A challenge lives in my home

There is a some thing someone can say or quote about houseguests. Something relating them to fish. I feel terrible. I feel guilty. I feel like a bad host.

But I also feel like I haven’t been listened to – I feel like I’ve been expected to be stagnant, untouched and unmoved – no steps forward – as I was at last visit. I feel like I’ve been expected to go along with whatever because the times we see each other are few and far between. I feel like my needs are not important.

I am pondering what I could have done more or better. I am feeling a little guilty because maybe I haven’t been adamant enough. However, I don’t want to have to make a big scene over someone listening or accepting my feelings or concerns. Am I sabotaging? It is possible.

I’m not ready for any form of romance. I’m simply not interested. Over the last few days I’ve felt guilty for working and I’ve given up some of my daily rituals. I have introduced substances into my body that I normally wouldn’t – I’m cleansing today and I’m starting to feel better.

I am surprised to have written the paragraph above.

We are lacking a connection. Conversation is like pulling teeth. I’ve gotten to the point where it is hard to look at him. I never thought I’d feel this way. I have found my jaw clenched – an usual state. My shoulders and my back are tight. I want my space back. It is a matter of a few days.

It feels like I’ve been set back. My life does not continue per usual. It feels like I’m losing time on the things that are important to me. Maybe this visit is placed to show me my priorities – without a shadow of a doubt. It feels good to know what my priorities are and for the first time in a long time, I like my priorities.

I feel happily and contently solo – any semblance of romance or partnership is more like a fly buzzing around my desk. It is unusual for me to be dismissive in this way. I like being around people who are inspired by their craft. They put it first and they work at it daily because without it, they have a void.

It seems I’ve gone through or am coming out of a transformation. The connection I had with my home and the people there seems to fade into echoes more and more. While I’m sad to watch this, I actively allow it to happen. My life feels more full and inspired than it ever did. I’m enjoying control and my work. I work often, but it does not feel like work. It feels like my thing to do that day. When people in my life call my life “hard” or “difficult” or they say they are proud of me, I cannot help but feel sorry for them. I am grateful for the love and support, but it misses the mark. These remarks lead me to believe these people lead unenthused lives. They talk about work as if it is a chore or something to be avoided and evaded at every opportunity. It makes my eyes squinty and my neck bendy toward them.

I am disappointed in myself that I haven’t more vehemently expressed myself. But in the same moment I feel like that vehement telling is from an old version of myself. In the moment, I am content to express myself and immediately disconnect from the statement. Sometimes the other party moves along without ever having heard what I said – in most instances this does not bother me. I am looking for the active people. The alive people. I know there are out there, but I haven’t found them, yet. There are a few people who are very much the kind of person with whom I’d like to surround myself – but there is time and distance.

I’m looking for natural, easy relationships to enrich my life. My ex said he missed intuitive relationships. I was stunned at the statement. It was so succinct and the idea was pure. And I felt relief because he understood. And it made me feel understood. And I felt safe. A relaxed breath washed through my body.

To this day I am bothered by the poor reception he and I experienced in the beginning of our relationship. I remember people who I thought were my friends telling me to “BEWARE” – but no one could or would tell me of what, so I ignored them. Turns out, I did figure it out. He does have a pattern of behavior that can be harmful. And I experienced that first hand. But there is something to recognizing the pattern. After enough time I accepted him for who he is – I worry he has not accepted himself for who he is yet – I do not know if he has given himself permission to be who he is – I hope he does. It is ok to rip up the script. It is difficult to break from convention when personal relationships are at stake, but I think it is worth it. I still evaluate the statements my friends made about this person. I see hypocrites and haters. I see shallow people who discount authentic behavior. I see people who scramble to cover up boo-boos like little children or the dog that made a mess on the carpet. I feel protective of my ex, still. Maybe my friends’ harsh judgement pushed me closer to my then boyfriend.

He is kind. He is intelligent. He is also in pain and I know he is scared. I know he does the best he can, and he does fall short of his aspirations and expectations. Sometimes he does not “hook” until the third or fourth try – but to me, this makes him human. He is accessible and relatable. I never felt so much unwavering support when I attempted something that scared me. He always said I could do it. He always made sure I was properly fed to attack my task ahead. My friends offered substances to kill the intensity. To grapple with the defeat.

My lesson? I know what I am doing. I must trust myself more. I know when I’m right and I know when I’m wrong. My intuition has been sharpening. It serves me. I acknowledge it when I can. I believe this reinforces it and make it stronger.

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