Paying very close attention to my behaviors has proven to be a worthwhile endevor. Since January and the beginning of my relationship with MC, I’ve notice some things within myself. A breaking of self confidence, independence, faith, fun.
I dedicate so much time to my partners. I believe truly in giving what you’d hope to receive. Attention, affection, compliments, desire, sharing of life, dreams, fantasies, hopes, aspirations. I believe in unity. It has never happened that someone has ever responded in full.
I am and always have been polar opposites for some people. Simultaneously too much and never enough. I want to much attention, sex, affection, compliments. I require too much maintenance. Or I simply am not enough in regards to intelligence, social standing, career prospects, beauty, physical aesthetic.
Whatever the case may be, or however you view me, one word always rings true. When I am a partner in a relationship, I’m overwhelming. That word slices through me. It opens me up and allows everything to spill out. All of my hurts and scars. An eviseration of horror. Which in turn only leads to more overwhelming sensations for my partner. Because really, no one wants to see the beasts living in your darkest most closets.
All of these thoughts accompanied me in my trip to Lafayette yesterday. As I approached the familiar roads of the city I grew up in, the truth came to me. I am so much better when I’m alone. These relationships take so much work. I have someone who expects me home in the evenings. Someone who expects me to do the laundry and feed the dogs. Likes when I shave my legs.
In my moments of self reflection and wonder, I begin to debate my effectiveness as a partner. I begin to second guess myself. It’s almost as if I am just around the corner from discovering the actual truth of my life. Believing for so many years, one thing. Just to discover a pure vision of my role in the world. A role where I am none of the things I believe myself to be.
Not a healer.
Not a mother.
Not a friend.
Not a partner.
Not anything I would say I desired to be at some point in my existence. Maybe that the truth of it all is, I’m a an overwhelming vacuous hole of vapid insecurity. A pulsing excuse of a woman wrapped up in too much flesh and desire.
An overwhelming void, better off alone.