A few thoughts

I am dreadfully unhappy at the moment and life is one long never-ending cycle of drudgery.

On the other hand, I love the fragments of beauty that I manage to find amidst the wreckage that I exist in.  I adore the positive connections I make, however tiny, however fleeting, with nice people.

I am unbearably lonely at times.  I am a lover.  My heart is too big to cope without someone to love.  It seems to fill to bursting with the desire to care for, to love and to nurture another.  Without that, I feel like I am not able to fully be myself.

On the other hand, I am enjoying having alone time.  I love the lack of responsibility or obligation to another person.  I like that my time is my own and I can fill it with whatever activity (or lack of it) that I please.  I love the unending possibilities for romance, for meeting someone.  The potential for feeling electricity with someone who I click with on first meeting.

I miss lots of past loves.  I don’t even know for sure what it is about them that I miss.  Maybe my favourite parts of each of them, that if combined might just possibly make someone with the capacity to love me in the way that I need.  Maybe what I miss most is the parts of me that they took with them when they left.  The parts of me that died or disappeared during the heartache that ensued when the relationships fell apart.  The parts of me that were young, naive, hopeful and open, rather than the aged, cynical, pessimistic and guarded parts they have become.  I miss feeling happy.  I miss feeling.

A friend I was fucking recently would sometimes get weirdly territorial when I stayed over (or even when I was just there for the evening) and act like a real dickhead towards me.  When I later tried to explain how it made me feel, he mockingly referred to me as a “delicate flower.”  I hung up in anger and later told him I didn’t need his patronising shit when he couldn’t even cope with having someone around for a few hours.  He told me he “heard” me.  I haven’t contacted him since. But he hit the crux of my problem.

An old sort-of boyfriend who in some ways never really was (who I often feel I was meant to end up with, but who also gave me my abandonment issues) once told me that he had finally accepted that he was an incredibly emotional person and that it wasn’t a bad thing.  It was how God made him and he was that way for a purpose.  But it also meant that he had to be protective of his heart, because that openness and emotional sensitivity left him vulnerable to immense heartache.  He could see the same qualities in me, too (the heartache he then caused me is deliciously ironic of course).  I’ve since learned to be more accepting of my emotional and sensitive nature and see it as a strength of sorts.  But not everyone can deal with the love that a huge heart has to give. And I am still dealing with the fallout of failed relationships that left my heart empty because the other person would willingly take without knowing how to give back.

I am on the verge of quitting or losing my job.  I have debts that I can barely pay while getting paid, so being unemployed is not a viable financial option.  We are in the process of being evicted from our home.  We may be able to stay, but it’s really in God’s hands.  Legally I don’t think we have much of a claim to do so.  My depression is consuming my life and existing is such a struggle at times that I often wonder how much fight I have left in me.  I feel directionless and empty, like fog lingering stagnant in one place, while the world goes on around, about and through me.  But weirdly, as I write this, I feel the tiniest glimmer of hope, just enough to hang on until the tomorrow I have been delaying facing.

Since my Dad passed away, I’ve realised more acutely that I inherited my soft heart from him.  He wasn’t overly emotional, at least not explicitly.  But he had the kindest heart of anyone I know.  And when he died, all anyone said about him was that he was a genuine, nice and truly lovely man.  And I think that’s a pretty cool legacy.

My kindness is not weakness.  My heart is strong.

Do you hear me?  My heart is STRONG.