“Selfishly,” he said, “you make me feel amazing but I don’t get attached, it’s my curse.” It felt more like an excuse. I wanted to ask why. To know the root of the so-called detachment. To push him and get him to think why he would ever electively give up something that felt so good. I told him I needed to think about how to move forward. A few hours later I told him the trip planned for next month was unnecessary and that we wanted different things. Then I wished him well and that was that.
It was the thing that didn’t come naturally to me but that I kept having to lean on this year. Selfishness. When I love people I give so much, sometimes too much. I want to take care of them and I pull them into me. And that for me, I guess is selfish…because it fills me up to see people I love happy and cared for. However since the beginning of the year this lesson has repeated. Having to think what’s best for me and it often causes friction between my head and my heart.
The first ending was with silence. Which was maddening. I felt like I deserved so much more than what I was being given. I wanted someone to fight with me, for me, for us. I came to the realization that I’m not over that. And it brought this current situation to a head. I found myself liking him despite my best efforts. And I found myself holding back. Which is not like me, it’s not what I prefer. I’m an all in type of woman. There are questions I want answered. There are pieces of him I wanted access to. There are inside jokes I want to form. It wasn’t what I anticipated from him or anyone but it’s where I found myself. But before I selflessly fell into him, I asked what I meant to him. Because I couldn’t take the heartbreak twice. Not of the man, but of who I thought I was and having that questioned in any way.
“So what” I asked God, “…am I supposed to be learning from these unattainable men?” From silences. From distances. From thick boundary lines that I didn’t draw or agree to. From spaces between. From miles. From open hands. From empty beds. From selfish.