I want someone to make up silly dances with.
I want someone to sing duets with that are so out of tune, only because it is fun.
I want someone to see my scars, both my physical and emotional ones and still think that I’m beautiful.
I want someone to genuinely think that I am beautiful.
I want someone to cuddle with on the couch or in bed as I so desperately wish I could do in this moment as I’m suffering from loneliness and a heavy heart.
I want someone I can spend my Sunday afternoon with reading on the sofa.
I want someone who understands sarcasm and irony.
I want someone who can take me down a notch when I need it.
I just want someone.
I’m afraid that all my expectations are too high and that I’m setting myself up for disappointment as I am so prone to do. I know I will never have this because I don’t see how I can ever let someone in enough for all of the above. To get past the “interested in”-phase.
There is an invisible physical barrier that I can’t cross because I can’t grasp it and thus can’t find my way around. I have deeper relationships with TV shows than with women because I simply don’t get it.
When do you know that what you think and feel is actual love and not just some fleeting feeling?
How can you let your guards down enough because you have faith the other person won’t shatter you into pieces?
How can you be that trusting?
How do you flirt with someone?
How do you even find out if you’re on the same page?
I don’t know.
I guess these are things I will never conquer with logic because it’s all subjective. Maybe even trying to apply logic is what makes me ultimately fail at this but I just don’t see another way.
My problem is that I have too much time to think about all of this. Every time I think I have made my peace with it all, this comes bubbling up again. I watch couples and ask myself how they got to where they are now. How they knew. And what keeps them from just not being in love with each other.
I’m waiting for signs, empirical data I can review and file away. To pull up again as needed like scientific research to reassure me when needed and learn from. I want to express all of this in person to someone who can maybe actually tell me I’m not an idiot or give me solid advice. But I can’t. I’m only good in written form.
I won’t just take your hand because I’m scared this is not what I thought it would be, what you thought it would be.
I won’t kiss you while trapping you against the wall in the hallways because what if I ruin things and misinterpret them.
I won’t wrap my arms around you from behind, put my head on your shoulder because I’m scared of the intimacy I so desperately crave.
In the end, I’m immobilised by fear.
Fear of being proven wrong; of being wrong.
I should just go to bed because I always make dumb decisions, reveal too much about myself while my brain is tired and my guards are down. I write down all that’s bothering me, hoping the publish button will set me free and even though it does in tiny portions I also know that I am turning in circles. That this is the umpteenth post about this subject and that everyone must be as fed up with this by now as I am and yet I AM STILL TYPING!
I am one giant bag of commitment issues. Unless you are a TV show, then we’re good as long as you stay interesting and feature pretty people.