April 08, 2003 :: 1:35 a.m.
late night examinations that solve nothing
I just finished up the 9th row of the 9th stripe of my Gryffindor scarf, and as I am
thisclose to needing to tie in a new ball of yarn it seems a nice for some mindless prattle. So let's get to prattling, then.
I've always been one of those naive, foolish, idealistic romantics who thinks that love is the big answer to everything. I've spent my life trying to gain the affections of everyone around me, searching for someone who would really, truly love me for who I am and let me love them in return. Because despite what my harsh and grumpy exterior may convey, I've got a lot of love to give. It's the one element of my personality that has never changed, even when it should have. It's an all-encompassing, burning desire to devote myself entirely to one person, and hopefully along the way earn the same devotion in return.
But it's not like I was a child-whore, running around kissing anyone and everyone I could get my hands on. Not at all. I've never been very openly affectionate because I've never been given the chance. I had my share of stupid adolescent crushes, but I've only ever really dated one person, and I've definitely only loved one person. I like it that way. I'm not an attractive person, and in addition to that I'm extremely introverted and not at all open to meeting new people. That's the way I've always been, and I'll probably remain as such until the day I die. So for the first seventeen and a half years of my life I was alone, in a romantic sense. And I hated it, because if love was the answer and no one loved me where did that leave me?
I can say without pause that Adam is the best thing that has ever happened to me. He's not a "thing," of course, and he didn't really "happen to me," but you know what I mean. The situation that brought us together was thorny and almost ended my friendship with Amanda, but for all the trouble that surrounded it I wouldn't change a thing. We've had our ups and downs, our patches of rocky terrain, but overall our relationship has gone much more smoothly than anything involving me should. I'm not easy to deal with, and I know it. He should be crowned a saint for putting up with me, really. I don't know how he does it.
But for all of the wonderful warmth and goodness that he bring to my life, I know now that love isn't the answer. It doesn't solve everything. It makes me happy, it gives me something to care about, but it can't make my problems go away. It can't change the way I feel about myself. You always hear people say that you can't truly love someone until you love yourself, but I have to disagree. I love Adam with everything I have; I love him more than I love life. But the flipside to this is that for all that I want to give to him, I almost don't want the same in return. No... I want it. I just don't think I deserve it. And it causes problems, I know, because it's hard for me to believe that he loves me as much as I love him and as much as he says he does when I don't think that he should. So it's not that you can't love someone until you love yourself, it's that you can't let someone love you.
I hate that I can't let him in all the way. I wish that I could be open and comfortable and trust him the way that I know he deserves to be trusted. He's a wonderful person who would never intentionally do anything to hurt me. I know this. But what I know doesn't matter sometimes. It doesn't matter most of the time, actually. It's like I'm ruled by irrational suspicion and insecurity to the point where I can easily convince myself that what I know is wrong. I have an incredibly vivid and apparently somewhat paranoid and vindictive imagination, which creates much unfounded misery on my part. I know that it's all rooted in the scarily intense hatred that I feel for myself, but knowing where it comes from doesn't make it any easier to stop listening.
I wish I could just be normal for him. He deserves so much more than me. He's too good to waste his time and energy on some fat, dumpy girl who hates everything. I feel like I make him miserable, even when I'm trying to make him happy. I think the only thing worse than failing to capture love is failing to succeed at it once you've caught it. I feel like this wonderful relationship is going to slip through my fingers because I'm too lost in being miserable to save it. And that scares me more than I could ever find words for.
Well, that was bracing.
I'd like to make note of the fact that this is all just me, sitting up at 2:30 in the morning (yes, it's been an hour), airing out my fears. Adam and I are stable as ever, to the best of my knowledge. I just have to do this sometimes, take out all of my insecurities and look them over for a while. Not the healthiest habit in the world, I'm sure, but I'm not really known for my healthy habits, or for my well-developed sense of perspective and importance. I'm all askew.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
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