It’s funny how when you have spent such a long time hankering for love and intimacy without the prospect of gaining it you attain a kind of peace.
You are not happy in this peace because you really want that love and intimacy with a woman.
When the prospect finally arises; when the prospect seems promising then your hopes build up.
The slightest things can set you in a fever pitch of “she’s lost interest”, “It was a con all along”, “people like you don’t deserve to be intimate with other people.” and “You’re a freak. You should crawl back into the fetid hole from whence you came.”
Of course all this is silly.
I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t want to be with me.
I want an intimacy within which we can grow into each other.
So if this person over whom you have been building the castle of hope turns out not to be the one to fulfil that hope that’s fine.
They haven’t led you on. They may have been unsure and just trying you out for size and found you didn’t fit. Better to know such a thing now than later.
They most certainly don’t deserve to be castigated; they are just not the one (or one of the ones).
But there’s still that inner child who feels like Christmas has been cancelled.
He wants to stamp his feet, throw a tantrum and shout derogatory comments.
I don’t let this inner child have his way. I don’t try to stop him either.
I just sit back, let and watch him tantrum away inside of me secure in the faith that it will end.
Like all emotional states they arise and fall away like waves on the ocean.
I might give in a little bit. Never to the point of nastiness.
Just the odd message to check that my surmising are correct. Of course in the hopes that they are not.
Just a little “Hope your OK. If you’ve discovered I’m not for you that’s cool. I mean I’ll be sad for a bit but I’ll get better. But if I’m wrong that would make me super happy”