So why doesn't it feel like enough when I feel it? I want simply to feel more, love more, not only owe what I have today, but dedicate the rest of what I have in the future.
I want to say that everything I do is for myself, to make myself happy. I want to try new things, cook new dishes, drink more wine, play more poker, have more sex, love more people, work out more, eat healthier. But the truth is, I want these things only because he's inspired me to. This seems healthy enough--love is that which inspires growth. But I imagine that, although I am not capable of a healthy relationship with him now, we'll be together in the end, if I can just learn more about life, and perhaps love. If I were to grow up first.
But deep in my mind, I've resigned to the fact that, no, we will not be together. And because I'm already in love with him, my first real love, I'm almost of the idea that I would not want to risk the misery of our inevitable break-up. I'd have to be 100% certain that I could make it work, and that he would be even more willing to make it work.
I never felt love as a teenager. I never fell head-over-heels for boys, and when I did fall for them, it was short-lived. Even as I obsessed, I knew it would end within the week. Years went by where I grew up, and never met anyone worth my while. Even concerning friendships, they have to be a god or goddess for me to waste my time on them. I found a god.
It's all or nothing. That's the key to my personality, I've learned over the years. Especially with him. Unless we think we're going to be together to the end, I don't want to bother. I cannot and will not put my heart on the line. I can control the pain now, but if I invest anything else into this man only to have it ripped away by my own inadequacies (which I would blame), I would not be able to stand it. I would have to be blessed with complete confidence that I would make him happy.
And although there have been other men, and we've both slept with others, I cannot stand the idea of him with another woman in the bed I came to appreciate so much. It seemed so easy for him to wrap his arm around me as we slept, and I realize it's because he'd done it with so many women, so often. But I wonder, does he hold their hands, as well, when he falls asleep? Have I gotten any special treatment at all?
And I feel silly for having fallen in love. I don't want to admit it, and for so long wasn't sure if I should use the term. No one on earth has made me both love the world and despise myself so much at once. I once considered the feelings healthy, but now I'm not so sure. Once I admitted to myself that yes, I was in love, and that yes, it was extremely foolish, I embraced it. Even if it's just another mistake, this is in me, for good. And I'm proud of myself. I find it incredible, that I can feel this deeply. That, in itself, makes me cry, because for years I wondered if I were capable of love at all. This is why the book excerpt is currently what it is--I am a young woman in love, and I want to savor it for as long as possible.
I've come to discover that the feelings I never expected to ever feel in my life were the ones that hit the hardest.