I’ve never volunteered to fall in love. It is in many ways a spirit that invades when least expected or wanted. Like a burglar it trashes every room inside and hangs up huge pictures of the focus of my affections. It becomes impossible to look outside to see what you should be doing in life because it has spray-painted hearts on the windows. A tunnel vision takes over and you can constantly feel the heart beating, pumping something around the body that feels like an illegal substance – but was never taken in reality. With my advances rejected and not wanting to mess up a friendship, I wish to evict this burglar-come-squatter but it refuses to pack up and leave.
Having started to go to church again after an absence of neigh-on five years, it is perversely encouraging to hear pastors talk about how so many people are going through troubles, be it health, finances, emotional or whatever. Turmoil is rarely discussed, even sometimes between partners. In periods of honesty I express how I feel about something or someone, but never about where it really comes from. Even when things are calm on the surface the depths have always concealed a swirling mass of feelings and memories. When pain splashes into the surface it simply sinks down rather than dissolve, and at times of distress a whole life comes bubbling to the top.
I’ve always been a bit of a romantic. I remember persuading my mother to get a pair of clip-on earrings for a girl I liked when I was about six! Love has disorientated me periodically every since, and I still remember every relationship – even every girl I fancied who wasn’t interested – with fondness. I respect all my previous partners; they were good women even if I’ve only confessed snippets of bad episodes to the one I’m with. It’s with searing regret that I believe my past two long-term partners probably feel I am hanging onto bad memories or that they are hurting too. About three years ago – twenty years after we’d broken up – I got in touch with my first serious partner to tell her how much I admired and respect her, and felt much better for it. I was accompanied by an apology far too long in coming but it was a moment of healing nevertheless. It’s been over eight months since my last break-up and the last time we met up for coffee, some four months ago, frustratingly I couldn’t unlock the door to express what I wanted to say.
Lately I’ve been forcing myself on a path of self-reflection rather than repeating the patterns of the past, and church has helped somewhat too. Having been struck by lightning again all hell was breaking loose inside me and what was left of my calm exterior was threatening to break apart altogether. An ex used to say she thought I was on the autistic spectrum which made me vex! I’m not sure that’s the case but I think she was sensing something else, which is that hurt and pain releases emotions that were barely contained anyway. I think this stems from a basic lack of self-confidence and crushing shyness that was apparent in my youth but which I’ve tried so hard to mask throughout my adult life – and being a frequent speaker at conferences and a radio presenter I’ve been pretty successful at it – but these insecurities still plagues me deep down. It’s like there’s a basic fault with the wiring. The whole structure is a bit unstable and not suited to either cupid’s arrow or life’s challenges generally. I’d love God to sort this out because there’s no way I can!
Times of passion and romance eclipse these faultlines, but there have been periods where I’ve ‘shut down’ and devoted myself to work or campaigning, not because I ever really believed that was more important than a relationship, but because it was a diversion from myself. Yet the frustrations I have caused past partners because, perhaps, they wouldn’t really understand, has silently eaten away at me too. Right now I’m probably not right for anyone and need to thank the object of my affections for saying ‘no’. The truth is my desire to love has been absolutely crazy. I’ve got into all sorts of scrapes, lost dear friends and even lost jobs because over it! I’ve had some great times as well and I’ve loved the fact that I’ve been really loved, just as I have loved them. But I absolutely do not want anyone else to feel hurt, and I’m not entirely sure my heart could withstand another heartbreak.
My little niece, 16, told me the other day that her mother (my sister) and me were far too sensitive, along with her little sister too. I guess it runs in the family, particularly my fathers’ side. I think I now understand why he lost contact with his own blood relatives; to avoid having to talk about stuff, especially if there’s a dam of emotions that’s about to burst. I suspect the basic problem is that everything is out of proportion, both large and small, and there is a difficulty separating issues out. Right now I’m looking forward to the end of my councillor term, which finally ends in a couple of weeks, and indeed politics in general, so I can be ‘normal’ again and work on myself as well as trying to find God. I’ve got some issues I need to work on, practical and emotional. I hope that one day, in the not too distant future, I can say to my most recent ex’s that I still respect them and whatever craziness happened it wasn’t their fault, it was a reaction to me. And I really hope my new friendship continues, in a platonic way. None of this will be easy; I’m still consumed by strong feelings.
At the ripe old age of 43 I realize I don’t really love myself and need to do so for love to be strong and lasting. I need to lose the many fears that have held me back and caused me to avoid dealing with problems. I’ll probably always be a romantic fool but while I’ll never be a cool Alpha-male, I’d like to be stronger, more together, more in control of my life, and able to build that metaphorical castle for someone special forever.