Love, A Four Letter Dirty Word

What is love?  Everyone in the whole world is screaming for it.  Can anybody define it?

So many words are used to try and explain that one little word.  Is love what I read in the "Twilight" Books of the world?  What I feel to be the teenage obsessive version or is it the happy ending of the movies with the main characters jumping into bed with one another. 

What is love, that I feel totally incapable of having it?  That is all my life has been about searching for that elusive feeling.  Others thought it was strange that I did not want the blistering heat of fame.  I never wanted that.  I wanted to be the type of actor that showed up in every movie and TV show as a little character.  I wanted people to think they had already knew me from somewhere.  All of my actions have been private and one on one because I just wanted a person that I could feel safe with.  One person that I could share my opinions with and get a conversation back.  One person who I felt heard me.  He didn't have to agree, but I need to feel connected.

I figured out pretty early that sex was a short-cut to that connection.  Sex is a strange monster, maybe a shape-shifter who starts out cute and cuddly, the problem is I would watch as it morphed into a savage soul sucking beast with sharp teeth and large claws.  I am not a prissy girl.  I hung out more with people outside of my standards and they would get destroyed by the mis-use of sex.  More pain and anguish followed the perversion then the joy of the act.  I had no desire to be broken into pieces so I did not enter the world I witnessed.  I wish I could say it was my amazing strength of morale fiber, but the reason I didn't indulge is because I didn't find anyone that I could trust.  There was no emotional connection to anything or anybody.

You know what thought keeps me awake, "What is wrong with me?"  I don't fit anywhere and that is wearing me down to the bone.  I have tried.  I swear to you that I have tried to fit into so many groups.  I love theatre, but I was not pretty enough to enjoy any important roles.  A little resentment, but I tend to be very realists in my logic.  It can be daunting to spend hours waiting to go on for one scene.  I knew I couldn't go very far because of my weight.  I was in band, a great place for nerds, but I wasn't ever nerdy enough to blend in with them.  I tried to be a proper "typical" Mormon, but the chasm becomes very wide when you are in a religion devoted to the family and you don't have one.  It is wonderful, but to be an old maid at 25 is rather daunting and now that I am upper thirty's there is no way or rather they are very slim, that I will ever have a family of my own.  I went to Fashion Design college where I was introduced to the Homosexual life style.  I lived with a gay man(sort of, we had an apt. together).  I watched their interaction and decided that I had no desire to be in the gay lifestyle.  I also figured out the materialist voracious appetites of the fashion world and I could not allow myself to be swallowed up in that world.

So here I am struggling to find a place.  I either reject or I am rejected. 

I read a comment to one of my first blogs and it said something like,"...I read about a girl desperate to be loved."  I felt insulted when I first read the comment because I do not act desperate.  I despise when others debase themselves for scraps and in many ways I would rather starve then bow my head to another in submission, but I am more than willing to give myself to those who  take the time.  I have had bright shinning spots of love given to me.  That is how I know what love is.  That is why I crave that form of love, not what the world says is love.  I want to be bound to another.  I want to know without hesitation that he will follow my lead as I would his.  I want my concern to be focused on another and his concerns focused on me, so that it is an active relationship.  I want too much.  I know I do.  I want accept that I want desperately to be loved, but I am not willing to give that love to just anyone.

I was listening to an LDS wedding, the kind done in the temple and it is doctrine that the two people are sealed together for this life and into the next.  That's along time.  I was listen to the words said in the ceremony and I felt myself physically jerk at the promise being asked because of the striking difficulty I was having with the concept.  The man asked the bride and groom if they were willing to give themselves to one another.  Are you willing to give up your time, talents and your will to the other person?  I felt slapped in the face because I knew that I would have to answer that question with a resounding "No!"  I felt that I was completely closed to allowing another person into me.  I knew that was a problem and I worked very hard to change those feelings.  I opened up and I was able to bend.

I believed that someone could love me, that it was possible.  I believed through all the crap that was happening to me, one person would see me and my talents and love me for them.  That did not happen.  I was not chosen despite all I did to change.  And I return to the question, "What is wrong with me?"

I am watching my life deteriorate before my eyes.  My emotional and physical health has shattered and I don't know what to do anymore.  I set up a book club back in Simi Valley and it was a magical circle in time.  I felt heard, even though my thoughts and feeling were normally contrary to the group and it was a special time to honestly express ourselves.  My mother has tried to start one here in Virginia and it really is the people who make a difference.  I sat in that room feeling frustrated and disconnected.  I went into the bathroom sat on the toilet and cried in desperation.  It felt just the same as it did when I was 15 at a church dance and all the boys I asked to dance with said No, with a couple of hell No's, sprinkled in.  The same rejection, the same frustration, the same disconnect.  I can't stand it anymore.  I don't have the strength do deal with the hurt anymore.

I am going to take a break from writing in this blog for awhile.  It was an experiment to try and connect, but this is so one-sided I don't think it is working.  I don't know if I feel safe in this forum.  I don't know if I want you to know the real pain.  I have had to go numb as a defense and I don't know if I can endure defrosting my cold heart.

Thank you for reading.