Here is what I am learning about myself; my intuition is never, ever wrong.
If there is something about a person that is making me uneasy, all I need to do is close my eyes and I can hear things. I can hear little snippets of the truth, their truth. Their emotional truth. It’s hard to describe, because it comes in impressions. They are quick flashes. Thoughts that occur to me suddenly, but on a deep resonant level I know they are truth.
So how do I get into trouble?
Reflecting on the last eleven months of my life, I can see how my eyes and ears and gut have guided me away from bad situations over, and over. After that last one, that really bad one, we’ll never be asleep that way again. The challenge remains the same, however.
Sometimes we just can’t believe it is true.
It’s common to ask questions when a deep, secret voice in your heart says things like:
“He feels like this was a big mistake, and now he’s trapped and will resent you for this if you stay.”
“She has kissed him and is currently trying to sleep with him behind your back. This will happen, and you will never really know.”
“She is intimidated by you, and afraid of your vibrancy, so she needs you to be out of her environment.”
“He will always love her, and will forever keep her in the picture, as well as try to keep you under his thumb because he likes this feeling of power.”
“He was lying, and this lie has resulted in the same tragedy before.”
“You are one of many who he has played this game with, and it’s most certainly a game to him.”
“He genuinely likes you, but will always be looking at the greener grass, and will never be content.”
“He believes he could love you, but he knows that most of the appeal is in the distance and the mystery.”
“He knows you’re not really his type, but he still really wants to sleep with you, so he can speak of you as a novelty to friends and future lovers.”
Of course, this intuition is a two-way street. Fortunately I can feel all of the love and good intention too. I’m very grateful for this, and perhaps I need to tune my ear to listen more carefully for these signals.
Right now, with no filter, it can be overwhelming.
What has happened? I’d like to offer an opinion or two:
a.) I behaved exactly as I was supposed to. I was like a ball of loosely wound yarn in the paws of a tired and battle-scarred alley cat. I unraveled fairly easily, (because that is the nature of yarn) and when the unavoidable knots occurred, the cat got bored; yawned and stretched, pawed again once or twice to test for signs of life, and then found a sweet, plump bird with a fractured wing. (likely on the other side of a chain-link fence with a perfectly cat-shaped hole.)
b.) I fell into my familiar guilty pattern of romanticizing situations and individuals. I attached feelings to surfaces with no adhesive, that really did not want any adornment, so fueled was I by my own agenda, overflowing with expectation. I completely and totally misinterpreted the context, and came away utterly dissatisfied with the ending of the story.
c.) All of thee above.
In other news, I have a friend who lives far away. This friend visits every now and again. We laugh a lot and it is lovely. Each visit makes me wonder why we are friends. There must be some explanation, right?