I had lunch with a friend, well, it’s interesting saying friend because I don’t think we have every hung out just the 2 of us alone in 3 decades. But I think that has more to do with our similarities than differences. We both were in theater and hung out with folks in a band, but our interactions were limited in some capacity.
But we both had weird childhoods and probably get put under the classification of complex PTSD granted with some differences. I was a lot more sick and her parents way worse. But we both have some raw underlying needs that it has taken a lot of time to dig into and discover how to work through them.
She is an amazing mother with a ton of kids, something I can’t understand how she survives simply because one has always been a lot. She reaches out on occasion when life is a lot to check in and I appreciate it. She is also a way better friend than I am, I would easily forget people’s birthdays if I haven’t loaded things into my calendar but she is pretty freaking awesome.
As we caught up and talked about life, men, children, growing up, regrets, losses, loves and acceptance of ourselves, it was incredibly reassuring to see her happy. Life isn’t kind, especially for some. You start off learning to early that lesson and it greatly taints your ability to not always be on edge. It’s cruel to learn when you are tiny you are not enough. That you are not important. That you are defective. You don’t get the normal hardwiring so you end up putting up with others’ behavior that you shouldn’t. Trust is hard. Abandonment is both expected and reinforces that you will never be enough. What is worse is that for people who haven’t experienced it, it is hard to explain. Why you stayed when you should have left, why you left before giving something a chance, why your responses are always couched in a level of emotion that doesn’t fully match what it is needed.
What is the worst part is you know that you are broken, and you can try your damnest to fix it, but deep down you know you can’t. You can’t fix the past. So instead you just try to accept it, act as normal as possible and not cause damage to others.
I am an odd duck. I crave stability and yet regularly embrace chaos. I work for a start up in tech. But I am good at my job because of the damage. Yes, I am smart and have skills. But I can disassociate easily which allows for really good at negotiation and client interactions. Because I am used to trying to read people to determine to try and prevent pain, I am really good at reading subtext and guessing what is the real drivers of folks thoughts and actions.
So because of the chaos of work, I seek stability in my personal life. But a love life can be dangerous and there have been very very very few men that have ever been able to get me to fully engage. That is of course out of fear.
But she would love to see me get together with a mutual friend. I get it, I do adore him and even as we have gotten older and I feel frumpy, fat and frail, he has gotten hotter with age. But I have always cared more about him than he has about me. And he is one of 2 men who could actually hurt me. Yes, I have male friends who could do some real damage but I mean romantically. Because I am a pretty strong independent woman. Lonely a bit but that is because I have learned to be alone and comfortable with it most of the time. It’s safer. But if I let someone in, really let someone in, be vulnerable in that way, I don’t know if I could handle not being important to them. Yes, kids come first, but I should probably be in the top 3. And one of those slots is clearly occupied by someone else, it was years ago and it doesn’t seem like that has really changed. And I can’t compete with an ideal that didn’t really seem to exist even if he was able to get it back. Years ago, I would have probably been willing to be second fiddle in hopes he would see me, want me for me. Hell, I did for a bit. But I’m too tired to put energy into someone who will never love me as much as what is really just a fictional character. At that point I would rather just have a fuck buddy and just have various Pride and Prejudice and Parks and Rec in the background for my own fictional loves (Mr. Darcy and Ben Wyatt, I like them dorky, witty and kind).
I am so happy she has her OTP. She deserves it. It oddly gives me hope too. Not that I am going to find my OTP. That it is possible to have something even when you feel like a wreck of a human being. That maybe I don’t need to be alone all the time. And that there is the possibility of amazing fantastic physical chemistry even at our age.
Okay, that last part definitely makes me jealous. There are days I would settle for really good sex and them deciding what is for dinner.
