Unrequited love

To further complicate my life, I managed to fall head over heels for a great guy. But, as has happened repeatedly in the last few years, my love is unrequited. So I give up on loving and being loved. I don’t want the heartache anymore. I don’t want to fall in love and have it hurt so much that it takes my breath away. There are times when it absolutely flattens me, drives me to my knees, causes me to wake sobbing in the middle of the night.

I suppose that feeling pain is better than feeling nothing, but there is so much pain in my life right now that it feels overwhelming. It feels like one huge lament after another – and I just want one happy day, when the world feels good and right. My blog is pretty damn depressing lately, but it’s a form of journal that hopefully will help someone else who is down realize he/she is not alone. Currently the sadness is not from depression, but from scars and loss and hurt. My heart is heavy, my mind swirls with endless questions and doubts, and it has become my enemy. I wake in the night thinking of him and try to convince myself that friendship is enough.

In the haze of pain, I started reading poetry again, and discovered that the poetry of Mary Oliver speaks to me in a way that none has before. Here is one that couldn’t be more right:

A Pretty Song

From the complications of loving you

I think there is no end or return

No answer, no coming out of it.

Which is the only way to love, isn’t it?

This isn’t a playground, this is

earth, our heaven, for a while.

Therefore I have given precedence

to all my sudden, sullen, dark moods

that hold you in the center of my world.

And I say to my body: grow thinner still.

And I say to my fingers, type me a pretty song.

And I say to my heart: rave on.

Mary Oliver, Thirst