Reflections in a Tea of Sympathy
"Everything wanna be loved. Us sing and dance, and holla just wanting to be loved. Look at them trees. Notice how the trees do everything people do to get attention... except walk?"----Shug Avery, The Color Purple (1985)
It is said that Einstein defined insanity as doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. These words ring especially true for me as I've spent the last 15 years picking a scab and expecting it to heal, but there it remains.
My scab can't be seen with the naked eye but there it is, that indefinable mark on me which in some way repels men, makes me untouchable, unfuckable, undeserving of love and affection. But where is it? Is it behind the windows of my eyes, does it abide in the depths of my soul? Where is it?
I've done so many stupid things in my life trying to heal this wound with the elusive panacea called love. I won't go into detail about my failures, in fact I'd much rather just forget about all these things that I've done. Trust me when I say I've done some stupid, stupid things. And now here I am 15 years later, a few months from my 35th birthday and I'm no more wiser or successful for all my mistakes.
My mother used to brag about how I spoiled her because she could always put me in my crib and I wouldn't cry to be held or played with--only when I was hungry or needed to be change. Maybe that's why I crave intimacy so much, maybe that's where I learned that food equals love (which it doesn't).
Honestly the older I get the happier I am being alone, but there are still those fleeting moments when lonliness and the desire for human contact gets to me. Granted, the older I get the fewer and farther between these times come. I had such low expectations for my life, and even with setting the bar so low, I failed. All I ever wanted was to meet a good man who'd be nice to me, settle down in a house all our own and be...well a housewife ...for lack of a better term.
I used to rationalize my single status by thinking that had my dream come true, I would not have done the work that I did (at the time I was a volunteer with the South Carolina Department of Corrections teaching Wicca 101 to inmates all over the state) as I would probably give 100 percent of myself to my relationship. I got a great deal of satisfaction (and yes attention) from that work, but now I don't have anything to fill that void.
It's not just men either. I haven't really got a great number of friends, not even a few. I have "work friends" but no one that I socialize with away from my job. Sometimes I get scared that I'll die in my home and no one will know. I have Sunflower and he is the sunshine of my life. It's been an honor and a priveledge being a part of his life, watching him grow up, and being the recipient of his un-conditional love; but he and Sloe will be moving away next year back to South Carolina and I know in my heart that I'll never see him again. Maybe if I pester him enough Sloe will send me pictures and ofcourse I'll talk to him on the phone and send him letters, but it won't be the same without Sunflower there to give me big hugs every week.
So, I've pretty much consigned myself to being an old maid. I'll be that creepy old guy in the neighborhood that all the kids are afraid of. I can look forward to my home being tp'ed every Halloween, or stomping out burning feces on my front porch or whatever the hell else kids do these day to screw with old people. At least, I'll have fun playing on their fears....lol