Fortress of Solitude


I think Superman was on to something.

Today, I feel that maybe it’s a bad idea for me to be dating anyone. After recently moving away from so much hurt, it’s still so close to the surface, and I can feel my old sensitivities being irritated all the time. For four years, I was in hot pursuit. I was adoring, attentive, I lavished love, and support, and so much care, and in turn spent much of my time waiting, and yearning, and wanting. I felt invisible, unwanted, unattractive, and largely unhappy. Every aspect of our relationship was on his terms so much of the time; when we went out, when we behaved like a couple, when we had sex. I felt I was always begging him to put down his work, or his emotional walls and live in the world with me. Mostly I felt really, really lonely which is a very strange way to feel when you are living with someone. I couldn’t wait or want anymore, and so that was it.
If I’m going to put my toes in the water of love right now it has to be very sweet, and perhaps I just need too much…maybe that water is just too deep while I still feel like a sinker.
When I love, that person becomes the centre of the universe for me. Everything in my life takes a backseat, and I think I’m realizing now that this is exactly what I’ve been doing wrong. Fine. I can get my head around that.
But you know, if I’m going to feel like loving you, I want your time, and your attention. I want to really be adored this time. I’m good for it. I’ll give it back, I swear, but I just don’t want to ever have to fight for it again. I just can’t do it.
If I’m going to plant a seed, it needs to be watered and fed this time. I can’t make something grow in a drought. I tried to make that happen. It’s a choking, tragic exercise in horticulture.
So, here’s what I’m going to do…
My crazy apartment will slowly become my fortress of solitude. I will build it full of the wisdom of my ancestors, treasured memories from my home planet, beautiful light-catching objects, and clean, crisp lines. Every now and again I may fly in a Lois Lane, to catch a glimpse of what my innermost world looks like, but I will accept and understand with a super-sized heart like this, a normal relationship might not be in the stars.

Comments

comments

Follow:
Share:

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *