I am staying with D and am so terrified of leaving him, is because I'm scared to be alone. I want to find the right one. I want to just know someone is right, rather than this constant doubting. I do want somebody. And I have D, totally and absolutely. But he is not the right one. So what do I do? Sacrifice what I know deep inside for the sake of not hurting him and for not dying alone?
Something else that is involved in this decision is of course self-doubt. Am I really beautiful? Am I really worth falling for? Me, with my craziness and tactlessness and laziness and clumsiness and complete lack of sophistication? Can I bear to leave him, to risk the fact that he may be the only one that will ever love me?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment