When you realize you’re a caught in a loop

I realized the other day that I am a masochist. I thought to myself at my moment of realization, "well, at least, I’m only so in the emotional sense, not the physical," but then I realized that I might be worse off.

I was sitting alone when it dawned on me that if my ex, the damn artist, came back to me and said that he didn’t care about our problems, that he didn’t care about our issues, that he would always love me… I would jump right back into his skinny arms. Fuck me, I thought, I am a fucking masochist.

Why do I want the one thing that brought me as much pain as all other relationship pains combined? Why would I be with the ONE person who can and has hurt me more deeply and devastatingly than anyone else has come close to doing?

I left him! Why do I feel like he left me, and somewhere buried deep in my heart, I’m waiting for him to come back? Just this week, I sent him a text message to ask about an artist whose name I’d forgotten and when he called me back, my stomach was twisted into knots and was for the rest of the day. It kills me to think about him living with his steady-she-takes-care-of-me-and-loves-me girlfriend. I know he doesn’t like to think of me with other men, but where I would have thrown everything out to be together, he wouldn’t have.

And that’s why I left. And that’s why I feel like he left me. Because I knew that if I didn’t leave, one day he would have. And he wept in my arms about not being good enough for me, and yet, I didn’t want him to be good enough. I wanted to not be the second best option.

This isn’t love. This isn’t some movie romance where we end up together after it all. This is real life where we move on with our emotional bruises and scars, and I realize that I must be a masochist because those injuries draw me back time and again. There isn’t enough good in that relationship to pull me back so it has to be the agony.

Perhaps I should become an artist. Then I have an excuse for wanting to seek out my personal agony – to make great art. Yet, in the end, I simply wallow in the dark, alone.

Dreaming of men...

I don’t know what it is about my subconscious, but it seems to decide to conjure up the most bizarre scenarios involving men.

Last night, I had a dream that I was in a room, sitting on a couch, and opposite me was my college colleague/2-time fling, my ex-boyfriend artist, and another college colleague/one-time interest. I was uninterested in the artist who I’ve always considered to be the love of my life (who I’ve dreamed about many a time – and we’re always breaking up or moving apart when I do), but I was into my 2-time fling (who happens to have been pursuing sex with me this summer). I ended up kissing the fling in front of the third guy who is a mutual friend of ours who was understandably shocked and confused by the interaction.

It was all so real and bizarre. I’ve gone through a break up where my dreams were so realistic and heart-breaking that I would wake up irrevocably depressed. I’ve had vivid dreams about sex with friends who I’ve never looked at sexually. I’ve dreamed of being pregnant and going baby clothes shopping with someone that I was horrified to be pregnant by. And many other bizarre incarnations of men I know.

The thing is that these dreams are all the same variety – strikingly real, regarding men, and burning in my mind when I wake up. I don’t know what I dream about and don’t remember, but these visions of men dance through my brain in stark contrast to dreamlike sequences I’d prefer to experience in my sleep.

What strikes me about these dreams is the visceral experience that they leave with me. I am physically and emotionally drawn into their false world and I can’t shake the feelings when I stumble back to being awake. It’s beyond my ability to comprehend the implications of this particular facet of my brain, but I wish that I had some answer for the lingering feelings I have when I wake up…

Taste of humble pie...

So, I had a new experience this last weekend… and it wasn’t a pleasant one, to say the least.

Now, I’m going to be honest here (as I always am). I’m a little vain. I’m pretty much used to guys that I go for responding positively and while I’ve had guys who’ve decided that things weren’t moving forward, I’ve never really been outright rejected.

And last weekend, I was. It was harsh.

This guy who I’ve been sleeping with for the last month or so basically told me that he “couldn’t see himself fall in love with me, so he wasn’t interested anymore” and that it was basically like “that book, He’s Just Not That Into You.”

Yeesh! I mean, I never expected/wanted a relationship and he’s not the type of guy I would fall for, in fact, I was just in it for the sex. I consider myself an excellent partner, so it’s a blow to the ego to have a guy who turns down what was essentially a “friends with benefits” arrangement. I know that occasionally (aka 2x) over the past two months I asked if he wanted to hang out and he said no, but I also had times where I wasn’t available to get together.

I think the surprise was in the sudden change. I mean, we hung out a week ago from last weekend and everything was fine Friday night, but when Saturday rolled around, I could tell something was different. We didn’t talk all week and when I texted him Saturday night (per his direction) he gave me the you-no-longer-interest-me speech (via text).

It hurt because I don’t like being rejected. Especially because I was being rejected when I didn’t even want to DATE him, let alone pursue anything close to love. But in the end, I think a little humility is good for me, and sometimes, even a mean text can help me stay grounded. ;-)