I’ve been sitting here for the past hour trying to start this damn post. I realized yesterday that it’s been close to 3 weeks since I last even looked at this Blog O’Mine. There was a period over the summer when looking forward to sitting down to write was the only thing getting me through. It felt like a lifeline for me when I was close to drowning. I almost feel like I’ve been unfaithful somehow. I want writing to be a central part of my life, I want it to always be something I turn to. What if I turn around one day and it’s not there for me anymore? What if I outgrow this desire to emote, create and reach out? Eh, that’s just fear talking. She can hit the bricks.
I’m pretty certain that I will always write. I just feel terribly neglectful lately. Nothing bad has happened. No metaphoric shit has hit the fan. All is well. In fact, all is really well. Writing has not been on my mind because I’ve been beautifully distracted. I’ve fallen in love. Plain. Simple. Wonderfully complicated.
I’ve been distracted like this before….beginning phases of relationships always used to take up all my energy and focus. In the past, my immediate pace was Ludicrous Speed (points if you get the reference). I went hard, fast and furious because I was falling in love Goddamnit. And that was all I ever wanted out of life. Love loveity love love love. It would be a constant stream of texts, phone calls, head in the cloud fantasies (delusions), lots of sex, lots of food and lots of booze. I would lose myself in this pattern and binge uncontrollably until I would inevitably have to come up for air….and when I did, I would wonder how the fuck I had ended up in the exact same place I had vowed never to return – with a man who didn’t value who I am and who was deeply broken and incapable of loving himself. The reason for that is simple, I used my new boyfriends as another layer of buffering myself against the harsh flow of my life. I couldn’t deal with myself or what I had been through without something to take the edge off. My addiction is threefold, remember? Food, men, alcohol. The men part didn’t just have to be a stranger. I used the ones I fell in love with to numb me too.
This time though. It’s different. Before it was oil and water with the men I picked. Now it’s peanut butter and chocolate. I am not ready to go into too much detail. It’s still really new and in the fragile stage of general disbelief. How is this my life now? Am I really allowed to feel this good? This free? This accepted? This loved? I still feel the quiet fear that if I go ahead and sing my voice at top volume about how I feel then I will have somehow jinxed myself and the universe will snatch back the gift it has given me.
I’m sure that will wear off.
I’m sure I will write more too.
I’m not getting lost this time around.