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Losing at Love

May 12, 2016

It is an unexplainable pain to love someone you can never have. I have felt this pain the majority of my adult life. Maybe it is because I chase after men that I subconsciously know are unobtainable, maybe I chose those men because I ultimately know what the out come will be. I know I will not actually get too involved. I know at the end of this, we will be over and my love will carry on for a while, which feels like an eternity, but I won’t have to plan on ever making a home or a life with you. I know I won’t actually have to make room for you in my life and I know that you do not love me. When I am not falling madly in love with the wrong guy I am simply filling my loneliness with meaningless encounters that leave me feeling less then whole. This is the un-reputable version of me.

You are one of those guys. One that I have told myself, time after time, not to love so deeply. Yet, here I am like a fool. You made it pretty clear. There is no grey area. We are friends. I will manage to keep my emotions at bay, or at least hidden enough you will never again question whether or not I can handle our friendship. All of this because I do, I love our friendship, you are important to me. However that doesn’t mean I can control the fact that I love how you make me laugh, or how I love when you call, but hate when you text. Or how I love how you always reassure me, life will be okay, I can make it through this situation, mostly unscathed. I know that keeping myself so close to you is a torture unlike anything, anyone should ever endure, but I cannot leave I cannot quit. I am like an addict in that sense, after you have crippled my senses I still want you, maybe even more now.

You know me. The good the bad, the ugly. I am not scared when I am with you. Mr. Anxiety actually takes his vacation when I am near you. Now sitting in front of a computer Mr. Anxiety is furious. He knows I don’t like my own heart and I feel incredibly guilty for sharing my pain. He knows that I am stupid to repeatedly love the “wrong guy” and he turns my stomach into a rock hard knot. My breathing is rigid. I am so confused. I want to clean myself of these emotions, with a scolding hot shower. Though  I cannot bear the thought of not wanting you. Mr. Anxiety will certainly heighten my awareness of this emptiness. He is going to make me crazy with thoughts of inadequacy, like I am some undesirable shelter pet, that just before I am euthanized by the unethical and quite hypocritical human race, he will remind me, this is what I wanted. I chewed on the furniture, by not saying anything. I peed on the floor, by not telling you that if you couldn’t love me back we shouldn’t be such close friends. I ran away and got picked up by the dog catcher, by letting my emotions run amuck in my own head. I am my own worst enemy. Mr. Anxiety knows that better then I do. I will repeatedly find myself here, with this lack of connection attached to a plethora of emotions. This is my ugly cycle.  I own it.


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One Comment
  1. Hmmmmm. Sounds all too familiar to my own crazy thoughts. Hmmmmm
    Dare I say this? Dare I ask whom?
    Dare I suggest, no not my place.

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