stop giving me choices…

i think i may well have written this or something like it about a dozen times in the last 8 or 9 years.

that may not seem excessive, but when i add to that the fact that it’s running aound in my head pretty much every day, it gets repetitive.

almost everyone i know has found their one, with relative ease it seems. they’re all settled & happy, which is wonderful.
but i’m that desperate woman in her 30’s who’s womb is a time bomb.

and i get it, i’m not the most captivating prospect. i’m difficult. i’m too old & dated too many fuckwits to put up with even the tiniest hint of bullshit.

i’m mental. really, properly mental. if you’re in any doubt scroll back through a few posts.

i’m covered in scars. literally covered in them. that’s not a hot look in anyone’s book. actually, i don’t think that’s really the issue with the scars. it’s what they signify rather than how they look. they’re scary. i get that.

this isn’t a oh no, i’m a pariah, no one loves me thing. i know i’m not repulsive. i can be pretty damn sexy & on my better days i’m a cool person.

that may be part of the problem. i know who i am
and i undeniably know what i want.

try as might, almost, just isn’t good enough.

i have gone out with a fair few lovely men. smart, attractive, funny blah, blah, blah
but
they don’t set my world alight
to be as cliched as fuck, there are no butterflies.

i’m lucky. i’m grateful.
i have extraordinary friends.
a close, loving family.
a bloody roof over my head.
i have a lot.
i know.

i want more.

folk are so supportive. they tell me how fantastic i am. how much i deserve my happy ending. i’m sure you’ve all heard this stuff at some point.
it’s never too late
there’s someone for everyone
you just haven’t met the right person.

of course the glaringly obvious point is, i have.
i have met him.
i’ve known him
&
laughed with him
&
fucked him
&
loved him
for years. for forever, really.

i know he’s the right man.
he’s an integral part of my life. a person who gets me through some really shitty times in his own undemonstrative way.
the only man i could realistically see myself being happy with
the only man who ever made me feel i was in movie love.
the only man who didn’t tire of my weirdness
and
matches me pound for pound with his own variety of odd.

my friend. my lover.
the man i can not have.

there’s that biological clock
&
it’s deafening.
the desire for a child is all encompassing
time is running out
i’ve spent too long being crazy
&
dating the wrong men
&
trying to be brave enough to try again.

there aren’t any years left to waste.
i have to get my life in order
and
do it.

that probably means i’ll be having a baby on my own
i suppose that should be terrifying
it isn’t
i’m not scared in the slighest
raising a child feels inherently right
i can not comprehend of a life in which i am not a mother

he can’t conceive a future in which he is father.

i can’t have both
we talk abstractly about what we’re giving up
if we’d met earlier
if we both weren’t so damaged
how happy we could be together.
if. if. if.
those conversations occupy my mind
sometimes.
they circle my thoughts before i fall asleep.
but
that circle isn’t never ending
i can not have both
that’s were this love story ends.

i’ve made my decision.
i believe it’s the right one
it’s not simple
or
painless
it is unequivocal.

i think i have always held romanitc notions of fate.
it never occured to me that destiny would be so cruel.
that’s life.
you roll your dice
you make your choices.

what a difference a year makes…

last year I met a nice man.
he was attentive, intelligent, funny & well read.
i found him attractive.
perfect, I hear you say.

no

i rejected him in favour or rather difficult man i met around the same time.
the man I picked was selfish & uncompromising.
even in bed.
it did not last.

I
i’ve talked about this with various people.
my therapist, my best friends, my mum & sister
all of whom, agreed that i had a bit of habit of selecting inappropriate men.
i did not disagree.

what I needed to know was why?
further discussion & some introspection brought the answers to the surface.

that nice man was too nice.
i was suspicious of his apparent loveliness,
i didn’t believe that it was real.
surely, his best behaviour would dissipate
&
i’d be left disappointed.
more worryingly, i was not convinced that i deserved this nice man.
i have never been with someone who gives me what i need.
there is always a catch,
a perpetual shortfall.
the idea that i had met someone i could relax & possibly be happy with frightened me
it’s hard for me to think i am entitled to that sort of contentment.

i’m not worthy
and
he was bound to discover that fairly quickly.
how long before my craziness, disability & general not good enoughness was uncovered?
how long before i was rejected?

so, you see,
liking this nice man was just too risky.
it could only end badly.

he could be a fraud
&
i would be disappointed.

he could recognise what a sub-standard person i was
&
i would be rejected.

either way it was too dangerous.
getting close to man who may actually be possible of meeting my desires was too threatening.
it was easier to choose men who never could.
relationships with built in obsolescence could not hurt me.
i always knew it would end
& therefore never become emotionally attached.
i’m sure you can see the problem with that.

Earlier this year, he got in touch.

just to say hi.
we talked for a few weeks.
i remembered how enjoyable conversing with him was.
we decided to meet
&
this time, I am allowing myself to hope that maybe I do deserve this.
perhaps happiness is within my reach.

it’s very early days.
we’re enjoying each other’s company.
who knows what may happen.
the important thing is I am open to the possibilities.

i know you care…

You’ll never read this. You will never know how much I love you. How much I would sacrifice for you will remain unsaid. It doesn’t mean it’s not real. Not saying it out loud won’t prevent me from going to sleep with thoughts of you every night. Even when I’m not alone, my last waking moments are filled with you.

I compare every man I encounter to you. They never meet the grade. I don’t know if you will ever stop being my measuring stick. It’s not because I consider you perfect. I see your faults. You drive me crazy. It doesn’t matter. I see you and you’re what I want.

It’s such a cliché, but I’ve never known anyone who made me feel the way you do. Every time you kiss me is as exciting as the first time. The slightest touch, that stern look, the sound of my name on your lips and I melt. And the sex, oh god, I will miss the sex. I never want you to stop talking. I will always want to know more. I devour your details. You make me feel like the me I used to love. I’m smarter & funnier & kinder & sexier in your company. When your eyes fall on me, I feel real. I feel like I am worth something. I’m not sure that you even know that. I wish I could find the words to tell you.

I hid all my dirty secrets from you, thinking you’d run. You never did. You accepted things you never wanted to and you haven’t held it against me. You know how truly fucked up I am, but you still see the whole picture. You’re there for me in quiet ways. You don’t send flowers or make a fuss. You know when I’m desperate. You know which two strokes of the keyboard can reach me. A genuinely nice man is hard to find, but you are. No matter how hard to try to hide it or shirk it, I know.

I’m pretty sure you see right through me & you’re not half as opaque as you believe you are. I could be happy with you. You don’t want to admit that you need anyone at all, but I’m almost certain you could be happy with me too. I don’t want anything much from you. All I’d need is for you to keep being odd & charming & difficult & honest. I’d do everything within my power not to hurt you. I’d never ask you to be anyone, but who you are. I don’t need you to slog away in a job that makes you miserable. Do whatever you like. I don’t want your money. I’d never ask you to take care of me in that way. I’m not that woman. You know that.

I know how futile this is. I am aware that none of this matters because there’s one obstacle we could never overcome. You do not want to be a father. Playing happy families is not for you. Sadly, if there’s one thing I want more than you, it’s a child. My heart pines for you, but every cell in my body aches for baby. It’s not your fault. You’ve never deceived me or given me false hope. I had oh so many opportunities to walk away.

I’ve tried. I really put myself out there. I’ve been on so many dates. Some of those were really cool guys. Men I saw again & tried to forge a relationship with. A couple of times I even started to consider being over you. It never lasted. Never worked. They’re never a match for you. I hold onto the hope that someone will sweep me off my feet & I will forget all about you. I wish he would hurry up because I can’t stop loving you on my own. My attempts have universally failed. At least part of me wishes for the mystical Mr right. The bigger part just drips in sadness at the thought of not being in love you. I’m still not ready to write you out of my happyily ever after.

If I can’t have you, I still want you to be happy. I want you to be loved by someone who can give you the life I can’t. I know you’ll meet someone. There is no way for me to prepare for that. It will tear me in two, but we can’t continue like this forever.

Just don’t let her shrink you. Don’t keep doing things that make you unhappy to please someone else. Don’t conform to her tastes. Please don’t let a woman tame you again. You don’t belong in a tight little box. That’s not love. You have edge. Always keep your edge.

I will never tell you that you are the love of my life. I will most likely never know exactly how you feel about me. That’s probably for the best because there is nothing you could say that would make it better. I know you care. That is enough.

conversations with the man

me – do you make everyone work this hard

the man – no. just you

me – why so hard on me ?

the man – you are special

me – in what way special ?

the man – like a special person

 

i cried

and

then i analysed every syllable

 

i don’t fully understand why it is so difficult for him to express his feelings

nor

do i understand why i have been involved with someone who starves me of this validation

for so long

i do need to hear that i am valued

loved

needed

wanted

something !

i need to hear whatever it is he feels about me.

 

and,yet i

” hang in there”

a phrase he uses often

so entice me to wait for any manner of things

 

now,

let me assure you

i am not a patient person

but

for him i wait

 

i have a ten minute rule

never let a man keep you waiting longer

it flew out the window the second i met the man

i’d cool my heels all week for him

 

i am pathetically grateful

for these morsels

of affection.

i crave evidence of my significance

 

i am so frustrated

with

both

of us

why can’t we just put an end to this ?

　

　

　

maybe you’ll run ….

withdrawal has taken approximately

 32 hours

i’m doing that crazy girl thing

of

going over everything he said

and

searching for significance

the bit that is really sticking

is

“i wish i had met you before my wife”

what does that mean ?

(don’t worry, he’s divorced)

i didn’t think that i still mattered

to him

it was easier to move on when i

thought

he didn’t want me

there was no going back

nothing to cling to

now, i know

i can still make him do that smile

and

fling his arm across his head in bed

i want to call him

and

ask him what that meant

but

that’s just insane

right ?

is he thinking about me

right now ?

does he wish i with him

is he fighting the urge to call me

how do i stop

when it’s so good ?

thank you for the days……

we’re losing us
and
it makes me very sad

i accepted that we
weren’t
to be
a long time ago,
but
i thought we could still be us

we had something really special
what
a
cliche

it’s true
we made each other feel extraordinary
we felt lucky
we felt edgy
we felt so very clever

at least
i did
no
i know you did too

i know those moment
were
real

you could never have faked
those smiles
or those tender words
you’re not a man given
to
soppy declarations
but
your
well considered
esotoric
compliments
made me fly

i called you odd
you called me weird
&
it felt better than any beautiful
or funny
or sexy
or smart
anyone else had ever bestowed on me

we fitted together like lego
snug
secure
a platform to build on

i suppose that is the problem
when you stop building
you lose the momentum
&
the relationship is stunted

we still talk
we still care
but
the fizz is missing

i think of you twewnty time a day,
but
i stop myself from texting
i no longer stockpile
your
future
treats

i am no longer confident that
i will be
the
one
treating you

i love you
we were never very good at saying that
but
it’s true

i don’t usually have problems with it
but i always knew it scared you
that’s fine
we had
what we had
i don’t need the words
or
for that
matter
the feeling

if you didn’t love me
fine
you’re still
the
best
man
i ever had

we’re losing us
but
i don’t think we need to
if we can just get through this bit
the tricky
not sure where the boundaries are
dreading the other finding someone
else
who makes them swoon
stage
i know, we can make it

we can remake us
into something stronger
something solid
and
safe
and
lovely

we can be friends.

when your heart’s on fire, smoke gets in your eyes….

the bloom is off the rose.

 i am becoming less interesting

 desirable

 special.

 you no longer need me.

 i wish i had learnt that trick first

 

 perhaps i could bear not having you

 if i didn’t have to face your growing indifference

 

 i suspect that your face no longer brightens

 when

 i send your happy friday.

 if you dreamt (i still don’t believe you don’t),

 it wouldn’t be about me.

you don’t hope to find me standing outside sainsbury’s

 the twinge when you order a cocktail is gone

 

 i wish i could follow your lead 

 stop searching for your face

 and

 buying  little things i know you’ll like

 

 i want to cease wanting you quite so much

 i really need it to stop hurting

 i’d love to keep you

but

 i don’t think you’re the type to be kept.

i always knew, i’d lose you….

 

i have accepted that  i can’t have him

 

my head knows that it would never work

 

but

 

my heart wants him

 

it wants to tell him every time i see a hedgehog

 

or hear something ridiculous.

 

longs to have dinner with him

 

& shoosh his complaints that i eat like a mouse.

 

aches for frenzied drunken sex

 

followed by random chat on his impossibly large sofa.

 

it wants these

 

&

 

a million other things.

 

i can’t forget the angry face he makes when he cums

 

or the way he carries his  man bag.

 

i don’t want to erase the memories that

 

still

 

make my stomach flip.

 

the stupid part

 

is

 

i always knew he’d break my heart.

 

even when i was deliriously happy,

 

i was aware that it could never last.

 

i met a man who captivated me enough to break down all my barriers

 

i knew from the very beginning that i couldn’t keep him,

 

but

 

i wanted to

 

oh,

 

how i wanted to.

never mind how i find someone like you….

having finally accepted that i cannot have the man,

i am dating.

i find it very confusing.

i compare everyone to him

&

no one measures up.

there is nothing really wrong with the men i have rejected.

there is just no spark,

no butterflies,

no zing.

i want to fast forward this trying people on for size stage.

i want to just sip someone on & be comfortable.

i was always comfortable with him.

we never had awkward moments

never ran out of things to say.

i never once looked at him & questioned my desire.

i’ll keep looking.

the man i want to marry is out there.

i just have to track him down.

wish me luck.