Handsome

My mother’s heart went out of rhythm for a few seconds last night.  Thankfully, it was only for a few seconds…

I had a dream the other night about my aunt who recently died.  It was odd.  She seemed like she was both dead and alive at the same time.  During the dream I knew she was dead in real life, but it felt like she was actually alive in the dream itself.  Again, it was very odd…  And sort of lovely.

Right now I’m incredibly saddened by the death of the hopes I had about the man I named Handsome…   I really was developing actual romantic feelings for him.  I’m not ashamed of that fact.  And I don’t care how irrational or ditzy that might seem to some.

I think knowledge can be gained through many ways with some methods being more reliable and trustworthy than others.  And while I would never base an entire relationship of any sort on it, I think intuition does play a part in gaining understanding.  I had so many intuitive opinions that I gathered about Handsome and I really do think that, in spite of the rather hurtful and disappointing things I’ve now gathered to also be possibly true, most of the things I originally suspected are all still accurate too…   People are complicated.

At any rate, I’m not going to sit around and wallow in some sort of sad victimhood at whatever cruelty I have or have not endured, because I knew I was taking a risk…   I really did.

Two of the most frustrating things about my entire experience with him though, aside from the fact that the communication quality level we’ve had has been terrible in general, are how it seems that some people have either taken great pains to enjoy every last morsel of sadistic pleasure they can from ripping me apart for not being a polished and professional writer yet, or have wanted to twist every positive or kind feeling, action or intent I’ve had into something negative…   So, again, just to clarify: I started this blog as a way to improve my writing…  and to enjoy discussing fragrances.  And I’m still trying to do both.

My blog has never been written in an attempt at creating even a little fame for myself or as means of garnering attention.  I know people probably think otherwise (they have since the blog started) but popularity really wasn’t my goal.  I don’t actually care that much about being well known.  I’m not a competitive person.  I do want to be good at writing though… and to take time to savor beauty.  And, as a side-note, while I do happen to have a somewhat small but decent number of followers on Instagram, that too is not an attempt at a little tiny bit fame…

I wrote posts that I hoped Handsome would read, but I never thought he’d share them with other people.  I wasn’t prepared for that, mainly because I’m not that good of a writer yet.  But I have done my best to be as articulate as possible.  I also appreciate the people taking time to read my words who have done so not out of scorn but out of some form of genuine interest…   And, for any kind or insightful criticism I’ve received, I am also sincerely grateful.  Truly.

And, after all is said and done, the risk I took was worth it.  I don’t regret it at all, actually.  What I regret was not listening more to myself throughout the experience…

I also sometimes wonder (if Handsome actually cared) if I was supposed to call him back.  I didn’t because I thought it might not be the most thoughtful or wise thing to do.  I wanted to make sure I didn’t bother him in any way…  Well, someday, if he isn’t and wasn’t just full of nonsense and decides he wants to talk to me I suppose he still has my number.

I have learned a lot from this experience.  Matter of fact, one of my greatest lessons in this has been to try my hardest not give a damn what people think of me until I’m sure they truly care about me in some legitimate way – a lesson I’ve been learning my whole life.  I mean, I think a person should take well meaning criticism very seriously, but other than that…  nope.

So, in the spirit of what I keep learning, I’ll continue…

I want to fall in love with a man.  I don’t want to “catch” a man…

I think some could argue that I “caught” my husband in a way.  I’m good in bed (when I choose to have sex of course).  And, I’m pretty good at debating…  At least in person.  Mark liked both of those activities a lot…   I was probably one of the “best looking” (whatever that really means anyway) women he ever dated.  And, adding that all together, it bought me time to crack him open and possibly “save him” from his demons (as I’ve previously explained)…

But the next time I commit to a man, I want to fall with him…   I want us to share it.  I don’t want it to be one person trying to ensnare the other into something they don’t really want for themselves in their heart of hearts.

That’s one of the reasons I risked what I did to see what was actually going on with Handsome.  I thought, given what I perceived the situation to be, that it could be mutual and meaningful.  It seemed to be some sort of exchange of thoughts between two people who perhaps saw the world in a similar way…   Viewed from that perspective, the one I had at the start, it was all so intoxicatingly, breathtakingly lovely…

And, I will not stop believing that that beauty actually does exist somewhere.  I even think Handsome might have developed feelings for me at some point…  But, if he did, whatever held him back from going deeper or being truly vulnerable, be it some sort of attempt at decency or morality (which I would certainly sympathize with), lack of interest or actual evil, it all got messed up…  and was left in crazy, sad little pieces.

No, but somewhere, with some man, true love is possible.   I want passionate, meaningful love from a soul who sees me as neither friend nor foe.  And not even as his equal…  Superior?  Inferior?  No.  None of those.  I want it to be more like two parts of a whole – soul mates – two beings who demonstrate how beautiful God created human beings to be.  And, not about domination of any one person over the other, but about connection – romance – two opposites creating a whole.  This is what speaks to me.  It always has.  I don’t want to be a man’s “wife” per se (although I would like to get married again potentially).  I don’t want to be his “lover” even.    I want love.  I want to reach out and find that a man is reaching out for me too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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