She’s great: beautiful, caring, witty, multifaceted, unique,
generous, funny, headstrong, independent, sexy, empathetic, super smart, and
just all around awesomesauce (to borrow a word from her). The more I get to
know her, the more I want to know, and the more compatible I feel we are. We
have quite a bit in common, both good (as in similar senses of humor) and bad
(like having dealt with substantial health issues), and with those not-so-great
things, there’s this bond that you just can’t have without going through something
comparable. It’s nice when someone just understands without having to say
anything. I believe the ways in which we differ are quite complementary, also, leaving
plenty of room to learn from each other and to keep things interesting.
She’s just a cool chick who not only gets (many parts of) me,
she’s actually wanted to. Though I
know it wasn’t exactly literal, one of her first requests of me was to tell her
“all things.” As someone who’s so often ignored and dismissed, but who wants to
share and engage with others, this meant a lot. And it was she who initiated
becoming friends on Facebook, a gesture that’s not lost on me, either. She was
interested in me, that’s right, me!
I will never take that for granted.
Just by being herself, she’s kept me on my toes, reawakening
parts of me that I feared were lost forever. I feel smart and creative again, resembling
an older, more complete and less damaged version of myself that I like a great
deal better. Even with my re-found creativity and sharpness, I can’t describe how
significant that is. So much of my identity has been taken away as my body,
mind, and spirit have been broken down. Now I have some of that back. I’m better
for having her in my life, and I am forever grateful.
I’m drawn to her, too, because I recognize that she’s hurting.
She has a lot going on and just what I’m specifically aware of is significant
and runs deep, and, despite her brave fronts, I still see her pain. I want with
all of my heart to take it away—not that it’s my place, or that she needs me or
anyone else to help her, but because she doesn’t deserve it and I want better
for her. Part of what’s weighing her down is how she’s been treated by others,
and I want to show her how it feels to be boundlessly adored, supported, understood,
appreciated, and loved (all in due time, of course), no strings attached, because she’s more
than good enough just as she is.
It’s been difficult trying to break through to her. She’s admittedly
rather skittish, and the more I’ve advanced, the more she’s pulled away. It
hurts me that she’s been hurt, keeping so guarded, not wanting to get hurt
more. Unfortunately, I haven’t responded well to this, failing to recognize what
I’ve done until after I’d pushed too much, too often. I just haven’t been able
to figure out how to properly express my (only good) intentions to her,
incapable of getting past her understandable defenses. My attempts to clarify
things have just made things worse, piling onto my mistakes. I don’t know how
to pursue her passively in order to get her to come to me. I fear that
withdrawing too much will take me completely out of the picture. To understate
it greatly, I know that I’ve been overly proactive so far, but I haven’t a clue
where a happy medium lies, and therein lies the rub.
I’m so used to people disappearing on me, and it started
early. My dad wasn’t around much. My mom was there, but not. Friends have come
and gone. Few have stuck around, and there are gaps with those who have. People
living in the same, small house have been distant regardless of our physical
proximity, rarely being there when or how I’ve needed them. When I give people
a chance to miss me, they generally end up going missing. I’m just so used to
being left alone and having to put forth such effort for any little bit of
sustained connectedness, at times going overboard when my attempts aren’t acknowledged
or reciprocated.
It's not that I need or want constant attention; it's more that
I have to do so much to get any at all, and she gave me lots of it to start
out, spoiling me as I became accustomed to it. Being alone was easier to manage
when I was healthier because I had more options available to stay occupied. It’s
tricky now, stuck sitting around, not feeling good, forced to be on the outside
looking in with unreliable vision. To keep from stewing over feeling horrible,
I ponder more pleasant things, like being with her, and then I get in trouble
idealizing that somewhat. I should have been much, much better at keeping that
in mind, but it was so very enjoyable that I let myself get lost in it. A wise friend
reminded me that wanting something so badly frequently perpetuates the lack of
it, and that’s certainly been true here, contributing to my overzealousness and
many miscues. Add in a warped sense of time (watched pots never boil and all),
and I can get a little crazy, not being fully conscious of exactly how little of
it has actually passed between exchanges.
When I know and trust that something's there, I’m good with
it, even if it's not as much as maybe I'd like. When I can count on at least a
certain amount, I have something to work with and I’m fine. It sometimes takes me
a bit to adjust to changes, though, which has bitten me in this case. I
recognize, too, that what others are able to see is often only my madness, not
quite in context, so I can't blame them for reacting in kind. But once that
seal is broken, it's hard to put it in perspective, particularly when I keep
shooting myself in the foot doing the same things. Loneliness and isolation are
challenging to navigate, especially when there's some hope of it diminishing
with someone as wonderful as she. It's really easy to get on that train full
force, muddling things when subtly is called for. I’ve had a tough time leaving
her alone, partly because she provides a lot of fodder for feedback with her frequent
and always interesting Facebook posts. Sitting in front of my computer as much
as I do, I’m never that far away from seeing them, regularly unable to resist
the urge to join in. Simply enjoying our interactions, a rare good thing in my
life, adds to my wanting engage so often.
There is something
between us, though, and she’s acknowledged as much, so I’m not completely crazy.
Chatting has been fun and flirty, sometimes serious, but always enjoyable. There
are a few video and writing projects I did for her (e.g. http://visorbrent.blogspot.com/2012/06/psa-from-sasquatch-community.html and http://visorbrent.blogspot.com/2012/06/distress-call-from-australia.html),
along with a couple small gifts, and they were received well. It pleases me
immensely that I’ve been able to make her smile, even just a little, and I’d
love to be able to do that more and more. I really believe I can be at least
partly what she needs, and for a time, maybe she entertained the thought, too.
Now, I’m not so sure, and I have only myself to blame.
I have managed to screw it up. When I should have just let
things play out, giving her a little time and space, I forced the issue for
reasons I still can’t fathom. And when she backed off further, I unwisely pressed
more. The kicker is that I really am much more laid back than I’ve shown myself
to be—I just got too excited about the possibilities and became unnecessarily
and unwittingly impatient. I’d sincerely be more than happy with what she’s
ready to give, both with her time and affection, but my constant pressure has
been too much, diminishing greatly what she was already willing to set aside
for me. Looking back on everything, I feel so very stupid for getting so
ridiculously crazy. I feel even worse for adding more stress to her already outrageously
hectic life and I’m lucky that she hasn’t run away completely. That she’s let
me stick around at all has given me some hope for the future. I’d like to build
on that to earn my place with her.
Through the magic of Facebook, I’ve become acquainted with
her best friend, a lovely gal in her own right. She’s been great at giving me
advice and perspective on things (though much of it I foolishly ignored).
Chatting recently, we got into how different factors growing up have affected
us, and I related some of those to how I’ve messed up so badly in my attempts
at this courtship. I asked for more guidance to help me to get out of the
massive hole I’ve dug for myself. She was terrific, as usual, eventually
telling me what I already begrudgingly knew: that I should perhaps let go of
any romantic aspirations and focus on being a friend. To go out on a positive
note, and to confirm that I did at least something right, I asked if there were
anything good that was mentioned about me that she could share. It took her a
minute, then she replied: “I'm certain she has said good things of you, but
your somewhat frantic desire to firm a connection is somewhat off putting.”
That stings quite a lot because it is a fair summary and it’s completely true. Bolstering
its potency was her inability to think of anything specific. It would seem that
I made much less of an impression than I’d thought. Maybe I’ve been unrealistic
thinking I ever had a shot.
It hurts. A lot. I’ve been made to feel special by someone I
believe to be unquestionably extraordinary, and now I have to let go of some of
that. It’s painful, too, because I know, absolutely,
positively know in every way
that I can that if we could reset things a bit and give it a go, we’d be good
for each other for however long it would last. I appreciate that things are nuts
with both her obstacles and mine, but if I could manage to come across as
somewhat sensible, and if she could let me in just a little, it'd be enjoyable and
worthwhile for us both. Timing's never been kind to me, either, really, and we’ve
caught each other at especially awkward moments with us both in the middle of significant
transitions. My freaking out over my eyes potentially getting worse has added
to the mess, my nervous energy lingering and bleeding through.
I’ve mucked things up so horribly that I probably don’t even
deserve an opportunity with her, and I’m not sure if I ever did. So now I have
to try to let go of these feelings, already deeper than they should be, and I’m
not sure exactly how. It’s going to be hard when every part of my being tells
me to keep pursuing her, but I must try set that aside. I want her to be a part
of my life, even if it’s just as friends, and I truly hope that I can manage at
least that. We can still be good for each other; it just might have to be
within a different dynamic. Let’s see how it goes. Que sera, sera.
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