What makes him love me? What made the others not really care about me?
Sometimes I think I’m pretty good at reading people, situations, and relationships… When I pay attention that is. At least I used to think that. Over the past year or so, maybe it’s been brewing longer… I’ve realized I often don’t know jack shit about my own crap.
I’m not completely hopeless. I know I’ve got a better handle on things than a lot of people. Well. Logically speaking. My emotions and knee-jerk impulses get in my own way
sometimes all the time, even though I know in my head what I’m feeling about a situation is wrong. Does that even make sense?
I know… I know… I’m totally rambling at this point. Feel free to move right along and ignore the crazy lady in the corner, tapping away at her keyboard.
Basically, what has brought on the ramble fest is that I’ve noticed Dane on Facebook a few times the past week or so. That’s unusual, he rarely logs on. So I went down a rabbit hole in my own head about how he’s suddenly more social now that I stopped being friends with him. That’s not strictly true, obviously… He goes in and out with his level of social-ness and Facebook activity is no real indicator of what he’s doing in real life. It’s just… come on, dude… you had time to play on Facebook but not text or email me?
I used to think I was important to him… Well, I know I was. He had made that clear a couple of times in the past. So I dunno when and where it changed for him. Then it made me think about Dan as well and how I stopped communicating with him a year or two ago. I lost count.
I used to think, deep down, he cared about me. At least a fraction of what I felt for him. I’m pretty sure I was kidding myself, now that I look back. I mean, he liked me, sure. But overall I don’t think he really truly cared. I was easier to let go of than to try to keep.
So now I’ve been married for nearly 15 years. More like 14 1/2 at this point. I used to think my husband didn’t care all that much for me. We went through plenty of rough patches, didn’t really understand each other’s “love languages” etc etc before this year. We were always reading each other wrong – when I thought things were good, he was often hiding his displeasure from me and vice versa. I was never very good at being lovable either. It used to be a lot harder for me to snuggle or what have you. I didn’t particularly liked being touched regularly, especially if taken by surprise. (I attribute the lack of desire for intimacy directly to previous abusive relationship.) Somewhere along the line, I stopped being lovable. I’m not sure I ever was. I like to think I was, but I don’t really know now.
I’ve not been the best wife. I’ve been hard to love. Yet, for some reason he still loves me. He still wants me around.
It baffles me sometimes.
I’m getting better at it all though, I think. Maybe there’s hope for me yet.