Dark Spaces

More quote talk from the book I’m reading:

They were the people you called with news: I met a guy. I’m engaged. I got a new job. To share the highs and the lows. But friends to call for the deep things, the things that live in the dark spaces of our hearts? Those people didn’t exist for me any longer. Not since I’d left Cooley Ridge.”

I think I’ve had the opposite experience. I’m not sure those people existed for me until more recently, and I think I’m still struggling with how to actually maintain those kinds of friendships, let alone allow them to exist at all. Yet, in all honesty, that’s all I’ve ever wanted, and definitely what I need now. Yet I fight them; push them back; keep them at a safe distance. Battle both for and against what I most want and need. And I do so in particular against the human beings I most want and need them with.

It’s no wonder that romantic relationships don’t progress past a certain point with me. I tend to keep those at an even safer distance. I’m not sure if it’s to protect others from me, or me from others, or some sad combination of both.

The things that live in the dark spaces of this heart don’t typically get shared. Sometimes not even really admitted to within any other spaces of my heart or mind. Or acknowledged. I think that’s more accurate than admitted.

I think speaking with my therapist helps. My first one, and my current one, anyway. There were others in between, but they were not the same at all. I don’t choose to whom I wish to reveal certain things, exactly. It’s more a matter of how safe and confident I feel with them. But I am definitely picky when it comes to who I actually open up those darker spaces to.

That was a terrible sentence, I realize. However…moving on.

It needs to be a perfect storm, pretty much. There are those I wish to be more open with, there are those who wish for me to be more open with them. But the rare combination of locating both qualities within the same individual is almost unheard of in my world. Even with therapists. I’ve been lucky, in that two of the four I’ve worked with so far have been those amazing rare people for me.

Now I just have to find one of those that don’t require me to pay them. The trick with those people, however, is that not only are they so difficult to find, but they’re also easier to lose.

Temporary

So now it’s November.

Nearly the end of the year. But – for me – so much closer to getting to see my polar bear love again!

You never really forget your first, right?

Things are just as crazy and overwhelming today as they have been lately. I’ve made a few tiny shifts in hopefully the right direction, but for the most part, I’m still struggling. I don’t even talk to my friends about most of it, let alone feel inclined to post anything on here. I’ll figure it out, though. Tiny shift by tiny shift. 🙂

I did write limericks for/about some of my coworkers today, too. That was fun!

I’ve been keeping more quotes from the book I’m currently reading, so I’ll continue to write a bit about them as I go along, too.

Like this one, which is kind of apropos for a day like this: “I stared at my phone, wondering whom to call to ground myself. The truth is, I’m not good at close friends. I’m great at casual, at meeting up after work and bringing lasagna to the potluck. I’m excellent at being friends with (her boyfriend’s) friends. But not at exchanging numbers and calling up just to talk.”

I haven’t brought lasagna to the potluck as of yet…though I could. Usually I just go for something quick and easy and pre-made, though. I mean, that’s how my everyday life is, at least when it comes to food. Why would a potluck be any different, really?

I remember when I was in school I felt like my friendships were temporary. They could be so intense and present and fulfilling for a time, but as soon as we weren’t in the same class anymore, and didn’t see one another every day, it became more difficult to sustain; to nurture. Nothing had happened to push us apart, yet the connection was weakened, and we’d each move on to the next thing.

I think I came to view all friendships – and thus relationships – as temporary things. I’d still try to hold onto them, but the further apart we’d drift, the more difficult it was to maintain any sort of grip. Physically, emotionally, mentally – the distance between us would grow no matter what I did to prevent it. The friendship wouldn’t be over, of course. Just different.

Outside of school, the majority of my friends have come through the workplace, which makes them just as temporary in their intensity as the others. People move on. It’s what we do.

And I’m not sure there’s anything wrong with that, or that I wish it was any different.

Most of the time I don’t even notice. Just those moments when I want to talk to someone who can help me ground myself, and I don’t know who that person is at that point in life. It’d be nice to have one who was constant.

On the other hand, though, maybe that’s the too easy solution – to just have the answer without having to keep growing and changing and adapting and meeting new people and forging new things.

Maybe constants make us lazy!