I'm lying on the couch, my breathing is slow, my eyes are closed. I feel a tickle on my leg. Jason is kissing my shins. He kisses them like they're the last thing he will ever kiss on earth. He always kisses me like that. He kisses like he means it. He never pecks me goodnight, or throws a kiss at me as he hurries out the door. In his kisses, I feel all the love he has for me, and it makes me want to cry.
And not for gladness.
Sometimes I'm afraid for what what might happen to us. I'm afraid that I don't love him enough. I'm afraid I don't know how to. I'm afraid his love isn't enough for both of us. I'm afraid he will never be able to show me what he sees in me worth loving.
I push Jason away. I push my husband away. I make it really hard for him to love me sometimes, but he always holds me close. He holds me close and kisses me, and I push him away. I keep pushing because I want to see if he will leave. I want to see if he can stop loving me like my father did. I don't believe it's possible to be loved this much. I don't know what to do with it. I want to stop pushing but I can't. If I stop testing his love, then does that mean I accept it? Once I've accepted it, it can be taken away.
Sometimes I miss my father. I miss knowing his love. I miss knowing that a man can love you, period. I miss trusting in love. I miss knowing that someone can love you and always love you, never take it away, never bring you pain, never watch you cry. I miss every single tear I've ever wasted on my father. I miss every moment I spent mourning him. I wish I could get them all back. I wish I could make a bundle of all those tears, and all that time, and all my heart, and give it to Jason, and that it would be enough.
6 comments:
Sister Jay...I so feel your pain. It's hard to give all of yourself to the man you love when the prominant male role model that you grew up with showed you that loving is difficult (We could soooooo swap stories!). I read your blog everyday and from what I have read about your husband, he is a rare man. He seems to love you and all of your complexities.
oh, jay. such beautiful words to describe heartbreaking emotions. i wish you well. and remember, you ARE worth it.
i was so touched by this. now, i don't know you personally, but i can say this with great conviction: YOU DESERVE TO BE LOVED. and you can only experience that gift if you allow it. trust and love, like any other thing, will always have consequences. but you have to ask yourself if all that is worth the freedom to feel the greatest joys in life. despite my unstable heart, i still think it is. *hugs*
Love is a verb, like "keep writing".
!
Mmmm, very sad. I always worry about inbalance, too. But I'm coming to learn that nothing in life is truly balanced or equal, and that someone always loves someone else more than they are loved in return, and some people are always more happier or better off than others. Nothings really fair; that's always bothered me. But it's the truth.
I feel like that's true too; Jason loved me first, he loved me hardest, and maybe today he still loves me more. Love just makes you vulnerable, and I've never been very good at being vulnerable.
My father was never a significant factor in my life, I spent a few years trying to love him anyway, a few years hating him, and now I live in a world where he doesn't exist because I've found that it's healthiest for me (I realize that lots of people have somewhat similar situations, and people deal with it differently, and that's okay too...you have to do whatever it takes to make it right for yourself). But now the tables have turned a bit, and I wonder, I'm a little afraid, that whatever trait in my father prevented him from loving anyone, will also show up in me. Or that growing up in an environment where I didn't always feel loved (my mother tries, I know, but I feel really disconnected from her and my 3 sisters because they all live together, have their own little family, and often gang up against me and keep me at arm's length), that maybe I have some defect where I will never 100% trust anyone.
But the crazy part is, Jason and I technically have 4 parents between us, 2 moms, 2 dads, 4 sisters all together, and we are the only ones who are married. He comes from a 'broken' family too...things are complicated, non-existent with my father, but always struggling with the other 3 as well. We depend a lot on ourselves, a strong little twosome, and sometimes that scares me...he counts on me, can I be counted upon?
Thank you all for your kind words...sometimes even the class clown has a bad day; I promise you smiles again tomorrow.
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