A year and a half ago I decided I wanted to be one of those people that were emotionally unavailable. I knew it was one of those things you only read about in crappy, cheap Harlequin books (or anything Casi’s reviewed, really), but it was nice to dream. A few months ago my mother and I had a conversation about how when I get a notion in my head about something I want for myself, without realizing it, I make it happen. Neither of us are sure how, but we agree on that. I tend to like challenges. I’m trying to stop that, because I find I only seek out certain men for that specific purpose (there are only a handful of people who might get this reference, but there’s a new boy who doesn’t really know I exist whose attention I want, but I don’t trust my reasons anymore, so I’m trying to convince myself it’s a bad idea and leave it alone until I’m “healed”). In any event, I was wondering exactly why I couldn’t feel for the person who’s been around that’s basically been my perfect equal. It seems to be this way every time we get back in touch with one another. And I’m starting to wonder if I continuously look to him to keep me from losing all of my emotion. It’s almost like every time I think I’m going to teeter on the edge of giving up on searching, I look to him, and as wonderful as he is, it’s just not enough and I fall into The Nothing. That’s just not fair to him. I keep this up and the boy’s gonna get a complex. Or think I’m a total bitch, at least.
Song quote to portray the feeling: We stand like burning timber; helpless among the cinders; I prayed for rain when the sky was blue; what else could I do? (The Rembrandts; over a decade ago)
So this morning I’m showering (less focus on that, more on the topic here, folks) and I realize I just don’t care. And I’m not entirely sure for how long I haven’t cared, but it’s been a WHILE (I’m thinking since at least, well, Sam). I didn’t want to feel the pain of caring about someone who either didn’t feel the same, or eventually changed their mind about feeling the same, so I managed to stop. I became The Woman With A Cold Heart. And sure, not feeling rejected, or flawed, or pained at all is great. I don’t need to take responsibility for any negative feelings towards me (go psych major, go!). I don’t have to spend an entire month crying my eyes out every single day, acquiring vocal nodules in the process, burdening all of the people close to me because my boyfriend is too chicken shit to tell me he doesn’t want to be with me, thinking he’s sparing my semester, but instead he’s just making life worse by being a total asshole to me every waking moment of our life together. (However, I digress.) But what do I feel instead? Guilt. Because I know I should be giving more. I know I should want to see people (or just the one) and have/make time for them. And let myself get lost in a good thing. But I can’t. I just…can’t. I don’t know how. I try, but it feels fake. I tell myself, “well, self, it’s just not the right person.” But I don’t believe that for a second. The right person could be sitting on my doorstep, bestowing gifts upon me every night, sharing every psychological view I’ve ever had, the perfect combination of hilarious and crazy and serious, and I would deem him annoying for being persistent (and he has done all that, save the doorstep & gifts thing, but it still hasn’t stirred anything). Because right now, no matter what, I cannot find myself excited about someone. I won’t give anyone an ounce of dependence, and I’d rather not see them at all than risk any form of disappointment at all.
I don’t mind getting rejected now, because I didn’t care in the first place, and I wonder if that is a self-fulfilling prophecy of rejection. But I’m not entirely sure what the lesser of the two evils is: am I better off not feeling the pain of trying, or not feeling guilty because I can’t?
More apropriate lyrics! Go run for cover; you better fucking love her, so much you’re moving on; I’m so pathetic, you made me finally see it; got what you want? I’m gone. (Evans Blue)
Oh yeah, Happy Valentine’s Day everyone. (No, really, I mean this one. It’s just ironic, is all.)