She Will Be Loved

I was IM-ing my friend this afternoon. We were laughing at the hilariousness of the WholeFoods even I mentioned earlier (see below).

Out of no where she came to a revelation:

Annie, I think we both need to make some MAJOR changes.

*Thump* Her words fell like a stone, ripping away at my self-awareness and confidence.

To be candid, I've never dated nor been kissed. It has been a subject that has brought me profound pride (in not falling into the ridiculous OC-inspiring love triangles I witnessed in high school) and, at the same time, has left me disillusioned. In the same breath I've comforted and flogged myself and wondered if something really was wrong with me. Am I THAT horrid? That frigid or odd that boys wedge 12-foot poles between us?

And, if I'm to be even more candid, I must realize that I am scarred and afraid to let someone in and let myself become undone by him.

Very few know this, but my father was notorious for his wandering eye. (It was the reason my mom filed for divorce 10 years ago.) Throughout their marriage he secretly courted other women, doting on them with the attention, gifts and time that should have been ours. We were dealt the short end of the stick. The loving father I knew as a child devolved into a beastly stranger. Dr. Jekyll became Mr. Hyde when my brother and I reached puberty.

And the curious thing was that my mom knew what was at the core of this change in him. She knew from the very beginning, heard from family acquaintances about his frequent meetings with this woman or that. And yet, with hopeful desperation, she convinced herself that he'd change, he'd come around. He never did.

He's still with the woman my mom once loved as a sister. While she and her children enjoyed his love and devotion, my brother and I became nothing more than platonic relations in his life. At first he came to visit on birthdays and on Christmas. Then it was Christmas and one of our birthdays. Then just a birthday or Christmas. Then... nothing. Not a phone call. Not even a card. Like that, he disappeared into the fog.

His absence and decision to break free from us, has burned a hole in me that I sometimes fear is so deep and so jagged, I might never be healed completely. There will always be a small tear in my heart, one that will, every now and then, let pain and jadedness seep in like acid on a fresh wound. I have been left a bit insecure and a lot jaded and suspicious.

Sometimes I feel like a wounded dog limping along foreign streets. I wimper and with sad eyes plead for help, but, if you come too close and I'm not ready, I bite... too stupid to see the difference between the hand that brings healing and the one that inflicted my wounds.

And I fear this wound will (and is) keeping me from finding my happily-ever-after, from finding and welcoming love.

I wonder at missed opportunities I just couldn't see because I was too focused on licking my wounds. I wonder if there will ever be someone out there who can love this mess in me. I wonder if I'll ever let my guard down long enough to let someone in.. all the way in... into the madness and stormy seas within me. I wonder if I can ever love someone, if I even know how to love. Who can love this? Who will love... me?