I was wrong. He isn't Will. In fact, I'm about convinced that Will doesn't exist for me at all. I realize he's based on a fictional character, or a mixture of fictional characters, but I know people who have their own version of the friend for whom I've been hoping and searching most of my life. For some, he's a brother who is always there to give comfort, advice, encouragement, or to say or do just the right thing to bring out a smile. For some it's a father, an uncle, a cousin. For others it's just a friend; someone they met along the way who decided to keep sticking around to share love and life. I'm not talking about romance here. I'm talking about soul friends.
Anyone who has been around, reading my blog, for a while has heard me use this phrase before. I thought the weasel was a soul friend. Then I thought Bobpi was a soul friend. I was very wrong on both accounts. And now I'm wrong again. He doesn't need me, doesn't even really want me. I'm not significant to him...easily forgotten (out of sight, completely out of mind). If I was suddenly not around anymore, he may notice eventually, but it would take him a while. It was a mistake to think he cared, just because he showed up and said he cared...people say a lot of things, then change their mind when the moment ends. We've barely had any contact since last Monday night. He's too busy to remember me, too busy to care anything about me. Soul friends don't forget. Soul friends are never too busy to care and acknowledge.
So, I'm giving up on this idea of a soul friend. I'm giving up hoping that there is a person out there somewhere who will love me so deeply and purely that they are always there for me and always need me to be there for him. I'm giving up on the idea and the hope that someone will care enough about me to know me entirely and stick around to love me anyway. A friend like that doesn't exist for me...and I'm pretty sure a husband like that doesn't exist for me either.
I guess I keep thinking of What Dreams May Come. I'm in the dark right now. I'm struggling and on the days I don't work it's all I can do to get out of bed before noon. I'm so tired and so weary and I've completely lost my passion for anything (including writing)...because what's the point in caring about anything when you have no love in your life, no one really caring about you...or worse yet, no one to care about? In the movie, the woman is stuck in a hell of insanity, she is lost in the darkness and her love comes to find her and save her. When he finally realizes that he can't convince her to leave with him, he decides to give up his own sanity to stay with her. I'm not that far gone. I'm just struggling a little right now (nowhere near the verge of suicide) but it would be a lot better if I knew someone really and truly and deeply cared about me...and needed me to care about him.
This has been weighing so heavily on my mind and heart recently that I think I must be on the verge of something. I thought I had found my soul friend. Now I see that's not the case (most likely will never be the case). But maybe it's something else...some sort of career path or something. I don't know. I need to make some decisions, one of which is to be more than okay being alone because it seems that's how it's going to be for quite a while longer. How do you decide to be content, even happy, alone?
No comments:
Post a Comment