i think about who is in my life. who chooses to be. who makes an effort. i don’t do valentines day very well. for years it was a day of anger and resentment that he had chosen to forget, that he ignored it, that i waited patiently all day, sure he would do something, anything, only to realize he wouldn’t and hadn’t. i must have thrown out a solid 10-12 valentine cards over the years. bought and then never given as he failed to make time for me and for us. so rather than fuzzy warm memories, i approach the day with suspicion if i can’t manage to be neutrally neglectful of it, with a tinge of bitter.
i was snippy. already bristling after 2 hours of being up and getting ready for the day with no mention of it. would it be so hard to grab my ass and bend me backwards as i get kissed hard and told how much i was wanted? apparently so. anyway, by the time i finished doing a variety of things and my mood was soured, i came back into the kitchen to see roses and a card he snuck in when i was upstairs. great. so he remembered but wanted to piss me off first? do you know how hard t is to try and shift emotions after years of being neglected? virtually one of the hardest mental shifts you have to make.
i think the last time he bought me flowers was 2? years ago, when i came home form a trip and he knew i was going to be with other women from work. he showed up with flowers and they all oohh’ed and ahhh’ed. they were beautiful but he did it for them to see him give me flowers and not to give me flowers from him. big difference. so i got flowers and a card. clearly, i had already given him a small gift after he woke up…because in part today was a big day for him. he was having surgery which had been postponed from december.
he made an effort and it was welcome. and i also had messages from a few other people. peripherally. long gone loves who always stay in contact with me. to what end? self serving? possibly. maybe i am jaded and don’t believe in love anymore. maybe. like i do and not admit it. i have been emotionally numb for a few years now. i certainly live life but i feel like i am not participating in it in real time. disassociative. arms length to emotional involvement.
the point is. some connections made seem to last. even when they are not routinely maintained or tended. they stretch across time and become more than what you expected them to be yet never become more than what they are. i don’t even know if i could trust them to be more of anything now, than what i have learned them to be. a memory of who i was. a ghost of emotional connection i don’t remember anymore. i’m no longer her. she is no longer here. i am no longer lost in what may be or living in the world of what is. when you look back at the past and through the reflection of mirrors, you seem to lose the connection to the present.
i don’t want to find myself anymore. i am okay being content and lost. simply not risking is the way i need to heal and how i self preserve. i am unwilling to be more, do more, expect more. i can’t. i can’t be broken again anytime soon. and i’m not even pulling back. i simply fell so far i can’t get out yet. and i am not trying. because i don’t care yet.