a solitary soul

I am just fine without him, until I think about him.

I had a dream that I drowned myself in the ocean. The most frightening thing about the dream was that it did not frighten me. I found a peace in the sea that I have not known for months. All I feel right now is fear, sadness and self-hatred. Death was easier than trying to come to terms with all that is wrong with me.

If only love could be simple. If only I had the capacity to love without always feeling like something is lacking. There are days when he is so adorable that I cannot help but feel as though I love him. Any woman loves being doted upon. But there are also days when he is so irritating that I just wish I were single. Much as I may want to, I cannot completely resign myself to this relationship, because regardless of how much I love being loved, there is something critical that is missing. He is so much of what I want in a man, but he is not everything.

The more I think upon it, the less I want to be in a relationship. And yet, the more I think upon it, the less I want that to be the case. I want nothing more than to want him, yet I am unable. For so long I thought that my good intentions would create the desired end, that wanting to love him would eventually make me love him. But they have only made us both unhappy. Every attempt of mine to feel what I feel I should feel has failed, and perhaps it is best to move on and to allow him to move on. I find myself wanting to try again, but I just cannot get over the fear that I will only break both our hearts all over again. After all the damage I have already done, I cannot bring myself to take that risk. A heart can only be broken so many times, and difficult as it is for me to end it with him now, I know that I could not possibly live with myself if I did it to him all over again. Even if he thinks otherwise, I know that I am not worth it. It is not enough to try again and to know that we tried. I have never accepted that mentality. Of course we tried, and we failed. It was useless. I do not want to try again and get the same outcome of failure.

And yet, I am so afraid that if I let him go, I will never find another man who will love me the way he does. For all I know, I may someday genuinely love him, but while I am flattered by his devotion, I have to admit that I do not love him. The fact that he loves me, that we share interests, and that we have long been so close should be enough to guarantee my happiness, yet I am unhappy, and I can only ignore that for so long before it surfaces.

So much of my unhappiness comes from the fact that I simply want to experience more before I settle down. The intensity of his love frightens me. Especially after everything that has happened, I know that if I go back to him, it is for good, and that scares me like no other. It feels too early for me to commit to anyone. I am only eighteen. I have no desire to be tied down. I want to breathe, to run, to live a vagabond existence while I am still young.

But how selfish of me! After all we have been through, after all I have done to him, after all he has done for me, I hate the idea that it could be over forever simply because of my inability to love him the way he deserves.

I hate the idea that we might go on with our lives separately and that I will be forever plagued with the knowledge of what I have put him through. He has loved so deeply for so long, and I hate myself for allowing it to go on. I should have been responsible. I should have listened to myself when I said I would not get into a relationship with him. But he loved too greatly, and he wore me down. If only I had been stronger at the beginning, it would have ended before it began, but he broke through the resistance that I put on to protect us both, and now we are dealing with the consequences. He finally had me, and his happiness pleased me. It was a storybook ending. But it was not enough to outweigh that which is lacking.

For so much of my life, I wished only for one single person to love me, whom I could love in return and cling to and be with and be happy with. Now that such a one has found me, I have run away from him, and I hate myself for it. I hate myself for being unhappy. I hate myself for wanting more out of life. I hate myself for being so petty, foolish and selfish. I hate myself for allowing the relationship to continue when I knew full well how torn I was about it. I hate myself for trying to create something that did not exist. I hate myself for trying to force myself to love him, because it has only created even more heartache.

I had everything I really needed wrapped around my finger, yet I could not just be content. What in the world is wrong with me?

It is not in my power to create love. Either it exists, or it doesn’t. I must learn to accept that which I cannot change. Slowly, I am recovering, but there still remains a long distance to go, and it will not be easy. I am "seeing with different eyes and making the acquaintance of new conditions in myself that color and change my environment." I am realizing my place in the world, the things which I truly desire, and the direction in which I want my life to go. I am realizing what a mess I have made of things, and I am beginning to understand the anguish that drove Edna Pontellier to the depths of the ocean.

I am so completely and utterly disappointed.