Hope blooms

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Ok.  All hope isn’t lost.

Elskan mín & I have reconnected. Things are moving forward.  Maybe spring will thaw us out of winters gloom soon, but my hearts been warmed and I feel I can carry on again.

Of course things aren’t perfect. I have things to work on. He does as well.  We both have to continue to learn to communicate with each other in the most healthy way.  But I’m glad I didn’t just blow up.  Or completely shut down.  I wasn’t feeling happy but I was able to wait, albeit impatiently.  Maybe I’m learning.

Relationships are as challenging as they are rewarding. As a natural hermit I have to really feel a good connection with someone to even want to bother. He’s worth that bother. And I’m willing  to take the bullshit that invariably comes with the blessings. Nothing is perfect. I’m sure that I’m a total pain in the ass sometimes. I was more than half convinced that he’d decided to say fuck off.  But when we saw each other, hugged each other, I could feel our mutual relief. Mutual gratitude. It’s the best feeling to be taken into the arms of someone who was recently furious with you. Being loved in the face of your imperfections is so powerful.

And a little bit of make up sex never hurts either!

space

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Space. Elskan min needs space. Great.

We had a very stupid fight, and now I’ve been given “space”.

A vast void of space.

I’m not lacking in space. I’ve got way too much space, in fact. Space I’d love to build a life and a love with.

But I’ve fucked it all up. Again.

Apparently I’m aloof to his problems. And I “nitpick”, which I know I can do, I try very hard to not do so, and still I have destroyed this relationship despite my efforts.

I’m not aloof to his problems, though. And I felt like I did many kind and thoughtful things to try to help him feel better when he was stressed. Again, clearly a massive failure on my part.

And I just feel so stupid. Stupid for thinking I was capable. Lovable.

Maybe I need to accept that I’m clearly shit at relationships. At 46 and single yet again it would appear that is true.

I don’t think I can handle dating again.

I needed to write and now I just don’t know what to say. What do I have to say about anything? I feel mute. Numb.

 

I’d love to find that some space helps, and maybe it will. Time will tell. Great, I love waiting around. I’ve certainly got lots of practice.

But right now any hope I had feels dead. And embarrassing.

Spinsterhag fails again.

 

Are you going to blog about this?

F7DD0AC4-3725-48F2-B558-6D96A70C915A.pngApparently all you need to be happy is open arms and balloons.  Lots of balloons.  That must be what I’m doing wrong!

I had a wonderful holiday with elskan mín and my family.  It was really lovely.  I was going to write all about it.  But now it seems like a distant memory.  I’m not surrounded by balloons.  I’m not feeling like opening my arms. I feel like I’ve fucked it all up because I suck at being happy.

I was asked, accusingly, if I was going “to blog about this” not long ago.  And no, I’m not blogging about that. Or that.  But I need to write about this because now I’ve been plunged back into my native state of fear & anxiety and blogging helps.   Who knows why.  Maybe I should try balloons.  But I was also told, in a heated moment, that I’m “never happy!”   And this made me want to run. Hide. Die or dissolve into the ether.

People Being happy isn’t something I grew up around. My parents were both deeply unhappy people. I was a very happy child but being sexually assaulted as a toddler at daycare and then feeling abandoned by my father during my parents divorce a few years later put a huge damper on my happiness. I was depressed as a young girl.  I pulled my hair out in handfuls when my dad moved out. I know anxiety well. Fear. Depression.  Happiness seemed like a fleeting trick or something reserved for better people.

Being told that my deepest fear is actually true I really flipped out.  I started to just bolt but then stayed to try and talk but that didn’t go well.  When I get emotionally stabbed in my most vulnerable wound I am not good at staying calm or rational.  I probably don’t hear what the person is saying after clearly.  All I know is I’ve failed at just being a good, happy person and I’m humiliated that I ever thought I’d succeed.

Falling in love is amazing.  And I’m so in love. I want to make a life with this man. Which feels amazing. And also terrifying. It’s so much more comfortable to stay alone and accept that being kind of ok but very lonely is the best I should dare to hope for. But I’ve gotten out on this limb of love and I want it to work.  I want to be happy.  But I think I’m really shit  at it. I’m scared of being to happy. Bad things can happen when your guard is down. But not much can happen when your guard is up,especially when it’s made of 12 inch thick bulletproof glass and you’ve become so lonely you’re actually invisible.

There was a fight.  We will talk.  I hope things can be worked out. I hope my fucking hot flashes cease. I hope for things I dare not hope for and hate myself for it when it all goes wrong. But I want to learn to be happy and not self destruct because it’s more familiar. I want a life with love and connection and I hope I can build that, with elskan mín.  I hope I haven’t ruined things already. I wish I’d gotten better at relationships by my age but all I can do is try to be better now.

I’m totally  failing as a blogger because I was focusing on being in love. And when it goes wrong I turn here to try and get clarity, or just cope. But  I want to have both!  Certainly if it comes to it I’ll choose love for sure. I mean, I know my 44 followers will be fine without my intermittent rambling. And I’d be fine if things fall apart in this relationship but I don’t want to be fine, I want to be happy, as scared as I am.

But maybe I’ll get to have it all?

the first “fight”

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(if only our first “fight” was in Iceland driving the ring road like this photo appears to be, so romantic!)

 

We had our first fight. An argument, sort of. Really a misunderstanding, miscommunication, a discussion that got emotional and ultimately ended in a wonderful talk that clarified some real key issues and brought us closer. But in the middle of it I was terrified. That I would ruin everything.

I don’t like to fight. Or argue. It’s not fun. I love to discuss, and I’ve found a man who likes me having “strong opinions” and we can disagree on things and there is no problem. This is wonderful.

But while my emotions were getting the best of me I was feeling total despair. I want him to understand me, to see me as I am. When I realized that he had gotten this skewed image and I was trying to make things clear I was so scared that I’d fail  or maybe he’d decide I wasn’t “good enough” for him.  But then we talked it out and it was so good to resolve things through the tears and confusion.

I love him SO much. And this gratitude feels so good, almost as good as being in his arms.

We are going to spend Thanksgiving with my family.  I’ve never taken a boyfriend to a family function, ever. I wish he could meet my mom so much. I think she’d approve. I’m looking forward to this milestone, and all the ones to follow.

Spinsterhag is turning into a grownup!