TheWillderness
Jul 20, 2017 · 4 min read

Ive spent my afternoon today crying while wading through a bunch of I don’t knows and self pity.

It started with dreaming of her again. Waking up feeling actually not so bad, since I didn’t remember what I had dreams of until I had set off for the day. Then, when I entered the teashend cafe I was immediately struck by a support group talking about the tough times in their lives and 22, a million playing in the background with favorites from Bon Iver’s other albums mixed in-between. If this morning wasn’t enough I also recalled that whenever I have significant time to myself I find my mind wandering to her and the time we spent together/things we talked about then. It really has been such a long time.

I found her work address and nearly ordered 2 dozen roses to her. I wanted to do this month’s ago. I still do. I still might place that order today. I spent my morning after a cup of chai at the cafe hiking up a small Mt. Tabor on the east side of Portland. At the top I listened to 22, a million and wrote poetry and small snippets of things I thought she might like and planned to send it along with flowers. I was satisfied when I came up with: “Some omnipotent asshole told me he was going to send you flowers. I hope mine got to you first.”

I just told a long ago friend yesterday something that I firmly believe: “in order to have happy in a relationship with another person, you need to be happy with yourself. If loving yourself, truly knowing yourself, doesn’t come first, then the relationship is doomed to fail.” I do have self respect, but I also sadden myself and disappoint myself quite a lot and look at those things as motivations to improve rather than some darkness that I’ll never escape. I wonder, if I truly loved and knew myself, would I even be able to tell? I find the self as ever changing and adapting. What does it really mean to love and know oneself? Would not sending flowers betray my inner feelings after all?

Many things about today have frightened me. I know I have a record for dependency on companions for happiness in the past and at every point in my life since meeting her when I get enough thinking space she inevitably comes up. I truly must be obsessed. I also recognize this as a curse and a gift.

The other, largest, sadness is this: her complacency for my feelings towards her. She cares some amount buy after I saw her a few months ago my fire was reinvigorated and I nearly made plans to move out to L.A. to “see about a girl.” I attempted to talk to her about all my feelings once again (I confessed my love for her more than once), but I quickly felt the cold shoulder and began spiraling down so quickly. One of my best friends talked me out of my delusion and helped me see it clear for what she was really saying which was, the worst thing it could possibly be, a “soft no.” I was going mad trying to calm myself down from asking her to be more specific but my heart couldn’t take it and I eventually gave in, I caved and began doing things for me. Or at the very least telling myself I was doing things for me to keep my mind off of her.

And now she’s back. I still think she may believe me dishonest in the pure love I feel for her, because of what happened between us and this is what hurts most of all. I find myself hating my feelings for her because to love her means to disregard respect for myself, how I am, and what kind of person I deserve. But I don’t give a shit about that. I would give up everything I’ve worked to create. DAMN IT! Let it all burn to the ground! WHO CARES ABOUT MY GOD DAMNED EGO? WHATS THE POINT OF ANY OF THIS IF I CANT BE TRUE TO MY FEELINGS, IF I CANT GIVE THIS MY ALL? WHAT DOES MY IDENTITY HAVE TO DO WITH ANY OF THIS. I WANT TO TRY.

I suppose thats my catch 22; My endless loop. I don’t give a damn about myself, I’m selflessly, shamelessly infatuated with a girl who won’t take me seriously. Won’t give me the chance I so yearn for. All the while my logical brain is hard set on building my self worth and whenever I have the time to think about this I rage inside.

I want to ask her if I’ll ever have a chance to be with her, to explore these feelings that are stunted. Selfishly yearning for her acceptance or some reason to help me be at peace with “why not?” But I believe I’ll never be at peice with it. Doomed to forever wonder, and such is life.

Scary still is how misplaced all this probably is. She is more than likely different than she was and the impossibility that I could still have the same feelings for a person I really don’t know anymore is a prevalent thought of mine. It has been 5 years.

Regardless of any of this, I still may send her flowers. *A sigh and smile* After all, who knows how things may turn out, I could die tomorrow, life is fleeting, and is a 100$ anonymous bouquet to make her smile worth it to me? An easy question.

Does it mean I submit to a lack of self respect? God damnit…

)
TheWillderness

Written by

Hopeless romantic adrenaline fueled scientist who always has something on his mind.