Divisions and Precisions

From a Distance

The poetry quote is in honor of me reading Stephen King's Dark Tower books for the umpteen millionth time. Wonderful wonderful books. Wizard and Glass, the most recent book so far, makes me happy and sad in ways I find difficult to describe. There's a certain inevitability to the story, even though I always hope it will turn out differently.

Tales of tragic true love always just tear me into itty bitty pieces. I'm a sucker for them. Heck, if you've peeked over at the MUSH page at all, or any of the scene logs linked from there, you'll see that I've played out more than a few of those tales myself. (Changeling is completely ideal for this sort of thing.) The more epic the better. As cynical as I get about love from time to time, deep down in my heart I'm the biggest, soppiest romantic you'll ever meet. I hate it sometimes.

I hate it, because I have a tendency to live out that sort of drama in real life. When I fall in love, I'm head over heels. You know the song from Grease, "Hopelessly Devoted to You"? That's me all over. I dote, I adore, I obsess.

And inevitably, the object of my affections is someone who, in some way, is unavailable.

I love best when I love from afar. I've been realizing lately just how much of my life is dedicated to keeping people at arm's length. The people I am closest to are the ones who are farthest away from me. There is really no one I see day to day that I'm really close to. Everything about me is designed to keep people away. A lot of people would say that explains a good bit of my weight-related issues, and I'm inclined to think they're right.

I do intimacy best when I'm not face to face all the time. Occasional visits are good. More than that, I apparently can't handle.

It's a strange issue, really. My heart hurts when the people I love best are the people I rarely see, and yet, I've chosen that. I always have. The vast majority of my serious romantic relationships have been long distance, at least at some point. My very first boyfriend lived 500 miles away from me. I complain and whine about being single, and yet I run from any situation that might result in a relationship. Or I try to form a relationship with someone completely wrong.

I post a detailed account of my own battle with mental illness on the internet, and yet I can't call my mom and tell her when I'm feeling depressed.

What does all this mean? I don't know, honestly. Somewhere along the line I got afraid of letting people who see me all the time in, maybe. Insecurity getting in the way of forming relationships. And yet, I do form relationships. Real ones. Close ones.

Why am I telling you this? I don't know that either. Trying to clear it out of my head. I've been thinking about it a lot this week. Trying to understand why I am the way I am. Understanding is the first step toward resolving the problem, I think.

Because this is a problem. Posted by Lisa at May 26, 2000 06:13 PM