This is the thing about love that is so hard. It really demands courage. You spend the evening enjoying him. You find your heart thrilling when he smiles, your thighs tremble when he looks serious and your spine collapses when he looks into your eyes. That part is good. You wonder when and how and what it'll be like when he finally puts his hands on you. You daydream of caressing his cheek and brow and nibbling on his tender lips, your smiles connecting intimately. Then home to the empty bed to think. First thoughts of the future together, how you might manage to overcome the obstacles, the things you could do together, the accomplishments possible.
That's when you start to wonder if you should have told him this or that about you. You remember how it was with the last one. How you never were sure when his feelings changed or why. He didn't say one day “I cannot keep doing this.” He didn't say “That's awful, how could you be that way?” No, he just didn't call when he usually does and later when he finally did he had some perfectly reasonable reason. He was busy, he was tired. Was it when you finally stopped being cool? Was he only in it for the challenge of the chase? Was it when you told him your fears? Or was it when you showed your wanton side? Perhaps it was that dark secret you wanted to be sure he knew before you felt that you were too deeply invested for rejection. Of course you already were or you'd never have told him that. It's not something you tell even your best friend, after all.
No, you don't know because he pulled out so gradually it took you weeks to even realize something was going on. When you asked, he assured you it wasn't so. No, he's just tired. He's busy. Work's picked up and he just doesn't have as much time as he used to.
Eventually you know it's over because he's as scarce as tulips in August. You're not really even friends, just awkward nodding acquaintances. You really want him to tell you that he had loved you, even if you never got to where it was said. That he did, till he found out who you really were and realized you weren't who he thought he loved. But you don't want that either, that would make it more lost. You wonder what it is about you, should you hide it next time? But if you hide it, then it comes out later as it always will, then you'll have invested so much more. After all, nobody can live a lie. So he wasn't right. But you never did find anything about him to reject. Except maybe this one thing, that he never did tell you. He just pulled that fade out. Eventually it feels so low you that you stop liking him anyway, stop caring.
So now there's a new one. You know he's a lot like that last one. You know because you always wind up attracting the same sort of guy. Naturally therefor, whatever chased off the last one will probably do the same again. But maybe not. After all, there's someone for everyone isn't there? And this time the man is older. So are you. That's got to be worth something? He's more interested in serious love. Won't that make him more forgiving? Oh now you're putting too much importance too soon. That's it, now you've done it, you have made yourself look desperate for telling him how much you already care. That's going to leave him worried about how bad a loser are you anyway? After all, he's not exactly thinking of himself as Mr. Everyone-wants-me, because you wouldn't like him if he was, so he's already wondering what's wrong with you that you'd look at him twice.
Is that so strange? Aren't you still wondering what's wrong with him that he's single? You've already wondered and checked up on that, made sure he really was single. What's this pleasant, mature, handsome man doing single? What are YOU doing single? Why? Again the sharp fears. He'll find out, he'll discover that you really are a loser. He'll see horrible things in you that you don't even know you have. Whatever the reason is that you've been passed over all these years, he's sure to see it.
Now you're balling into your pillow again. You know it's silly, but you also know it's not. It's happened before. You should just cut your losses, cool off, get busy, quit thinking and wanting and hoping so damn hard and turn off your heart and accept that you're one of those ppl that never ever ever is ever going to be loved. Now you're crying harder. You know you have to ride this one down to the depths of hell if that's where it's going to take you because to do any less is to be the one to blame for being alone. Of course you're alone if you quit too soon.
But damn, why not me? Why not? Why can't everyone find someone to love like the songs say? All the songs and stories promised it so you keep trying again and again. Then late at night you look down the tunnel of despair with which you've lived so long. It's so much blacker having been in love's light all evening. It's so much harder to accept. It's harder to remember what it felt like the last time you'd resolved yourself to your quiet life petting your furkid and watering your plants and dancing alone to your stereo. It didn't look pathetic to be alone then. It felt strong and secure and independant.
"I don't need him, I don't need anyone, I'm happy" you thought to yourself. And you were. You were content. You were at peace.
Why the hell did you even have to meet this one? He was so kind and flattering and smiled so sweetly. He said such fine things. You started to think that maybe you actually might have been wrong about love. If you're so content on your own, how much happier would you be to add that long wished for love into the equation? So you started flirting back. Then you started sharing your feelings about love, life, the universe and everything. Next thing you know you find yourself having lascivious dreams you want to share with him. You want him to want you so bad that he'll follow you panting. Surely with sex you can capture him. You get to know him and look harder and harder for something you can call a fatal flaw. Some reason to reject him. Is he crazy? Needy? Demanding? Weak? What? What's wrong with him. Nothing. His eyes pierce you across the distance. His lips make you weak in the knees.
It's already too late and you cry in pure terror each night waiting for the whole thing to evaporate, praying that this time it won't.
Love hurts even when it's new. Love develops thorns well before it blooms.
Remember when you were young and couldn't concieve that anyone could ever reject you? You were so secure. So sure, every moment of new love was a ride on a cloud. The future was yours, you had only to slot everything in place.
When did you become this desperate scared creature? Crying every night because you're falling in love and it matters so very much and you are far more sure of rejection than acceptance? Was it the time you nearly got married but he changed his mind? Was it the time you talked a dear friend into a love affair only to break his heart after trying to live with him and finding him utterly intolerable in such close quarters? When did your hardened heart get so brittle?
Where, oh where do I find the courage to face this? To try again at a game I just cannot play to win? And you know, when you lose you often lose more than the love. More than the friend you started out making. You often lose the community in which you met him. People talk. People make up juicy things to say. People come up with some brilliant insights on your psychology and bat them around like the birdie at a badminton match. It's not long before one of you can't show their face. People choose sides. They don't even have to know you ever had tried to fall in love. Like hungry wolves they know a heart's been ripped out and lies warmly beating, helpless on the floor.
But next day comes and you sit quietly at home waiting for a call, wondering what you used to do that kept you busy. What DID you used to do with this time as you now sit and do little hand tasks, sew on a button, wash up some dishes, braid your hair, paint your nails, chew your nails, unbraid your hair, dirty some dishes, sew up another button. Get up and check email for a message. Get up and pace. Should you show you're not so pathetic and go out for the evening without telling him? Aww, but he doesn't deserve that, he's expecting to find you there smiling and ready to spend time. And it's what you WANT to do, after all. You wait. He's got to get home from work. He's got to have a bite and rest up a bit. He'll call. What time does he usually call? Is it time yet? Time slows down ridiculously as you wait. It'll balance out by passing in a wink when you finally hear from him.
Will you ever feel like he knows you well enough not to find any more surprises but know for sure he likes you? Will he ever? What will you do again if this one too fails? Shave off all your hair and black out your teeth and gain fifty pounds, that's it, just put an end to this all. Stop attracting them and maybe you can stop worrying like this.
Ok, just this one time I'll try again because after all, you can't win if you don't play the game, but really, this IS the last time, this is IT, after this, no more, I will stay in that contented single space petting my beloved furkid, watering my garden and checking my mail for letters from my auntie or sister or mother. I'll go back to seeing movies alone and enjoying the peace of it. Having my bed to myself and not wishing for that hairy spicy maleness to be in there too. Just one more time. Doesn't matter that you've said that the last 5 times you fell in love, this time you'll mean it. This time for SURE.
Yah right.
“Love hurts, love scars, love wounds and mars, any heart not tough or strong enough to take a lot of pain, take a lot of pain. Love is like a cloud, it holds a lot of rain. Love hurts. Ohhhh ohh, love hurts.
Some fools dream of happiness, blissfulness, togetherness. Some fools fool themselves I guess, but they're not fooling me. I know it is untrue, I know it is untrue. Love is just a lie, made to make you blue. Love hurts, oooohhhh oh, love hurts.” -Nazareth
Have courage my love, for there is no other choice in life but to follow where it leads.