Managing The Heart
I’m loathe to post much here of late. This isn’t because I don’t have events occurring in my life, but because many of them are so personal that I need to keep those events guarded. Work has been manageable; my personal life, not so much. It’s very hard to talk about these things as a blogger at times, not because I couldn’t type endlessly, but because I need to be conscious of who reads what I write. Perhaps I need a secret blog, but maintaining one would feel like an odd compromise. One one hand, I fear what the creeps of the Internet could do with the information I type here; and on the other, I despise that I would have to erect walls out of necessity. I like the idea that I could communicate the innermost thoughts of my heart and soul, and have them be meaningful, without worry of emotional, professional, or social repercussions. Sadly, a reality like that doesn’t exist. Not in this virtual universe, anyway.
But those fears themselves point directly to my very soul, and all the things I dislike about owning that soul. At the heart of all recent sorrow is my wish to be cherished, nurtured, desired, and protected. When I look at it as an outsider, these needs feel very childlike, and perhaps they are. But they are at my core, for better or for worse, and unfortunately, they drive me to search for that special someone to share life with. Not long ago, I thought I found that person. I shared my hopes and dreams, my sorrows and my joys, and I heard something I think most of us long to hear, consciously or not: “I love you. You are my everything. I want to spend my life with you.”
Such wonderful words when they are genuine, and such hurtful ones when they aren’t. And as it turns out, they weren’t, and were retracted less than a day later. Imagine climbing the highest peak, only to fall into an unfathomable valley within moments of each other. My heart made that fall, and it has yet to recover. There are days, still, where the idea of healing feels remote, if not impossible. Most days, the hurt is just as strong as the day it happened.
It’s ironic that the strong desire to love and be loved in return so often leads down a road more lonely than others. I’ve alienated several people that were important to me because my thoughts were so focused on finding that someone at the expense of friendships and other possibilities. What a contradiction I’ve become: I look for something that is better to let come naturally, while I push that which is real aside to make room for simple possibilities. And yet while I learn from the mistakes, I can’t seem to change, in spite of it all.
So perhaps this entry will bring catharsis, or be a catalyst for change. Emotionally, I am a highly expressive person. I think for people like me, expressions of sorrow are our attempts to relieve our hurts and instigate personal change and growth. At least that is what I believe for myself–and I believe that I can only heal if I communicate that pain. I suppose in this life, the pain of love lost, and the fear of being alone, are universal. Perhaps even insignificant. But I know that I feel these things so much more intensely than most do, just as I feel most things more intensely than others do. This may never change–but I sincerely hope that I can be more happy with myself as a lone soul, rather than be so conscious that it isn’t shared with another.
Nevertheless, and against all odds, I hope that at some point, another wonderful individual joins me on my path. And I pray that whatever happens, that I do not hurt more than I already have, and that I bring joy to those whose lives I cross.