Don’t look back

I never, she never, we never looked back
That wasn’t what we were good at
And when it came to love
We were not good enough.
–Lumineers/Slow It Down

Not being good enough for love is something I think about a lot. Too much, probably. Like everything else I think about. Overthink about.

Love is more important than most of the things I obsess about, though. Maybe it’s because I had it at such a young age, or at such an impressionable age…but I know what I’m missing when I don’t have it. I know what it is, or at least what I think it is. (Not particularly confident about what I do and do not know tonight, it would seem)

And I figure there must be something that I do wrong. There’s this wonderful thing, and I blow it. Or it would be there if I did more or less of something. If I was thinner or more charming or athletic. If I could make small talk. Or any talk at all. If I could be less needy or less independent. If I could be better at..whatever it is..then I wouldn’t have to hear that it’s not me, it’s him. Logically, of course, I know that is wrong.

Particularly because I think I’ve done something wrong whether it’s me who doesn’t love someone or if someone doesn’t love me. Either way. My fault. Because if I don’t love someone who is a perfectly wonderful person, it must be me. Something wrong with me. Some flaw that rejects love unless it isn’t returned.

Which is…it just makes me…
Ugh.
Crazy.

Although it is also kind of, possibly, true. Partially, anyway.

Normally there are at least two sides to every story, and even in the most obviously bad scenario there is something not working on both sides. Not necessarily wrong with me or them but that just doesn’t work when we get put together. Anyone older than 20 has probably been there, in the “it’s not you it’s me” zone. I’ve been on both sides of it. It sucks.

I think I might be on both sides of it now.

I think I might always be. There’s a happy thought.

The thing that is so tricky is that many of us are at cross purposes. We do things convinced of what someone thinks or feels and we may be wrong about it. We tell each other what we think we want or need to hear, all based on thoughts and feelings that might be wrong. How often would just being open about what we’re thinking make it better?

Sure, sometimes it would be awkward or hard. Sometimes it would result in hurt feelings. But not saying things does too.

In the zone I am in right now, it’s kind of a no win.
Positivity is there but it has been a little hard to maintain in the last few days.

It’ll be back.
No, I am not about to burst into a rousing version of “Tomorrow” from the musical “Annie.”

I am just trying to not look back or forward but be where I am and in the present. And smile.

Maybe tomorrow I will go ice skating. It’s hard to be mopey when you’re breaking your wrists falling down on the ice!

%d bloggers like this: