But I've only managed to take about an hour's nap all night, and I could feel myself tossing and turning the whole time. I dreamed about things which disturbed me. Mostly someone else's unhappiness, but it bothered me so much it was like I was feeling it all myself.
I feel jittery, like I've had two cups of coffee and I'll never sleep again. If I do sleep at this point, it will ruin the rest of my day and screw with my ability to sleep tonight.
Part of me says it was that last conversation which has me worrying. It's almost as if I don't *want* to feel anything anymore, and something inside me is forcing me to, dredging up old memories that are inextricably linked to a part of me I had hoped was dead. Dead would be quieter, easier, and for the most part, it would insulate me from completely losing myself again.
Since mid-June I wanted it to be dead and gone, because I was hurting so much I couldn't see past my pain. It helped to put on a layer of ice, because it numbed and protected me somewhat from that person who kept tearing at me, year after year, telling me to be patient, playing with my heart repeatedly, and then turning to stone whenever he had me completely taken in, once again.
What kind of person uses a friend of fifteen years for a one night stand and then abandons them without an explanation? I'm still shaken on that account. The only thing I'm certain of at this point is that I didn't do the wrong thing. He acted, I reacted. He was the aggressor, and looking back, it makes things look like no more than an act of aggression, like a dog that only wants his bone when there's a chance someone else might want it. He gnaws it for a while and forgets it quickly when a flashy new squeaky toy comes into his life.
All I did was give my love, and I've learned that it was the wrong thing to do. I just wish I had known that it was all a game to him in the first place. I've given up on truly trying to understand why it happened. It seems like it was all about his ego now, though there is probably a broken person underneath that veneer I mistook for warmth. Maybe if he knew that I understand how to gently treat broken people, he wouldn't have been afraid of my ulterior motive. I'm always surprised to find myself misperceived as scary, when I've been the fearful one all along.
*Gasp!* Shall I confess my motive? I wasn't looking for money -- he's been unemployed for a while now. I have a decently paying job of my own and have no trouble making ends meet. I just wanted him to love me as I loved him. Oh, but more than one man has told me to never tell a man you love him, because that's weak and they don't want to hear it. Really? Then what's the point of even spending time with them unless you're using them? Yuck. I don't want to be that person.
So there you have it. My secret motivation was love. And it turns out, that's the one thing he didn't value. And he's not the first in my life to be that way. Therefore, I am frosty. I might never thaw again.
Cupid, you and I have some talking to do, being my patron god and all. You have definitely lost your touch, cherub boy. ...Cupid is just cynical and bitter. I understand why.
Does the realization that you've underestimated someone ever come with joy, rather than dread? Finding out that there's more under the surface that you just didn't know about is so scary, it's hard to see it in a positive light. For example, I've always been attracted to intelligent men, and while realizing someone is much smarter than you knew, it still comes with a bit of "Whoa now, please don't play head games with me." There should be a warning sign: Here There Be Dragons. Enter At Your Own Peril, Brave Stranger!
Only I don't feel so brave. I've opened Pandora's Box before, and been crushed by what came out. Hope is struggling along with her broken wings, and I'm wary. At least this time I've learned some things about human nature, though that knowledge has kept me watching from the sidelines.