Rewind

I’ve been feeling rather introspective the last few days. It may be the fact that the year is coming to a close and it’s about time for me to write my annual letters to myself. I write two at the end of every year: one to be opened in a year, the other to be opened in five. The first letter is about all the things that I hope (or fear) will happen over the next twelve months and the next delves into what’s actually going on in my life right now, how I feel about my own personal current events and what my general hopes, dreams and fears are. I use them as a tool to sort of keep in touch with myself, to measure my growth as a person and identify places in which I’m struggling. I find that without these sorts of tools I have a very distorted view of my past.
 
It’s funny how our memories become blurred over time. Mechanic called me last night. It was completely out of the blue and totally unexpected, especially since his brand new wife can’t stand the idea of him having any sort of relationship with exes. We chatted for well over an hour and after he hung up I decided to go back and read some of my old entries. I wanted to remind myself of what my life with him was really like. Unfortunately the vast majority of those entries were lost to the 9/11 hijacker, but there were still several that documented our struggles as our relationship wound to a close. It was interesting to go back and read about things that were so important to me back then and it was surreal to realize that I’m struggling with exactly the same issues today.
 
For the last few years I’ve been staunchly anti-marriage and anti-children. I’m realizing now that it was very much a defense mechanism. In my heart of hearts, I really don’t believe I’ll ever get married or have kids. For myriad reasons, I simply don’t think it’s in the cards for me. And yet, I can feel the desire sneaking up on me. I’ve been doing a lot of babysitting lately and I’ve fallen in love with the routine of making dinner, helping with homework and reading bedtime stories. There’s a sense of fulfillment that comes from the simplest things. I never knew how much I’d enjoy putting a little girl to bed and spending five minutes moving the door to and fro as she decides how much light she wants to stream in from the hallway. I find myself getting lost in the moment as I juggle the sizzling chicken on the stove with her need for help as she tries to read the directions to her homework. Even just last night, Angel called me up and asked if I would cook dinner for him so I happily ran into the kitchen to whip up chicken, veggies, biscuits and dessert. 
 
I love doting on people. I love serving. I crave intimacy and domesticity. I want to be able to make a comfortable home for myself and the people I love. And yet for the past several years I’ve tried to completely push that idea out of my mind. I don’t have enough faith in the Universe to believe that someday I’ll find someone who will stick around for the long haul. I blame this on my complete inability to be attracted to anyone who’s not an asshole as well as my dysfunctional tendencies. Though she was describing her own challenges, I couldn’t have put it any better than una luna did: "I tend to push people away instead of letting them naturally be drawn to me. I attach too hard, too fast. I expect too much and read into things that arent there. People dont usually like complicated. Or moody. So they leave. Which feeds the insecurities. But its always my own fault. I know it is. Still the cycle pushes on."
 
That quote stole my breath. I feel like it did a perfect job of describing my personal form of dysfunction. If I ever do come across someone that I want to be with for the rest of my life, I can’t imagine that I won’t do a great job of pushing them away. Why waste the time and heartache dreaming about something I’ll never be able to achieve? I’m thankful that I’ve got other interests that bring me satisfaction, but as I mentioned in my last entry I’ve been seriously thinking about pushing them to the back burner. So if I’m not raising a family, if I’m not making a happy home for a husband, if I’m not pursuing my dream career… What’s left? Maybe there’s a surprise just around the corner.