Back to the Drawing Board

Here I am... approximately 20 months down the road from what I thought was the love of my life. That journey ended about three months ago. I just couldn't take the mountains and valleys of life living with a man that had no touch with his emotions... or any one's for that matter.

It's not that I want some unattainable, godly creation that only Katherine Heigl is worthy of. I don't need the sexiest man alive. I don't need the richest. I don't need the smartest. In fact, it's not about a state of being at all. It's about feeling... his ability to communicate with me so I feel him always there, the trust I feel for him the second he looks me in the eyes, the lust I feel just walking past him, the tingle I feel shoot up my spine when he touches me.

Back to the dating sites, back to the drawing boards. I feel saddened. I didn't want to do it this way again. I wanted to just know him or meet him.

I think I see plenty of men I wouldn't mind getting to know out there... but men are clearly chicken shits. And sadly, I think 95% of the male population expects to find a beautiful toothpick. Toothpick - I am not. I'm no movie star but I have some appeal, a certain attractiveness if you will.

I want to stay on the right path. I continue to find news ways of being strong. I hold my strength and my coping mechanisms as I casually make my way back to the drawing board... suddenly I remember, I hate this fucking drawing board.

Contact Contentment

Wiki says, contentment can be realistically defined as "enjoyment of whatever may be desired".

I desire contact (dare I say, his) and therefore, it continues to astonish me the power I let others have over me. I'm not nearly as frail, weak, or lost as I was about two years ago. This is no doubt a strength I will continue to grow, just at not nearly the pace I would hope for. But I continue to find myself at the whim of others.

He smiles... I smile.
He cries... I cry.
He worries... I worry.

Just yesterday I let myself be bullied into confusion and hurt. All he had to do was pull away and I felt lost, lonely, and resentful at myself for having let myself feel so deeply. But do I want to feel, love, or lust any less than I do - no!

Each time I open myself to feel... I give myself completely. But men simply cannot handle any degree of this. Do they all just assume we are liars? Do they assume we don't care? Or are they so weak they run because god forbid they risk something, too? This is where one of my favorite principles comes in... compassion!!

But no, instead I whirl myself into a mess and I simply cannot find my head on straight until I have that contact. Someone to lick my wounds. Someone to tell me it wasn't my fault. Someone to tell me I didn't get rejected. Someone to tell me men continue to be the way they always will be... confusing.

Am I the only one that feels this high? ...this rush? ...the flood of desire? Am I the only one to reel out of control until contact is attained? Once it is given... you've found contentment.

Blogging?

I think I've decided to begin blogging again. The way life ebbs and flows can drive a person mad if they do not take the time to consider and reflect on all the fluctuations. I find myself at yet another point of perplexity.

I want so much to feel resolved. I start to think I could find a happiness and it gets yanked away. I just begin to catch my breath and I am served another blow.

One relationship ends and I'm back to trying to find my ground. I'm back to attempting happiness in a reality of seemingly unhappy moments. I begin to move on and I find not only my heart holding me back but those around me. How can you expect to completely let go of someone you shared your life with? If given the choice... would you not want to reserve the pain and take time to break down the fear?

I fear in breaking down so slowly I may lose the opportunity to know and love others. It is sad the pressure we place, as a society, on moving the relationship forward. We make jokes about men who spend their lives evading commitment. We make jokes about women and their endless to desire to commit. So if we all see a flaw in these two polar opposites... why is it we cannot create a semblance of balance.

I want my friend to hold my hand, to talk to, to trust, to spend hours with... just sharing reality. That each question and theory we share helps us move forward, in a world filled with useless knowledge, smarter.


Most of all I will miss the touch of another. The warmth, the softness, the caress back, and the all around appreciation for just sharing space. Why can't we, as men and women just learn to appreciate the balance? And sometimes, the lack there of?

In this moment I find myself stricken with a sadness I had not foreseen. I wish people would always be who they claim to be. Unfortunately, I think people commonly don't know themselves, and hence why, by the end of the day we've both lose sight of you.

This is why I will stick by blogging as opposed to writing or talking to others. Blogging does not judge, create distance, find remorse, or disappear without explanation. Yes, I prefer blogging... if only I had thought to turn to it sooner. I'm the only one I can trust.

Does blogging bring this resolution to everyone?