I don't really feel this way anymore.
Although I do feel a deep ache,
deep down.
But I felt that maybe by posting this,
by not hiding or being ashamed of my pain
any longer, I would finally be able to move on.
Because I want to move on now.
Move out. Move through, leave.
Leave Mummy's nest. It's springtime.
Reflecting back on what I wrote a month ago
(how time flies! Like the albatross)
I am coming to understand love as a conscious
choice. Partly!
And I still feel... Love us a feeling we can and
must feel for everyone at points.
The difference with being in love, perhaps then,
is a conscious choice to feel that love we normally
feel for everyone with increased depth, intensity,
and time. Time because it can involve thinking of
that person more. Or dedicating more of our time to
that person in any terms - contact, thought, deed,
visiting, etc.
But then... I could be wrong. Maybe all of that isn't
necessary always. Maybe love just is. Msybe you can't
word it or quantify it all the time.
Matty said on Wednesday 'Love is commitment'.
We didn't half argue about that one!
He bit my ear off over it for a good hour
the ratbag ;-)
I tried to argue that sometimes we commit out of
a sense of duty. A carer for a disabled brother
may be hitting their disabled brother. How is that love?
Of course, love may have been their initial motivation
and they may still feel love deep down, in the seed
of their heart. It's just that stress, through overwork,
and negative attitudes built up as a result of overwork
and a lifetime of stress, have clouded the horizon of
their heart.
Just as, with Matt, I felt resentment through years of stress
and mistreatment had built up so much as to obscure
the light of love entirely like a black cloud on the
horizon.
Mind you it can't be just that because although love has certainly
returned between me and Matt now time has eased the resentment and stress,
it's not couple love
anymore for me. I don't think it can be ever again.
That's the kind of thing you can't define.
You just have to trust your inner feeling.
---------------------------
Anyway, the poem from February:
When all else fails, a poem.
"Only in silence, the word;
Only in dark, the light;
Only in dying, life:
Bright the hawk's flight
on the empty sky"
The Creation of Éa
Today, my wounded soul will fly.
A tortured eagle, lonely, abandoned.
A battle scarred dragon, retreating to the nest.
High, in a cave on the mountains.
I can confess to noone my deepest inner pain. No more. It seems to create more pain and suffering.
Pain can only be silent, for a while.
I have failed, again. Deeply failed.
I am alone again.
I gave my heart, my soul, my everything again.
But no one wants my heart. No one wants my soul. No one wants my everything.
Everyone just wants a piece of me. A part. And perhaps this is normal. Perhaps this is life.
But I just wanted to give everything I had to one person.
Isn't that normal too?
I wish I could express this but I fear that, through expressing this, I will ruin my already ruined chances of an everlasting love even further.
And thus, the pain is contained.
Expressing my sadness seemed to be working so well. Until this week.
I have so much to give.
I wish someone wanted what I have to give.
I must be so wrong, so stupid.
I haven't felt this way in years. Or at least, I can't remember having felt this way, this deeply since...
In some strange ways, the way I feel this week - the way I perceive my past - I actually have begun to think that I only ever deeply loved one person in my entire life. Until now.
'Now' being a funny word. When that love is rejected, unwanted, where can it go? Can it survive?
My love, largely unwanted, is turning inward once more. Into my tortured heart cave. The bosom of myself.
Will my love die, nestling, churning in this bosom?
Will I die?
I know I will survive. I always do. Although I have come close, in my darkest of hours, to perishing before, with great fortune, I have been one of the lucky ones. Angels didn't rescue me in my darkest moments even though I wanted them to. Perhaps a violent argument was too dark a path for even an angel to tread. I was bloody lucky, although much misfortune befell me.
Will my love survive?
I hope so. But I need another soul to feed it. Too much anguish has been caused to me in the name of unrequited love? Yet... Perhaps I could. Perhaps only when love is unrequited one can truly feel its depth. Perhaps only when we feel unworthy, we truly want to become perfect. Sacrifice all to win love.
I am imperfect. Maybe I do need to change, to win love. Maybe this is the only way.
O for this to become the greatest love of my life. That is what I wish. To feel what I felt for... him again. I cannot speak his name, like Voldemort. He is the Voldemort of my heart.
You would not believe that I have been committed and married for 4 years, in other long term relationships for 2 years, and yet actually, I think the deepest love I ever felt was not for any of these people.
I wonder if he even knows? Deep in his eagle's cave. Would he care to know? Would it be beneficial to tell him?
I think he pretty much still hates me. But maybe it's just the way his depression makes him behave that makes me think that. I always have to call him etc. Doesn't reply to my messages. He doesn't put the phone down on me though.
The Voldemort of my heart - he taught me so much. I almost want to call him she, because in essence, he taught me so much about femininity. About my feminine soul. More than anyone has, apart from maybe my daughter and ex husband. He taught me my first lesson. The essence of what I needed to know.
I loved him with a depth that I hitherto could not have fathomed. It hurt. It ached. It pulsed. It drained me at times! It was my life. I waited... and waited... and waited... and waited, with the utmost faith, devotion and loyalty.
Last night, in my waking evening dreams, I had a conversation with him. One of those many conversations that I can never have with him in real life because he hates me and won't open up to me ever again? Maybe I should try with that one...
So I said to him, to....A. That I was so glad to have finally found another like him. Like he. I had waited for so long to find another like he...
Yet can I survive? Can I make it? Can I prove myself? Can I be perfect enough? Can I change enough? This time...
February 5th 2012
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