I don't believe anymore
The last couple of days I've had an epiphany but had to get some questions answered. I reached out to an ex. I got together and talked with him. I had never gotten closure and still had feelings for him. I am currently living with new partner that I'm not happy with. I think my problem is...at 46, I still want the Hallmark romances. I still have fantasies and dreams of that knight riding in to save me. I refused to give into not believing however looking back at my life, I've had everything but that. I'm constantly in pursuit of men who are not available...whether it be emotionally or otherwise. I don't think any of it exist. I'm just telling myself now that it doesn't so I'm not in denial. It's a poster on the wall I must build to move on. Needless to say, I went and talked to my ex, and after talking with him I came home and thought about the things that were discussed. I try and force fits, I wanted him to be the one but saw him with different eyes. He's the life of the party, a potential womanizer and can't be chained down to one woman and I myself are never content, always wanting more. I saw that all. I woke up this morning, tried to text him and tell him I wanted to be his friend, that he's moving and things wouldn't work out for us. He got mad and cut me with his harsh words that he always does.
I know by talking with him, I have put my stability at risk, but, I had to know and needed closure. Whatever the universe has prepared for me either good or bad, I will take but at least now I know..love doesn't exist.
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I feel almost like I should feel guilty for sorting my own romantic confusions here in *your* therapy journal. A quiet need whispers healing hopes for all. No exceptions.
I honestly donae believe I have a romantic bone in my body. Allowing for error margins in the confusing task of psycho sorting, I wonder if I am *really* as romantic as a feminine stereotype and my own most unrequited romantic delusion to be that I really am a scientist by nature. My analytic view of the Hallmark Romance centers on an early observation that the male collectors and producers of my child prostitute world always seemed to be tied to women who collected romance novels and magazines To my childhood conditioning, Porn and Romance were two sides of the same coin. I started calling Romance Lit, "Housewife Porn" pretty early in my prostitution/porn career. I am clueless whether I coined the term or acquired it from my mentors, johns and janes. I remain far from certain how much of my "most unattractive" views of those views from the social cesspools are logical and how many are psychotic justification for cruelty.
My most confident belief is that ^it^ be a complex weave of psychosnot knots. Taking ^it^ one snot knot at a time and sorting. . .
A less confident wonder is whether "True Love" has anything to do with those civilized cesspools. For sure, my daddy said it did when he was giving my 10 siblings and I our sex education. Quite allot of the folks of both genders who rented time with my body said so, too.
Again I indulge in an appeal to my Fairy Godmother. . . I wish life could be simple and easy to understand. My Fairy Godmother hasn't answered me yet, but ? ? ? Still wishing. . . Ya never can tell.