I think of myself as a positive person- I transitioned to a positive outlook after the agonizing ending of a relationship a few years back. It didn’t happen all at once; in fact, it took years to finally complete the transition. But, for the past five months or so, I really have lived within a positive lifestyle. My mind isn’t as quick to jump at harsh thoughts, about myself or others; I can breathe through yoga and meditation rather than anxiously crossing things off of my to do list; I avoid complaining and try to look for the good.
I actively engage in positive thinking daily- so why, if I can be so selfish as to ask this, do I feel lonely? I position myself at coffee shops, look men in the eye when I see them on campus, go out far more than I want with the hopes to meet someone. But the truth is I haven’t met anyone that’s been even close to worth it for me. I’m looking for the love that transports me, that’s a halcyon and a reality all at once. But I’m beginning to lose hope, and I’m worried that I’ll lose my positive thinking because of it. Not that I need to be in love to be happy or content- I’ve been blissfully happy for a very long time on my own. But I’m ready, I’m finally ready, to love someone again, to open my heart up in a tragically real way. And there seems to be no one reciprocating.
Which is why I find myself falling into the wrong arms…
There’s a cut on my upper lip that won’t let me forget, as if I could, as if he hasn’t been the only thought on my mind for 60 some hours.The cut is from his facial hair, but when I trace over it with my tongue I feel his eyes, the way ours connected the instant we met. I desired to know him at that first glance, despite my knowledge that he was unavailable. The heart sometimes knows no boundaries, overpowering any semi-rational brainwave. I don’t know the words that got us into that extra bedroom, or the moment that our lips finally met; I just know that I woke up next to him the next morning and felt joy. Not guilt. I could only register the sheer surprise of not being alone when I came back to consciousness- the wholeness in my chest that I’ve been yearning for.
But of course that morning ended. And now it’s as if it never happened. But I carry the snapshot memories- the few I can remember- right behind my eyelids, seeing them every time I lie down to sleep, every time I blink. Part of me wants to keep my eyes open forever, to not surrender to the succor of memory; but the majority of me desires to keep them shut all day, reliving the glee of togetherness, of having someone, of feeling thrilled by someone.
This doesn’t make sense. I’m a rational, positive, strong-willed, independent, intelligent woman- why could I not overpower my drunken desire for him? And even the worse, why is he still in my mind? Why do I feel so indefinitely tied to him?