Reflecting on love

plane words

Photo was taken in the Sitka National Historical Park Museum. A wood carving. The figure has a face on both sides of his head. The mirror makes it so you can see both sides. Sort of like Quirrell in Harry Potter. Hopefully I don’t seem like two different people when viewed from different angles. hmmm

The rest of this was written on the plane trip from Seattle to Sitka. I had a row to myself. Well, really, two rows. The plane was pretty empty.

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There are people I instantly care for. I want the best for them instantly. Maybe it’s a kindness in the way they smile or a look in their eyes. It’s hard to say. I do know I generally start by giving folks the benefit of the doubt… and if they act in a way that I feel is disrespectful or mean to someone else they’re off my list. Poof. Gone. Usually, that is. As with many things there are exceptions.

Katie proved to be an exception in many ways. I was devoted to her at the first email, more fully devoted at the first phone call and perhaps already completely devoted at the first meeting. Complete and utter and unjudgemental love that over-rode everything. Things I held sacred previously were out the window. Cigarettes? Fine… Ultimatums that burned bridges with businesses, friends, acquaintances, family, almost anything… I’ll get by. I’ll go along with the ultimatums. I’ll do what I have to to maintain the devotion. Those breaches were interposed with moments of extreme kindness and generosity and founts of wisdom that frankly, blew me away. It was a roller coaster ride and for someone like me, that has always lived a life of relative stability and evenness, a roller coaster can be a welcome thing. She said I kept her grounded. She was my roller coaster to the end and I did feel a range of emotions that went well beyond anything I was even aware of before. Some of it was, sadly, damaging to my own well being and sense of self. I do not know that I would be open to that kind of ride again. I know I have walls now. I can sense them like the hedges on the roads in Shropshire. They’re keeping me steady and away from the wild fields. I do see stiles in the hedge gaps that might lead me away but I am, honestly, afraid.

I still love Nicolle. She left me in a most unharmonious way and it hurt but that was her decision. My decision was to love her and I never decided to take that away. I was frustrated at what felt like was a lost, wasted, 5 years when our marriage ended. How can this be? I thought my life was settled… I enjoy being devoted and I was. I was also immature in many ways. I am sure I did things that pushed her away without knowing it. I, to this day, have moments of obliviousness, perhaps due to a self center, self preservation mentality. I can miss signals that someone is in distress, or needs a hug, or just needs me to listen… I am getting better though. Sometimes it takes me a while. I will hear what someone says – but it just comes in one ear and sits there in my head. I won’t listen to it for an hour or two when I replay it in my mind. Then I will be like, “OH! That was significant!” and I can follow up, or ask questions, or express concern. But back to Nicolle – sure I still love her and want the best for her but I do not want to be with her. That is done.

I still love E.D. I don’t know where she is – or even if she is. And honestly, she was almost as cruel as Nicolle in her parting. She traveled thousands of miles to be with me, spend time with me, be romantic with me… I thought she was it. And then one day said, “I’m leaving for Turkey tomorrow”. That was it. Never saw her again. But she is still the first, the one that set in my heart what it means to love in that romantic fashion. The one that I first shared real intimacy. That’s not something that can be taken away. I did track her down through Facebook many years ago. Last I heard she’s still in Turkey and married. I haven’t heard from her for a few years now. She could be anywhere.

Those were the major players. The romances. But love is more than romance. More than physical intimacy. Society kind of makes it weird… the whole “I said I love you and she didn’t say it back” kind of problem. But that’s sort of silly in my mind. If you love someone, you love them. If you want to tell them, tell them. Perhaps it will leave you emotionally vulnerable. Maybe, in a worst case scenario, they’ll say straight out back to you that they don’t love you. That would suck, for sure. But maybe they don’t share the same view of the world and what love means. It doesn’t require a response or an action. Hopefully it will be accepted for what it is. Just give it.

I don’t say I love you enough.

It’s scary. I worry about the connotations. What will it come across as meaning? What if it’s misinterpreted and I scare them away from my life? What if its taken as some kind of ultimatum toward romance? Sigh. I don’t do ultimatums. Why am I worried?

When I was helping TD in Shropshire with the fencing he would continually ask me if I really still wanted to help. He’d remind me that I didn’t have to do it. I had to assure him that I would say I needed to stop when I needed to stop. I’m not bashful about my own needs when it comes down to it, but rarely do I get to the point that I’m no longer enjoying the ride. Especially if it’s with someone I care about. I really do enjoy being helpful. Being kind. Making life a little easier for someone else. In some ways it’s like being an uncle or teacher. As an uncle you get to enjoy your siblings kids, but you get to give them back at the end of the day. Helping with TDs fence was similar… I just helped and got to do things but ultimately it’s his fence. The design is his. He’ll have to deal with it going forward.

I don’t say I love you enough.

What if it comes across too strong and feels scary? What if they step away and the status quo is destroyed? That’s hard. Like measuring the weight of atomic particles. In the process of measuring, you might change the thing you’re measuring. It feels treacherous, but is it really?

If you are reading this, there is a very good chance I actually love you. My reader list is not too large. Mostly it is folks that know me. Most of you have had an impact on my life. I thank you. I love you and want the best for you. I know you have challenges, as we all do. Some of those challenges are visible and others are hidden. Even for me, I have challenges I don’t completely share here.

I wonder if I need counseling to get past a few things… some I’ve hinted at above. Some are deep within me and have never been shared. They are rooted either in childhood or in certain aspects of my deepest relationships or just things that have taken shape in my mind in my 54 years. Sigh.

There were many years when I could tell and be anything with Katie… I do miss the rawness, the feeling of being completely naked and exposed with no fear of judgment or repercussion. Unfortunately things happen and walls can form if they’re not addressed properly. There is great value in forgiveness. In accepting. But sometimes those two valuable things are not given. Even to those we love. Those we love will make mistakes. We all know this. We all make mistakes. Forgiveness and acceptance are key. But so is admission of fault. It takes both, I think, to move on properly. And that means honesty to oneself and to others. And that means empathy. And that means a reasonable view on what’s important and what isn’t... to prevent those walls from growing. A lot of what we freak out about… is it really that important?

And sometimes silence can be just as damaging. I do not say I love you enough. I do not say I forgive you enough. I do not say I accept you enough.

If you have ever received a hug from me… I love you in some way, shape or form. I hold you dear. I care about you. I want the best for you. Yup. And I like to hug people. Sometimes, if I get a good long hug, I imagine a sharing of life force. I’ll try to wrap my aura around them and I will feel for theirs. Sometimes there is a connection and it is fabulous. And mostly, I like it when people hug me. I do occasionally accept a cringy hug… Sometimes there’s not much else you can do.

My mind is such that I imagine a lot of things. I am on many paths at once… seeking. Thinking about what might be in the future. Right now, I am worried. I am… in many ways, very alone. I am getting older. And while I am tolerant of a wide range of people, I am generally picky about who I actually want to be with and around. Picky about who I will pursue time with. But I also don’t want to impose myself on other people’s lives. I don’t want to force them to take me in. Usually, if I respect and love someone it is largely because I feel they are well grounded in their processes. They have their priorities straight. They seem to get it. They are giving and give of themselves to many people. The very act of my intruding would potentially mess that up. Sigh. I want it to be simple. But who else out there is as isolated as I am with an open potential to be someone else’s top priority. Do I even want to be someone else’s top priority? I think I do… and then I know I don’t. But I am insecure. Emotionally, I want that someone to be thinking about me constantly… I want to know that they will not abandon me. I do feel abandoned and I know why. I spelled out some of it above… but logically I want to be pretty low on their priority list. I want them to pursue their own things, grow in their own ways, give of themselves in many ways to many people, maintain the life they’ve already established. So where do I find that balance? Can I lower my walls and embrace the future the way I want to? Can I trust and not have jealous thoughts or fear of abandonment or change appear out of nowhere? Out of silence? Can I appreciate the moments for the moments and let the future take care of itself? I don’t know. I worry I can’t. And that very worry makes me concerned that I will either do something I will regret out of fear … or not do something I should do out of fear of ruining what already exists. I really don’t know. It is messing with my instincts and bringing out the self centered portion of my being that I don’t really like. So, do I need counseling? Perhaps. Perhaps you, dear reader, are a part of my counseling.

I do not say I love you enough. I love you.