Better Apart
January 26, 2014, 12:33 am
Filed under: Human Potential

It’s a thin line between love and hate. — Old Saying

[The following post is mean, but I’m growing and I need to let my anger out and play with things a bit to be freer. I would want the same for anyone… to have space, that is. “Everyone is a box of flowers.” (Blossoming.)]

I think time with a clingy person is equivalent to a one-night stand. Like with one-nighters, clingy people want you for one thing (your warm body) and then they’re “on to the next one.” Like men looking for just sex, clingy people aren’t really willing to give of themselves (who they are), probably because they (just like men who just want sex) do not realize they are Somebody. Both types, in my view, use others to fill the void they inevitably feel, not really enjoying or desiring to know a person, as if others are objects, which is probably how they see themselves.

Maybe I treat people this way, too, since they say what we say about others is true of ourselves? I do know what it’s like to use myself as an object, eating more than I really want because something tastes good, for example. For the record (and another example of using myself as an object), I have had four one-night stands out of my seven sex partners, at least a couple of those was because I felt like I was missing out. At some point I’d like to write a post on my views on sex. To me, it’s just one of many empty promises in this world, like romantic love.

Anyway, I think writing rather than discussion with “friends” seems best for me at this point since there’s no one in my life I feel I can really be myself with or express myself with. I’d rather be alone anyway; it’s just very fruitful for me. At one point I felt more open to making friends, but I’m starting to feel I’ve been right all along with having no friends. Intimate connections with people are elusive in my experience. I’m not bitter, a bit glad that I haven’t missed out on anything in having no friends (except one that I am actually really grateful for — even though we’re not super close, we’re both morally open-minded and enjoy discussion a lot–I’ll write about this some time, too).

It’s hard to say no when someone wants to go to dinner with me or have me over her house, but it’s clear now that the person I’m thinking of doesn’t really want to spend time with me, at least that’s how I feel. It appears that the person is getting nothing from my presence, except maybe a break from being with herself. The person does accept societal judgments of her situation, like saying, “I’ve been sick all my life,” about having a mental illness and saying it’s best not to tell people that she doesn’t work because she feels ashamed. I told her I disagreed and I felt like I was talking to an empty chair as I explained why. That is annoying.

Similar to a clingy person, I felt, up until a couple of years ago, that I needed a someone else to complete me. Maybe in-coincidentally, the two times I felt I’d met my soul mate were at points in my life when I felt really bad about myself because I accepted popular societal views of my situation. I didn’t have a good job with benefits, made very little money, so I felt like a failure and like I’d never be “successful” (make money, have benefits, fit in–a real treasure, eh?). I never got to be with either of the two people I thought were my soul mates (one a woman and one a man, both white and married). I am glad.

Perhaps I will do the clingy person (people) in my life the same favor. The clingy person I spent time with today is actually somewhat of a cool person (very friendly to strangers, always saying nice things about others); I just feel so irrelevant and wasted on her, almost like I’m not really there when I’m around her, like I’m a painting that’s been hidden in an attic under a dusty blanket for 34 years and eight months (my age). Like a work of art, I fucking have something to say, you idiot. I hate you.

Sometimes there’s this zombie-like look in her eye when I’m leaving like she’s just changing the bag in the garbage can, or finishing some routine task. She’s very neat. I struggle with the dirt and moldy things that must constantly be cleaned away at home (yuck!). It feels like a nightmare and I am at a loss for the symbolism (or fucking purpose!) of it. Maybe really neat people have other nightmares, but are okay with being walking dead people and eating people’s brains instead of appreciating them.

I like to get to the most true illusion possible, since this is all an illusion anyway. If I am invisible and irrelevant to someone, I might as well just not be around the person. I don’t believe in ridding myself of “toxic” people, which is 1) pathetic, and 2) bull shit in my opinion–even though I’m pulling the victim’s card here. I’m not running away, I’m just keeping it fucking real. So much for unconditional love, eh? Or perhaps I have yet to see what it looks like. I have a feeling it’s nothing like anything I’ve seen as “love” here on Earth.


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