Love! (ugh-good god) What Is It Good For?

Turns out my soul mate does read The Guardian after all.  Unfortunately for me, he doesn’t appear to have received the same memo.  

After an iffy start to the relationship, which led to a rocky middle (being dumped by text was a particularly thrilling highlight), then an unexpected re-connection...the whole thing has now tailed off into a sea of nothingness, like car brake lights disappearing into ominous fog.

The thing is, I think I love this guy.

I admit, love is a pretty dramatic word to use in relation to a man that I have only known for a matter of weeks.  But how else to describe the feeling of my whole world suddenly making sense, when he’s in it?

Now I know I can hardly profess to be an expert on the whole love and relationships situation.  I have been shut down for so long, it’s no wonder I feel blindsided, ill-equipped and confused.  It’s both a relief to know I can feel this way and also a sodding pain in the arse.  Will there ever come a point of time in my life when love doesn’t equate to pain, hurt and loss?  Did I intuitively connect to this man because there was something innately telling me he would never feel the same?

Like rhetorical questions are any use in providing answers at this point in time...

So, what is it about this man?  

All I know is this.  He is the only man I have ever met where I haven’t wanted to change anything about him.  Not a single thing.  Although, to be fair, if he reciprocated these feelings, that would be quite nice.

That’s not to say he is perfect, because he is flawed just like everyone else.  But for the first time ever, I kind of like the flaws.  I can live with the flaws.  They are part and parcel of a person that I like just the way he is.  I also recognise many of the flaws in myself.  Despite appearances, we are deeply similar.  I get where he is coming from.  His life makes complete sense to me.  

I can over think it and analyse it to death, but ultimately I sense a fit that I didn’t even feel with my ex.  I can *see* myself with this man.  I’m not the sort of person who is sufficiently confident to trust her intuition on a regular basis, relying much more on intellectual logic, but intuition has employed a marching band in this instance, and is stamping about, cymbals crashing, screaming, “HE.  IS.  FOR.  YOU!”.  

He doesn’t feel the same.

If only we both lived several centuries ago.  Unrequited love must have been so much easier in Medieval times.  I would simply book an appointment with the local druid, spit in a cup (or provide a juice sample of a more personal nature originating from an alternative, dubious source) trade in my soul and walk away with a potent love drug to spike his unsweetened cappuccino sachet with.  Easy.

Nowadays there is no equivalent devious solution that I can think of.  He remains unconvinced of our compatibility and has taken a long run into the hills.  Despite stating I am possibly the only woman he has shared so much in common with.  God, it’s so fucking annoying.  How I’d love to give him a big, fat slap (if only for the chance of kissing it better, obviously).

I don’t think it helps that he still considers himself to be in love with his ex-girlfriend.  The one and only time he has ever been in love, according to him (although not according to at least one of his mates).  This is a significant stumbling block on the path to true love, I agree.

He also has an issue with my perceived vanity, which feels slightly karma-esque, because the thing I abhorred the most about the previous guy I dated, Green Eyed Man, was his pre-occupation with achieving physical perfection.  My God, his religious dedication to the gym.  His obsession with nutrition and diet.  His outrageously complex beauty regime, which took a minimum of 20 minutes night and day, involving all manner of lotions, scrubs and massage techniques straight from the salon, and which drove me around the blinkin’ bend.  My regime looked pauper-esque in comparison (I know these aren’t real words, but they seem to be working for me).  Scrape off my make-up and possibly (in truth: rarely...I know this is gross) brush my teeth.  Done.

I really thought the whole thing was too shallow and superficial for words.  It didn’t matter that GEM was kind, reliable, trustworthy, hardworking and loving.  I found it hard to respect him when he cared way too much about looking pretty and was striving for a career in modelling, of all things.  Maybe I would have been more forgiving if I’d been open to a relationship, we’d had more in common and he hadn’t been quite so...dull.  But maybe not.  

So to have my own vanity called into question, is a little galling.  

Although, cards on the table, I will confess there is a nugget of truth in it.  I do take care of my appearance and, as much as I strive not to, still care way too much about other people’s opinion.  Quite an uncomfortable realisation to make - that there is a part of me at the ripe age of 44 which doesn’t feel quite good enough.  That underneath it all I still feel I have something to prove, as though the real me just isn’t quite up to scratch.

No wonder he’s buggered off.   

But I can’t help keeping my fingers crossed that he comes back.  I didn’t imagine meeting a man that I could see my future so clearly with - and, right now, I am not willing to let that feeling go.  Whatever happens, this whole saga HAS succeeded in refreshing my hope.  I can and do feel love.  And one day, I feel confident it will be returned.