It has been so very long. Why did I stop writing? I think I feared something happening to me and my stuff getting read so I deleted every post. Also I just lost my writing mojo.
Thinking back to the P days, he wanted to read my blog, and I didn't want to share it with him. It wasn't so much that I had things to hide from him, but that I knew he would criticize my grammar, spelling, sentence structure and everything I said. That was one of the first red flags that I needed to reconsider giving my time and energy to him. Are we supposed to share everything with our partners? If you do, and your fear they will mock or dismiss what you share happens, is that telling you they are wrong for you? Or is this not a deal breaker and merely one of those relationship issues to be worked on?
It all ended badly. Each was at fault. Although I do miss him I don't want him back. This is something that i wasn't expecting. Over is over. But, I never disliked him as I did D. I could not longer deal with his hoarding and his selfishness. That last new year we spent together cinched it for me. It was glaringly clear he had literally no room for me. I was compartmentalized as something he used as it suited him. After that I really withdrew and was relieved that he stopped calling me very often and when he did, he hinted to borrow money from me. Worse, he said maybe I should get a gun and then 2 days latter, phoned making light of that. He knew that I have known two people who took their own lives, and yet, he made light of this. Was it selfish on my part to not want to share his money issues? After wasting my young adulthood with someone selfish and felt it was my job to help with the result of his stupid spending decisions; I could see that happening again and I got nervous. It took him a year of not bothering to ask me down there and not calling before he wrote me to say fine... I get it and then gave me hell. I withdrew and didn't even try to talk to him about how I was feeling. He was right to be hurt and angry about that. It was poor form on my part. But if he was able to be really honest with himself he would admit to his selfishness and his hoarding problem that made it a physically clear message that there was no room for me in his home. Bottom line, he was a pig and was oblivious to his terrible habits.
And yet now I find myself so lonely I could scream. It's not as if I suddenly flew into a crazy dating scene. Hardly. I don't get an ounce of male attention. An old broken doll. She had been once cute enough to be appealing and got roughly played with. Now there is no one who has a need for her so she sits in her corner, alone and confused as to why no one wants her.
A couple crushes but not reciprocated. Most days I feel invisible. If I didn't have the crushes I'd believe something was wrong with me. What is wrong with me is I'm almost 60 fucking years old and I live in a city and modern society that only values youth. My brain has it set that if only I was pretty it wouldn't be this way. Pretty people have attention all the time. They can pick and choose. I could say if I had money that would bring them around too but I would have too also be smart and astute to eliminate those that only wanted me for money. I'd sooner be wanted because I was pretty. I just want to be wanted.
I have a feeling that I hung onto both D & P for far too long because I knew no one of value would want me. I was putting off this being alone for as long as I could. Yes, this is depressing and just so you know, all comments that are mean, hurtful and cruel will be ignored. Your cowardness doesn't deserve a response.
This is going to be my only space to get this mess of feelings out. No one gets it and no one wants to hear it anyway.
My little granddaughter is another broken doll. So cute and funny and loves her Gam (me). She is turning 5 years old next Saturday and my heart breaks. She is non-verbal autistic. Funny, her and I click and communicate fairly easily anyways. Why did this happen to her and her parents? I give my daughter full credit for her perseverance and dedication to get A to a point that she will be going to kindergarten in regular school, albeit with an aid, in September.
There we are, one old, one young, dolls that society doesn't know how to deal with. So usually they get ignored. This old doll's highlight this weekend was when the young one was so excited to see me that she did a dance. A small thing for most, but it helped me forget my deep sense of being unwanted.
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