It is a nasty, rainy Friday night here in my part of the world.
I have some Pinot Noir in my glass.
I’ve been doing some thinking per usual.
I don’t think this piece will be too long so bare with me.
Love is beautiful. Love that includes reciprocity brings out the best in an individual. However, unrequited love is dangerous to the mind, body and soul. It can be a killer if you let it.
I will speak from my personal experience. Every time I have been in love, the love has never been on equal footing. Yes, the men in my life may have loved me on some level. Love runs the gambit. A man can love you to some degree, but is that love deep enough to meet you where you are?
No man has loved me deep enough to meet me where I was in my feelings for them.
Because I never experienced reciprocity, there is an underlying fear to protect myself from the pains on unrequited love. I also have this unconscious need to simultaneously prove to the person that they should meet me where I am. It is so taxing on the spirit. On one hand I am doing everything someone in love would do (insert whatever “in love” action you deem necessary here to get the point) and on another hand, I am fear struck by anything by brain registers as rejection or betrayal.
When the person you love doesn’t love you at the same wavelength, the game is wide open. Anyone can come into their life at anytime and trigger something within in that person that compels them to give that person what you want: love that warrants commitment and reciprocity. This has always kept me on edge, triggering feelings of inadequacy-feeding my tumors of insecurity.
Weaving between those lanes have wrecked my spirit over the years. It’s always kept me on guard, flaming the fire of my already existing trust issues. Since they are not on the same wavelength, every step outside of the normal routine sparks the thought that this is where they leave me high and dry because the one they really love has come into their life. It has exacerbated my depression and anxiety. It has made me suicidal at times.
Whew–those hurtful feelings brew just reading what I am typing.
Over the last two years, I am have been on this quest for happiness. Happiness that stands on this own, without the crutch of a relationship and handclaps from society for fitting into societal norms. You guys already know I would love to have a partner. However, I be damned if don’t experience true happiness outside of that. Romantic love isn’t the end all be all. Romantic love is the icing on the proverbial cake, not the cake itself.
My mother died when she was 45. I am eight years away from 45. I had two childhood friends die at 35. I want to live my life as if I can close my eyes and not wake up tomorrow. Every time I lay my head down to sleep, I want to go to bed with a sense of love, peace and joy. I want to die happy. What if I die tomorrow, and my last moments on earth were in torment because my spirit is broken by feelings of betrayal, insecurity, not feeling like I was enough and just plain disgusted with myself because I have consistently lost in the love game?
It is more to life and happiness in life than that, and I want to bathe in that. If romantic love comes, it will find me already happy.
I don’t have any icing on my proverbial cake, but pound cake doesn’t require icing for it to be delicious. I shall enjoy my pound cake.
I won’t let the dangers of unrequited love permanently kill my spirit.