He has been pouring on the affection like a teenager in love. He woos me with comments of my beauty and how lucky he is to have me… I want this affection, I want this kind of love, but I’m straining my neck to look the other way. I am frustrated with my heart and mind and body. It’s like they are all frenemies, pretending to like eachother. I want to play and have fun and he takes it as a cue that I want sex. I do, but my mind knows what my body is looking for, and it’s not there. He knows me like his own hand, so I respond and curse my enjoyment as it betrays what I desire. How foolish is that? Perhaps I am the one who is addicted. Perhaps my mind is wandering, looking for greener pastures where there are none…
Oh but there are…. I have heard stories. They are not fairy tales or overinflated ideals, they are honest words of freedom. Freedom to be independent, to be yourself, because no one else needs you to be anything else but who you really are, to be awake to brand new possiblities where once were closed doors and to be loved as you are.
He has his heart on his sleeve for the woman who says yes to everything. He woos the woman who will give him sex and clean the house without complaining. He adores the woman who asks little from him yet does not admire the one who says no. He cannot comprehend the woman who stands up for herself or her children. He tries and sometimes he is successful, but usually he is too worn down to try, so he stands there angry in his defeat.I am the woman who is afraid to say no, hurting his feelings is so hard for me but then again I hurt him each day I pull further away without some sort of explanation. But like a rubber band, I snap back to reassure him that all is good in the world because the I’m so afraid to rock the boat.
I inhale the scent of him and wish it filled my lungs with desire and passion, but it instead fills me with angst and compassion. Here is someone who is my best friend in many aspects, lying next to me and I question how can I dismantle this part of us yet still remain connected. We get along so well, but it’s almost too mellow and complacent. I fear we hold each other back much more than we lift each other up. He is tethered to me by his love and need, while I hold on only because it would hurt so much more to let go. I have lost my passion. I have lost my desire to be wanted in such a way. His comments of adoration make me feel desired, but they do not fill me up. They feel like beautiful empty vessels that hold nothing but his picture of who he wants me to be, and I am no longer that person.
Perhaps we could work it out. Perhaps he could see the new me. He is already getting glimpses of her now. I think I make him nervous when I decide to be who I am and ask for forgiveness rather than permission. He is not confident in himself or me, but that has been on him since day one. I can no longer hold my life back to make someone else happy. It is ok to say NO. It is ok to do what you need to do, even if it might upset someone else. Perhaps getting mad and angry would wake us up to some unforseen next step. Who knows. I’m not about to give up on his love, but I am not about to give up on my authentic self either, even if that means we move on as just friends.
Man, if I were reading my blog, I would be like “Shit, or get off the pot lady.” But you see it is not so simple, or perhaps it would be, if I knew how to let myself go. I know that honoring who you are inside is the only true way to live happily, but sometimes there other things that make you feel safe, like a constant companion, bearable or not. As a good friend said to me, ultimately I cannot worry about his happiness, I have to worry about my own.