Tag: connection

Let’s chill

It’s 2005. Inside the condo I was leasing in Southern California then.

There’s someone sitting on my couch across the room from me. And she’s waiting expectantly. I dim the lights in the room and start over with a sly smirk.

Our eyes lock again.

Even though we’d only been out a few times, we both knew the chemistry that was there. And that now was the time to start exploring that connection some more.

As the last step to set the scene, I turn on the music mix that I’d put together earlier that day. “Let’s Chill” (by Guy) starts playing. And once its intro shifts into a sultry beat, you can see that instant that her mind registers approval of the choice (as she’s introduced to my love of ’90s R&B).

Yes, it sounds like a scene scripted for a movie. But sometimes they actually happen that naturally in real life. And for us, it was that night.

But it wasn’t long before I never saw her again.

What went wrong? Nothing specific. That night or otherwise. I just never took the budding relationship any further. Until recently, I always attributed distancing myself to how she was way too much of a nurturer (rather than there being a balance of what both of us would want from life, and each other). Which I knew would never work for me.

And that very well may be true. But the more I think about it, the more I wonder: was it really? Or was I doing the thing that emotionally unavailable people can be best at: making sure that you find a reason to keep anyone and everyone from getting serious with you, no matter what.

Despite how self-aware I am, this is a rare time where I’m simply not sure of an answer. Maybe it’s because it was a combination of both. Or maybe cause it’ll never be quite clear enough to know for sure.

But one thing’s for sure: with how I am (and was), there was little doubt about the lifelong solitary path that I’d end up taking. And if I’d known how certain that was at the time, I never would’ve let her get the least bit attached to begin with.

So yep, romance may be like the movies sometimes. But the happily ever after endings? Much more elusive.

Another very short story: “Closing in”

Yep, this one is also based on personal experiences. But from a different perspective this time:

——————————————————–

She sits up in the bed and calls out into the dark room. Eyes glazed over, and mind in that unsure state between consciousness and sleep.

They’re after her again.

Not long before, she had settled in next to him for the night. The guy who, in some ways, she barely knew. But in other ways, who she knew as well as anyone. With her mind and body satisfied and content, she wanted to just enjoy the few hours they had left together for now.

Her endless night demons wouldn’t allow it.

The next step might be a long sleepwalking trek. Destination unknown, but escape necessary. She really hoped to avoid that happening in front of him, but it’s out of her control.

A few minutes pass. Though it seems much longer to her. This time, the terrors have mercy. The tension in her body slowly releases.

As her head finds its way back to the pillow, her mind is still in a suspended state. But she’s aware enough to sense him there, and she entangles her naked body completely with his. The sort of total relaxation that one only submits to with a person they’re completely powerless over.

She’s used to that helpless feeling. With how some men have treated her in the past, she didn’t have any choice. But this time, it’s completely different. Because it’s with someone who she knows won’t hurt her.

And she’s still not sure how to process that. It feels so right, yet so unusual at the same time. But at the moment, all that matters is that she’s safe.

Can that last? Despite her wishes, it won’t happen. It feels like the demons will always be back. The next time she closes her eyes, she’ll feel their relentless presence again.

Closing in.

“Going down the only road I’ve ever known…”

I’ve had about a week and a half now to reflect on my recent get together with someone I’m really close to (reference the entry here from then). But while meeting up with her again went as well as it could have, the days since have reaffirmed what I already expected:

My emotional capability to desire something serious with someone is still practically non-existent. If not entirely.

The only reason there’s even any doubt (about that capability) is that despite the mutual spark and connection with her, it’s likely that we’re way too different for both of us to genuinely enjoy a regular life with each other. When it comes to us, that strong “opposites attract” vibe may not be enough. So you could argue that my feeling distanced (in this spot) has just as much to do with those differences with her.

Thing is though: regardless of how ideal any match might be for me, it’s still doubtful that I could care enough to want it. Almost impossible for me to imagine a situation where I’d rather share my life than be on my own.

You might wonder if it hurts to feel that way. The answer is that it can, but not for the reason you might think:

Because it’s not the actual being alone that hurts. What DOES is the reality that I’m too emotionally removed and disinterested to enjoy the good things that come from not just a fulfilling relationship, but from life in general. When I listen to sad songs or sultry r&b or see other people living these experiences, it hurts to be reminded of how empty your life is (especially since you feel too emotionally trapped to ever change it).

Last night I was talking to a close friend about all this. She is just as ill-equipped to be in a relationship as I am, though some of the reasons for it are totally different than mine. But at least it allows us to bond with someone who’s in the same boat.

We joke about sitting on a porch someday in old people rocking chairs. All our family long gone and no SO or kids in our lives. Reminiscing about how we predicted such an outcome 30 years prior.

Cause, well: to quote something from the ’90s for once (never fear, my ’80s obsession is still intact):

“We can’t run from who we are. Our destiny chooses us”