Reading Paulo Coelho's "The Witch of Portobello" at the moment, and almost immediately I was struck by an insightful line of prose.
"No one places her dreams in the hands of those who might destroy them."
After reading that sentence, I closed the book and fired up my phone so I could write this post.
I have been placing my dreams in the hands of those who.. Have destroyed them. Many times. And like a weary Phoenix, I always seem to reluctantly rise again from the ashes.
But, trust is so essential in building a relationship with someone. Shouldn't it be? If my dream is to love and be loved by someone worthwhile, then it would make sense to trust them with the admission of a dream like my own. Wouldn't it?
But lines like what Paulo has written, makes me wonder. Past experience makes me wonder; and I realize the harder I try, the more dejected I feel and the likelier I will suffer a disappointment of some kind or another.
But, if I have to conceal such a dream, if I am too afraid to openly confess to wanting it, or to refuse to live my life in a way that honors such a dream; then what is the point? How can I be true to myself, if I have to supress such a yearning in the presence of others?
Why am I forced to lie, to prevaricate, to manipulate notions, ideas and clues of self-identity? Because I am afraid, that's why. I'm afraid of having my heart broken yet again, and then blaming myself for whatever has transpired.
I'm so saddened by thoughts like these. I feel like such a whiner, as well. As if I was six years old looking at an expensive toy that I can't afford to buy, but wanting it just the same. More and more as time passes. The urge gradually becomes an obsession, and my imagination feeds into it and places the item on the highest of pedestals; disregarding it's actual value.
But what I want is valuable. It's the most valuable thing in the world, isn't it? To be accepted. Appreciated. Loved for both what I can offer, and excused for what I cannot.
So, then, I should hang onto these dreams, but maybe.. Maybe I..
I don't know. I texted Gina a link last night to a song by my favourite artist at the moment. Paige and June, is the title. It's a sweet and moving piano instrumental and I felt so compelled to share it with her, and only her (because she loves Debussy) that I sent it over.
Even though I'm certain she wouldn't respond. And I'm equally as certain, that my messages are being blocked, so she hasn't received it anyways.
Woe is me, right?
It bothers me how effortlessly some guys are able to find a decent long term relationship for themselves, and I'm baffled as to how I haven't been able to achieve the same. So much so, that I'm really pouring over the tiny hidden details and memories governing my interactions in past relationships so I can correct my mistakes and come to an understanding of them.
And no guy does what I do, I don't think, most of those who are in stable long term loving relationships. They just seem to get lucky. Right place, right time, and they rarely go the extra mile with their girlfriends. Flowers? "Haven't bought her flowers in years" some have told me. Let alone having deep, meaningful conversations and/or dressing nicely to keep their woman pleased. That's just some of what I've observed. Effortless reward. Even if many do complain about having been with the same person for so long, they at least have that stability, that acceptance. That person in their life who is at home, waiting for them to arrive. To wake up each morning with. To watch tv together and talk about their day. Everyday.
(sighs)
I'm such a whiner.
Part of what I realized about Gina yesterday, is that I unintentionally diminished her. I saw her as a lesser person at one point, because she wasn't stimulating me enough intellectually. We never had a long and passionate conversation, really.
Not like the ones Gyngie and I have.
So.. Yeah.
I don't know what else to say.
She was the one I was looking for, but my arrogance got the better of me. I couldn't appreciate her as much, because I didn't explore her mind enough. Sex was the main event of most of our interactions. I never thought we could have a deep and insightful conversation together, so I never really tried at having one.
My mistake. Hers too, I suppose, but men should take the lead in such matters, and I failed in my duties.
I'll accept responsibility.
I just wasn't ready for her.
(sighs)
I know that now.
I'm slowly getting better.
But I wish I was better back then.
Before it all went to shit.
Hang onto love when you find it, but keep a gentle grip. Know that living an autonomous life filled with self respect is much more important than aquiescing to the whims of other people, who may unintentionally compromise that self respect.
Be powerful and vulnerable all at once.
No fear.
Only authenticity.
Authenticity is all that matters.
Never let anyone usurp it.
Not even your deepest desires.
