For a long time I’ve been on the quest for the one, the person who I was told throughout my childhood existed. The person who would make all of the neuroses in me hush the fuck up and pipe down.
I’ve had quite a few boyfriends and I’m not ashamed to say that; I’ve had the ones I’ve thought I’d been in love with, the ones who bought me pretty things, the ones who called me fat, the ones who were only with me for something (one) to do, the boys who’ve been beautiful, the boys who’ve been funny, a few who’ve been kind and many who haven’t and one who I said ‘yes’ to.
Yet, here I am at 28, very single, and dare I say very alone. Most recently I let my guard down to someone who I thought was the person I’d been told about, who said all the lovely things you want to hear including the all important declaration of love, yet who dumped me via text message and removed me from all social existence, like I was never in his life at all. I’ve not known that kind of heartache since the first person I fell in love with when I was 16, and it was awful, so much so that I still can’t get myself over it, even now.
Before that was a lovely man whom treated me wonderfully and whom I got on very well with, yet circumstances changed and pulled us apart, since this change in circumstance communication has been reopened and I thought that maybe there was something still there. But as with all things I’ve learned with men, is that you never really know what they are thinking or feeling.
And so as I sit and write this to you, the people in the internet, like I’m Meg Ryan in ‘You’ve Got Mail’ and tell you how lonely I am and how broken my heart is, I want to ask you how much heartache can a heart really take? And I don’t just mean the heartache from failed relationships but those of family and friends too. I mean how strong must a heart be to take it all of this bullshit and still manage to pump enough blood to your face to put a smile on it?
I think what is bothering me the most is that I have often felt and still feel that I am never enough… and over dramatically I was never enough for my dad to stick around, for my failed engagement to actually reach I do, for the ‘I love you’s’ to mean exactly that… I see all of my friends getting married and having babies and I hear now almost daily of ex’s who never wanted girlfriends or partners who are now very much in them, being coupley and delightful, just not with me. I mean why not me, why am I not enough? For me it doesn’t even come down to the Bipolar crap I carry around like a rucksack everyday, but like many people I just wonder what the fuck is it in me that makes men in-particularly revolt?
Granted I can be too needy, sensitive, overly kind, temperamental and a pain in the ass but I’d like to think there is far more positive in me than negative to justify being treated like crap, dumped via text, used for sex, or undecided about, I’d like to think that I am enough.
Yeah I know you’ll all say, it’s them it’s not you, you are enough blah, blah, fucking blah. but that can’t all be true so in ending to this blog of a rant, all I’m hoping is that someday soon someone realises that I am enough and tells me that they love me, mean it and that they mean it enough to stick around.
Not too much to ask, no?