Wednesday, October 13, 2010
While looking up definitions on urbandictionary.com I decided to type in love and see what I'd find. I was surprised to find this definition mixed in with the overly cheesy and overly cynical. This definition is perfect.
Love to me is so unbelievably complicated. I don’t even know if I truly understand what it is to love someone or to be loved back. Actually, I know I don’t understand. Love is something I yearn for, but it is also something I fear and despise.
Love is something you learn as a child. Or maybe love is something you are born knowing how to do, but if it isn’t nourished, it dies. Maybe this is what happened to me. Maybe my ability to love and be loved died. Perhaps it’s just on life support. I hope it's on life support.
I have such a hard time relating to people, attaching to people--Loving people. Sometimes I cant love even when I think someone is wonderful. I just can’t. Sometimes I love someone too much too fast and I give them too much of myself--before either of us is ready. I scare people away this way, but perhaps that is what I wanted all along.
I don’t trust people who tell me they love me. Perhaps this is because I’ve always believed myself unlovable. When people tell me they love me, my initial reaction is anger and then fear that they want something from me. Love isn’t free.
It is safe to love a dog-- an animal, because they can’t choose to leave me. They need me for their basic survival. Perhaps this is why I have so many animals. It’s safe to love animals. With people it’s different. People are unpredictable. People are selfish. People inflict pain. I love people too, but my love for people is guarded. It’s not so resilient. With people I’m more unsure, more confused--more terrified. The way I show my love for people is by doing things for them. I give them things because I can’t say the words. I labor for them. I buy them things. I give them myself. I give them my time and energy. It’s just who I am. It's just what I do. Sometimes I think this makes people uncomfortable. So--I must be able to love them. Some part of me must feel love for them--somewhere, but for some reason I don’t really have access to these feelings. I try to access them because I desperately want to know what that feeling is like. When I try I become flooded with all kinds of emotions. All of these feelings are too much input for my brain and it shuts back down. Why am I not able to access my emotions? Does this make me a sociopath?