I really have no interest in people when I smoke.
Most of the time I’m nearly desperate for others. That might be the reason for hugging walls and fantasizing about crushes. I want to laugh and dance and support and inspire. I need to interact and sometimes it’s even nice to be heard. There is passion in my loins and desire in my heart. And if I can’t let it out, I will die. If I had to spend all my time alone, I would be dead for the rest of my life.
The interesting thing is I have spent most if my life feeling completely alone, even when I wasn’t. I thought I was an introvert until a decade ago ( I’m 45 this year). I almost always wanted to be alone so I thought I needed to be alone. When I was unhappy I told the world I had to be alone. When I was miserable I’d pull back even more. I spent the better part of my 30s pushing everyone away: I worked from home, I worked long hours, I always had an excuse to not be available, I went to movies by myself, I was mad at almost anyone I had to be around. (I always felt better after people were around, but I thought it was because I was alone again. Similar to how Ex2 used to say his favourite part of exercise was stopping.)
Yet, in retrospect, I needed human contact. I was always desperately in love with someone, completely separate from whomever I was dating or living with. I wrote poetry and diaries, dropped love notes into the locker of a boy I’d never spoken to. I cried for him, I loved my self in his absence. Oddly (but I was soon to learn this would become the norm), I didn’t like him nearly as much when I actually met him. But eventually there was enough absence to win my heart again.
I always got the sense that no one in my family liked me (because they were only ever really nice when someone was watching) so to get human contact I did a lot of fooling around. I didn’t think anyone else liked me either. The boys thought I was a bit of a slut and that got me attention. I wasn’t a slut, I was a gullable pushover when I was a kid and a bit of a whore when I got older. (They didn’t give me money but they always paid for it somehow. lol)
I chose my career based on my realization and subsequent understanding that I needed people around me to be soul deep satisfied. In retirement living, I spend every moment interacting with people and it’s important that they like me (at least on the surface). Luckily I spent the past decade learning that people can like me; and sometimes they even like me because I’m likable, not just because they have to.
Mil and I have lived together for five years and I have spent that whole time believing that we work because we both like to be aloneand we live alone together. But the thing I bitch at him the most is that he makes me feel invisible. He is completely self involved. Maybe I was too when we first got together. Is that why we worked?
I’m still self involved but I don’t want to be a whore anymore. I don’t want someone to be with me because I pay them to be; I want them to want to be with me. I want to be completely equal in the give and take. I want to be with someone who wants to be with me the same amount I want to be with him and I want that to be a lot. But I made a promise so I’m going to see what comes of us before I look at what could be with someone else. (I still get to pretend sometimes, though, with or without batteries.)