You are saying what I'm thinking. "Hard to carry on a meaningful relationship a thousand miles away. Feel like I'm in a holding pattern. Think of you daily. Will the planets ever align for us?"
I feel the same way. I feel as if I'm going through each day waiting for something to happen. Waiting for the catalyst that will allow me to know you want me, need me, desire for me to make a move, a decision. Changing scares me, staying in one place scares me. I don't trust anyone else, and I don't trust myself. I feel like any decision I make is going to be the wrong one.
I wrote a poem once:
If everyone wants to be loved so much,
why does everyone fight the state of it.
I am so strong about so many things and so resigned to others. Will there ever be anyone in my life that stays. Will there ever be anyone who loves me, cares for me, wants me. I want happily forever after, not a quickie that lasts until the sex becomes too comfortable.
Every day is a fight to write an email, to hope against hope for a someday, maybe, could be, when the planets align and your therapist says its ok future with you, to wonder if there will be another email in my inbox, or can I call, is there a possibility of seeing you and what will you say - when will you decide it's too much trouble and simply stop making the effort. Is it today, will it be tomorrow, what does it mean when a week goes by without a message. Don't get too close, don't make too many plans, don't have too many wishes - because they don't ever come true.
The Peter Principle, the Cinderella complex, there's a dozen books about it - but they all say the same thing. You can't change another person. And don't get into a relationship thinking that you can. You are the first to tell me that you can't sustain a relationship. I'm the first to know that it is true - three times true as a matter of fact. I can't make you someone and something you're not. I've always held onto the dream that someday you'll tell me you've evolved yourself. That you're ready for me. That you've told the therapist to go flush his head down a toilet - you're going to do what you want about me. That your head, your heart, and your arms are open and waiting. All I have to do is come into them.
That's the real of it. That's the sad of it. That's what my sighs are made of. And maybe that's why the occasional love letter can be more important than you imagine - to both of us.
A&F
Anna
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