When Brian and I were together, I felt like I was excellent at letting him have his despair. For a reason I don't understand now but that back then I chalked up to a newly developed relationship skill, I could tolerate his angst. The existential "I don't know what the fuck to do and I'm lost" that everyone has didn't catalyze the fight or flight response I'd been used to in past relationships. I could listen and not think he needed to be fixed because he had that kind of psychological torpor. If anything, I was impressed by his ability to express himself and my ability to accept that his turmoil wasn't a reflection of me or of what he had to offer me.
That's what so disappointing about being sick, asking for some juice, not getting it, and later hearing Brian say, "Honestly, I just didn't want to have to deal with you." It's what's upsetting about my (consummate Jewish) mother telling me, You need to meet a professional gay man who's older and more mature. It's what's wrong with trying Christy's "let's listen to it" approach to this depression. It's what's hard to handle about Maria asking me to do trainings, or Cathy encouraging me to become a doctor. I just want to have someone who doesn't give a fuck if I do nothing more than what I've done in life, someone who can momentarily love unconditionally, someone who can sit with me in the despair and not run away in fear that I, too, can be dismal.
On the walk home tonight, after an evening of Thai food with Rachael and Alex followed by going out to The Bar with Manjari and Vikaas, I realized I wasn't pining for Brian in the way I have been. Maybe it's because he left me a message, which didn't outright say, "I care about you," but which did carry some hint of interest in sharing himself with me. So it's less of a hook than before for me to think about him with other people. And I thought, walking home, that I'm not crazy preoccupied with him right now. In fact, I'm not really feeling like I miss him, which feels odd. I almost didn't know what to do for lack of the pining. And then I could see that I might be fine after all. I might be able to get through this period of loneliness without losing ground, without losing my sense of integrity and truth, without sinking into a bottomless pit.
That's what so disappointing about being sick, asking for some juice, not getting it, and later hearing Brian say, "Honestly, I just didn't want to have to deal with you." It's what's upsetting about my (consummate Jewish) mother telling me, You need to meet a professional gay man who's older and more mature. It's what's wrong with trying Christy's "let's listen to it" approach to this depression. It's what's hard to handle about Maria asking me to do trainings, or Cathy encouraging me to become a doctor. I just want to have someone who doesn't give a fuck if I do nothing more than what I've done in life, someone who can momentarily love unconditionally, someone who can sit with me in the despair and not run away in fear that I, too, can be dismal.
On the walk home tonight, after an evening of Thai food with Rachael and Alex followed by going out to The Bar with Manjari and Vikaas, I realized I wasn't pining for Brian in the way I have been. Maybe it's because he left me a message, which didn't outright say, "I care about you," but which did carry some hint of interest in sharing himself with me. So it's less of a hook than before for me to think about him with other people. And I thought, walking home, that I'm not crazy preoccupied with him right now. In fact, I'm not really feeling like I miss him, which feels odd. I almost didn't know what to do for lack of the pining. And then I could see that I might be fine after all. I might be able to get through this period of loneliness without losing ground, without losing my sense of integrity and truth, without sinking into a bottomless pit.
posted by barn | 11:57 PM
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