Thursday, 10 November 2011

Destination: Eternal life as a dog-lady




Last night, I went home.

Home-home, family-home; proper home; the home where you walk in and get accosted by two yowling, squeaking labradors. Home with a bed which is infinitely more comfortable than the other one, with the pillow equivalent of "Come here, pet. Give us a hug". Home to the aptly named "snuggle chair", which comfortably fits two; in my case, me and a dog.

Sometimes I have to go home because this bit of life - the single girl does London, with new housemates, new commute, new freedom, challenging job - it all piles up. And a little trip back home for the night can help to clear the head.

One thing on my mind is this late but fairly draining stage of the break-up proceedings: the bit where you're increasingly aware of time passing (soon, it'll be a year since we signed the flat contract), and conflicts that still remain.

There's the almost constant worry of why, after nine months, the idea of anyone else half terrifies me. Half, because one side wants the excitement, the stories, the supposing, the texts and the fun, but the other side won't even allow me to hold eye contact - let alone a remotely leading conversation - with a bloke in order to get it.

It's wanting to take this chance to enjoy life on my own for a bit - which by and large I do - but in doing so, not shut out any possibilities by having this huge barrier constantly going up when there's talk or thought of something more.

All this is compounded by the knowledge that soon, it will have been a year. And as much as I've made tracks in a lot of areas of life, some, like this elephant in the room with my friends when they're talking about meeting boys and or at the very least, gleaning interest from them, and I'm not - are very much packed away and hidden by my brazen, self-assured announcements about how happy I am on my own.

Which I am.

See? There I go again.

Anyway, after my little overnight stay I got on the train to work this morning, and was struck by a sentence in a book I'm reading, which seemed to fit the bill.

"It's not that I don't want you, it's that I'm afraid of wanting only you, and finding that there's nothing left of me."

And somehow, to me, that sort of makes sense. 

12 comments:

Brennig said...

insert twitter conversation here

pinkjellybaby said...

It makes sense to me too. It took me almost a year to consider someone else, and that didn't go too well for me but at least I knew I was more open to the possibility. I don't think it matters how much time passes, it's just when it feels ok, there's no need to rush it.

I'm two years down the line and even now, the possibility that I might meet someone I like is utterly terrifying.

Blonde said...

Couldn't agree with you more - either on the needing to escape to an oasis for a little time out, and the fact that, actually, putting so much of your life into someone else's hands is terrifying. And the prospect of getting hurt - or, worse, getting lost - is excruciatingly terrifying.

But you're not alone there, and I think it's ok to be a bit terrified, so long as you don't let it paralyse you. Which I don't think you have.

Oof. This life malarky's tricky sometimes. x

Eleni Zoe said...

I've been reading for awhile so I thought it was high time I left a comment. I loved that line from Essays In Love. And I can relate to it so much.

Sometimes I spend so much time convincing myself that I'm happy alone (because of course, I am.) That I forget it's beside the point.

I still want to be in love. But...it's hard to imagine getting to that place. Yea, I got nothin'. :)

Brennig said...

Oh, and on the subject of 'others'... My friend Neil (who shall remain nameless) 'found' a girl 6 weeks after his LTLP legged it with another chap. The girl he found lives 6,000 miles away. They've kept on working at their relationship via internet and occasional physical visits. And they're getting married early next year.

I think things just happen and when they do happen... that's it. It doesn't matter what we want or don't want, like or don't like. It also doesn't matter how emotionally raw we're feeling. It's going to happen when it happens and that's all there is to it.

So don't fret or sweat it. Relax. Enjoy the good times. They'll continue to get better.

Ellie said...

Won't even let you hold eye contact. I know that one.

modelofamodernmajorgeneral said...

My labrador currently thinks it is appropriate to climb into bed with me when she's cold in the middle of the night. It's not that it's not cute, it's just bloody uncomfy when I have a duvet-rustling wife, and then a dog on top - frankly I'm going have to start using my sleeping bag to remain warm.

That said, the hound is on the sofa with me, sharing my lap with the computer; who says I'm a soft touch?!

As for the other thing... Be gentle on yourself. You are beautiful, intelligent and precious. Don't feel anything has to happen just because it's a day 365 days after another day. Hug your hounds, there is enough love there to get you through many years.

treacle said...

You. You shine so bright, how could anyone else make you dull and take you away?

Real love doesn't do that anyway...and it comes to find you when the time is right. You're ace. That is all. x

Arielle said...

I think that's exactly how you need to go about it - take as much time as you need, no matter how much you may feel as though you're "supposed" to be getting back out there. I think the worst thing you can do is to jump into another relationship before you're ready because otherwise, you DO lose your sense of self. You need to be comfortable in your independence before you can really be in a healthy relationship (trust me, I have a ton of friends who don't follow this advice and it's not pretty).

Scabby Knees said...

Ah the healing powers of home and doggles.

I know this post break up feeling well. I regularly wonder why the passing time hasn't got rid of the desire to flee from men and ask myself why I'm not "better" yet. Especially as like you, a big part of me wants the firting and the excitement of meeting someone but my eyes still drop to my feet when men look at me.

Like everyone has said, things happen when they happen. One day you'll be talking to a man and suddenly realise you have a stomach full of butterflies and his smile makes you feel giddy. I firmly believe meeting someone lovely trumps The Fear. x

Please Don't Eat With Your Mouth Open said...

Brennig - I've always subscribed to the thought that "when it happens, it happens" and I'm cool with that, just I can't help thinking something else should be happening inbetween.

PJB - I think a lot stems from being horrendously heartbroken, and not wanting ever to feel that way again. But as I've said before, ain't like we're owed anything, is it?

Blonde - Life's tricky, love's tricky, but happily, returning home for a curry with the 'rents is slightly less so.

Eleni Zoe - You're right, it is besides the point. And we are happy alone, and also know that love isn't the be all and end all as a result, but it doesn't stop the feeling that we should have it in our lives.

Ellie - It's a killer. I feel the awkwardness in my chest.

Model - Always with the lovely words. Thank you. Our labs aren't allowed upstairs at night, but that in no way stops them sneaking up in the morning for a hop up on the bed. Scamps.

treacle - More lovely words. Thank you, I like that first sentence.x

Arielle - You and me both. It's almost this reluctance to get with anyone else at all which is the problem. It's hard to not feel like you're "supposed to".

Scabby knees - spot on with the use of the word "better". I feel like an invalid. LIke there's something wrong with me for not surrounding myself with adoring men. Time is all...

Mud said...

Its amazing the difference a dog makes. Wish I had one for a cuddle! x

 

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