I have been reading, now, for over a year, blogs about men feeling a desperate need to connect with other men, to give and receive affection, to fall in love. I have spent one-on-one time with many of them, and they have graciously answered my questions. The reason for my interest, I suppose, is because I have never really felt those longings for anyone--or acknowledged that I felt them. I have felt attraction in its most basic form. I've had relationships and some friendships. But prior to this year, with the exception of my husband, I've been emotionally intimate with no one.

I listen as these men express longings I cannot understand. The closest feeling I've had to what they describe is when I became overwhelmed earlier this year, with the need to be held in a non-sexual way, by someone who had no attraction to me. Not the same thing by a long shot, but still, I think the longing part I may have started to understand. Those feelings have since gone away, and now when I feel emotions, they seem to last about ten or fifteen minutes, then they pass and leave me feeling a bit confused that they happened in the first place. I find myself apologizing for acting out of character, building a wall to protect the vulnerable place, and moving on with life.

I have never wanted anyone to share my life, to take care of me when I was ill (I still hate it when someone tries to empathize or help me when I'm sick), to be with me every day. The fact that Darrin is there to fill those non-existent needs is somewhat of a mystery to me. The fact that he stays, knowing I really don't want anyone, is something I understand even less. Perhaps he knows that I love him deeply, and can see beneath all the layers to the point where what I think I need is less valid than what he knows I need. And for whatever reason, he's willing to continue to give to a less than grateful recipient.

I have heard the men I've been "studying" talk about romantic love. Their definition of that phenomenon is much different from my own--which of course, isn't a real definition, but one that I twist to suit my own needs. They listen to songs and respond to the lyrics, attaching hidden meanings and hopeful dreams. I listen to songs and analyze the chord structure, admire occasional musicianship or clever wordsmithing. They dream of their "one and only", "soulmate", "perfect guy", "forever friend." I dream of sleeping, making it through another day successfully, beautiful sights, a really great practice session.

I thought that I would find some answers with the people I've come to know. Instead, I've found more questions about myself. As I've learned how to heal from my past, I'm realizing that it's not really changing who I am. I'm not more "normal". I still feel the need to isolate. I still fight against allowing people to be close to me. I still feel at peace only when I'm running alone. It seems I attached more importance to the results of abuse than I should have. The truth, I suppose, is that I'm just this way.

Sometimes, though, I would like to know how it feels to long for someone with all my soul, to view the world through "in love" eyes, to feel giddy and excited just to be with someone special. To have a heart broken because of love, not because of fear or violence, seems an experience every person should have. To feel purely, and intensely, without a surrounding cushion of numbness, practicality, and inevitability...

Things to do in lieu of sleep

1. Fold laundry. This is a quiet activity that will disturb no one.
2. Blog. Be aware that all blog entries written after 3:00 a.m. will sound slightly insane.
3. Go jogging.
4. Take a drive. This is especially fun after 1:00 a.m. because all the stop lights become blinking yellows.
5. Contemplate doorbell ditching the entire neighborhood. Then recall that you're no longer a teenager and the neighbors are less likely to laugh than to call the police.
6. Lay in the grass and stargaze. Think about how the stars would look if arranged in symmetrical stripe patterns across the sky.
7. Wish there was someone to talk to. Talk to self, instead. DO NOT CHAT. Anyone awake at this hour will be going to bed soon, which you will find terribly depressing.
8. Tell self a fun story. Enjoy one's creativity and cleverness. Remember that the story will be much less entertaining to people who actually sleep.
9. Tell self funny jokes. Laugh hysterically. Quietly, of course. Other people are sleeping.
10. Wish for sleep. Wish for no dreams. Above all, do not cry.

Random Thoughts and Virginia Woolf

"Man can respect nature and advance. We know this because a man can have a wife and a hobby."

Tolkien Boy shared this quote with me from one of the many writings he was grading. I thought it was beautifully fatuous, yet regrettably compelling. Kind of like staring at a horribly ugly painting while a museum guide tells you all the reasons one should love it, although perhaps fine art, no matter how hideous, is too sophisticated to be used in comparison with my choice of quote.

Which reminds me, I have a favorite artist. The surrealistic paintings of Rene Magritte have always fascinated me. This one makes me laugh:

I have always held that one should never identify too closely with another person. As I become older, however, I find myself drawn to Virginia Woolf. We have interesting similarities, some speculative, others factual. Virginia was sexually molested by her half-brothers, and suffered emotional breakdowns throughout life. She was sexually more interested in women than men, but married her husband and remained with him until she died. She had no children, so many speculate that the marriage was never consummated. I have often been fascinated by her words to and about her husband. In her diary, she once wrote:

"Love-making — after 25 years can’t bear to be separate ... you see it is enormous pleasure being wanted: a wife. And our marriage so complete."

There's no question that she deeply loved her husband, and he returned that love. He watched for emotional and mental breakdowns and cared for Virginia throughout each episode. In her suicide note to him, Virginia wrote:

"I feel certain that I am going mad again. I feel we can't go through another of those terrible times. And I shan't recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and I can't concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I don't think two people could have been happier till this terrible disease came. I can't fight any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work. And you will I know. You see I can't even write this properly. I can't read. What I want to say is I owe all the happiness of my life to you. You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good. I want to say that — everybody knows it. If anybody could have saved me it would have been you. Everything has gone from me but the certainty of your goodness. I can't go on spoiling your life any longer. I don't think two people could have been happier than we have been."

The interesting thing, to me, is that Virginia Woolf considered suicide selfish and pointless. And yet, she was able to devalue her life, based on qualifying the effect her life had on one she deeply loved. I understand that. More than understanding, I identify with that. There are so many times, when I remember how Darrin has taken care of me emotionally, physically, and spiritually. I wonder about the quality of his life. I worry that my needs have overshadowed his to the point that he rarely has his needs met. I wonder about "spoiling" his life. I feel helpless, knowing that there is so much I lack, and I completely understand Virginia.

Following his wife's death, Leonard Woolf fell in love with a married woman, Trekkie Parsons, who juggled her relationships with her husband and Leonard, dividing her time each week between the two men. She was 39, Leonard was 61. Their love letters are now a published book.


Why do I wonder about this. My story is my own. But Virginia haunts me.

"I understand Nature's game -- her prompting to take action as a way of ending any thought that threatens to excite or to pain."

"What is chastity then? I mean is it good, or is it bad, or is it nothing at all?...In my opinion, chastity is nothing but ignorance--a most discreditable state of mind...It is as unfair to brand women with chastity as with unchastity...Some of us haven't the opportunity of either..."

"It is the object of life to produce good people and good books."

"The beauty of the world, which is so soon to perish, has two edges, one of laughter, one of anguish, cutting the heart assunder."

"Life is not a series of gig lamps symmetrically arranged; life is a luminous halo, a semi-transparent envelope surrounding us from the beginning of consciousness to the end."

Myths

Myth Number 1:
I'm just going to do a little bit of counseling, work through the emotional stress I'm feeling, and get back to the my regular routine. I think it will take about four months.

Myth Number 2:
My past is my past. I can make everything better by achieving great things in my future. I don't ever have to look back.

Myth Number 3:
If I'm the best parent I can be, the things that bothered me in my childhood will become equalized, and they won't bother me anymore.

Myth Number 4:
I can forget the things that hurt.

Myth Number 5:
I don't need any help. I can do this on my own. I've been strong my whole life, I will continue to be strong.

Myth Number 6:
I don't need people. They are basically unreliable, and really owe me nothing. There is no one who can care about the things that have happened to me--not even me. Everyone has his/her own life, and that's as it should be. I can get through this without anyone else.

Myth Number 7:
I'm not angry.

Myth Number 8:
I can figure this all out, find a solution, and make everything better.


Talk about delusional. I'm amazing.

Stochasticity

Number one:
Darrin loves chick flicks. This has developed in the years since we've been married. I, on the other hand, prefer a good comedy--or a walk outside. Tonight we alternated between Sweet Home Alabama and While You Were Sleeping. I finally escaped for my walk. Friend Larry has suggested that perhaps Darrin is compensating for a romance deficit in his marriage. When he propsed his preposterous proposition, I shoved him off the bleacher seat, upon which we were sitting while we waited for a Junior High choir to sing to us. This was very difficult since Larry weighs at least twice as much as I do. I felt much better when he sprawled on the floor, a good 15 inches below where I sat (yes, we were on the bottom row), however, part of me wonders if he was right, especially since he just lay there and laughed at me.

Number two:
I am incapable of being serious today. If you called or chatted with me and I seemed a bit light-hearted, well, I was. And nothing was sacred. I can't help it. Sometimes that happens. Don't be offended, I'll be better tomorrow and life will be frighteningly serious and you can share all your heartbreaking drama with me again. I promise I'll listen this time, and I won't laugh nearly as hard. I still won't offer advice. I still won't tell you if I think you're right of wrong. But I'll say soothing things like: "That sounds like it was a difficult thing for you..." or "Wow! how do you feel about that?" or "I can understand how that might be upsetting for you..." If I practice my validation statements for an hour or so tonight, will you give me a chance to use them tomorrow?

Number three:
The blue flax are in bloom. It's gorgeous and I'm very happy about it.

Number four:








I love this picture. I know. It's creepy. It also makes me giggle a little bit. Also, the face on this Cupid reminds me of someone I know....oh, and don't forget to notice his tattoo...

Number five:
I found scented markers on my dining room floor. This is unusual because there is never anything on my dining room floor except carpet and furniture and occasional crumbs when I need to vacuum. I think the cherry one smells best. If you hold the marker too close when you smell it, it colors your nose.

Number six:
I did not straighten my hair today. That's all.