It feels so indulgent.
But, in doing a lot of packing and cleaning (I'm not moving anywhere yet, I just want to pack up things that I don't need in my way. I feel like I'm preparing to bolt at a moment's notice. It's a good feeling) I found a lot of pictures scattered around. I found pictures of Jason. I finally found out a few weeks back that he's still alive and in northern, VA so I can stop worrying that he's dead somewhere and it's somehow cosmically my fault.
Looking at these pictures of Jason I could remember when I actually loved him. And I could remember when him being here was so important to me. It's made me feel pretty sentimental (to the point where I almost sat down and wrote him a letter... but I stopped myself. I'm a sap, but I try not to be too stupid of a sap) and I've been thinking about connections and relationships and love and want and need and that whole... disgusting... wonderful... mess.
Most of my relationships have amounted to a waiting game. Just waiting for me to decide that there has to be something better out there, more fulfilling, completing. I think that generally, I've been right. But my methods have sucked *so* much. I've ripped a few people to pieces and felt self righteous and justified the whole time. Part of the problem is that I've been really really fucked up most of my life. This leads me to just say "okey dokey" and go along with it when some dude (usually some incredibly broken dude) gets it into his head that he wants me. I do it becuase I care about them and want them to be okay, I want to make them happy. Making them happy makes me happy for awhile. But then I start to resent them for only making me happy by proxy. I never talk about it, I just take it out on them. And then, it's just over. It's only a matter of time before they know it... but I always know it first.
In the few instances where I've been the one to really really dig the person, it's *always* a case of them not feeling the same about me. And I don't tend to fall for people who are fucked up the way I'm fucked up, so they don't feel the need to just give in and make me happy, and I'd be able to tell anyway and wouldn't want that as it would just make me feel worse, so I end up rejected and invariably end up with someone who will shower me with "love" and who really needs me. So that I can feel needed. To salve the burn.
And then the whole thing repeats itself.
None of this is anything new. I was just thinking about it tonight. I've discovered in the last couple of months that I have a confidence I didn't have a year ago. And I have uhm... for lack of a better word... *standards*. There are things I want and need and require and would just be nice. Not like... a list of them or anything. I'm not writing a thesis. Just qualities that I can *feel* when I'm in the presence of them.
Ever had someone touch your face and look at you? Just look at you, with their hand there on your cheek, touching lightly? Some people go through a whole life and are never touched like that. Some people go through an entire life and never touch someone like that. I find that incredibly sad. It's so ... hollywood. It's so movie-ish. But it happens. I know becuase I've done it.
I think the biggest problem we have as humans in general is that we don't have the guts to admit when something is precious to us. I know I'm guilty of it.
I found a shirt tonight while cleaning. It's a shirt in a plastic bag that I had from when Jason was around. He was just SO sentimental that he actually left me his shirt in a little bag so that I could have his smell around whenever I wanted it. I used to cherish that thing. I had forgotten about it. It makes me smile in a really sad way thinking about the lengths people will go to for what they thinks is love and for what they think isn't.
I've been a big ball of mush the last week or so. Just very emotional and emotionally open. Not in a soppy way, just in an honest way. And those standards have kicked in something fierce. I'm sick of subsisting on scraps. It's what I've done for years and I just can't do it anymore. I'm not ... declaring anything here. I'm not launching an attack on someone's heart or grabbing the bullhorn and trying to be heard. I've just decided some things. Gotten my priorities straight, I think. I'm so much better than I used to be. I'm better every day than I was the one before. I know this. A few of the people I know might know this (but I kind of doubt that), but until the day comes when someone can know me thoroughly and still be amazed at me; Can understand and care without without falling into detached psychology; Can actually love me when I cry at them for no discernable reason just as much as they love me when I'm the silly fool, I will be a happy and staunch bachelor.
Because until someone convinces me that they can do all that and more and still be just as deep and varied and new to me daily... they don't deserve me.
I have *huge* emotions. I am utterly defined by them. It's one of those things that I find myself apologizing for so often because apparently my passion is an embarassment.
I'm in a very open, good, free, full mood.
I love feeling this way.