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Is it ever enough?

April 18, 2014

Wednesday night I laid on his chest, taking deep breaths, listening to him gleefully sing along with Louie Armstrong. It was amazing. It was almost exactly what I had wanted all day. Probably more.

“Well, I have to go.”

“Uh, okay.”

And just like that it was over. He left and I missed him immediately. I want him with me constantly. I want to know what he thinks about everything. I want to know how he feels in every moment. The time we spend together is amazing but I still want MORE.

~*~

“I must be sick,” I thought to myself last Saturday. It was the day after he kissed me for the first time—a completely unexpected moment. I thought we were just hanging out. Just going to be friends. I hadn’t dared to let myself think about, let alone hope for, anything more.

And then he kissed me.

I was so shocked that I wasn’t even completely in the moment when it happened. This incredibly smart, funny, good looking man, with this lovely, gentle spirit kissed me. Me. He KISSED me.

And the next day I couldn’t think about anything else. I was like instantly obsessed.

“This isn’t good,” I thought as I tried to trudge through my homework one more time. “I must be sick.” Now I wasn’t physically ill. I hadn’t contracted anything from one…two…three sweet kisses. From his lips gently sweeping against and pressing into mine. I hadn’t gotten a disease from his sweet warm breath on my neck as we hugged goodnight.

But something is off. My brain isn’t working anymore. Not like it used to. Not like it should. I can’t concentrate. I can’t focus. I can’t get anything done. I’m sick. Like sick in the head sick.

Or soul sick.

All of my personal aspirations and desires were suddenly different. On their sides. Confused. My plan doesn’t make sense anymore because I can’t think of a way to squish him into it. My focus was instantly off. My desires all shifted. I used to want to accomplish something big. Right now I just want him.

With the first kiss, I instantly wanted more. I wanted everything! I was thinking of him constantly and I wanted him to be thinking of me constantly. I wanted him to be mine and to want me to be his. To possess him. Be possessed. Yeah. I was definitely sick. That’s bad thinking. Bad desire.

I used to like this “in love,” quasi-obsessive feeling. But now…it makes me feel sick. Sad. Jealous. Afraid. A little angry. And it is actually in my stomach right now.

What is it?

The possession. The wanting to have, to own. Is it that? I want him. As much of him as possible for as often as possible and as long as possible. But it isn’t just regular longing that ebbs and flows like hunger in my body that can be temporarily sated. That’s probably the sick part.

No definitely. My stomach, my chest, my brain…they all want overload. How can I stop this desire. Balance it with the other desires of my life? If it can’t be sated it can’t be healthy. So…should I feed it only at my own peril?

Or is it enough to remind myself that you can never really have another person?

We say things like, “He’s my boyfriend,” that imply ownership. Our wedding vows are things like, “to have and to hold…’til death do us part.” To have. To own…until we die. Like a house. Or a car. Or a purse.

Now that I have you, I’m going to put all of my important items into you and carry you along with me where ever I go.

But relationships with humans aren’t like the relationships we have with our things. He isn’t my purse. He can’t be. Even if he wants to be.

My brain is circling about all of these ideas. There are all of these things that we imbue with permanence that will not—cannot possibly—last that long. So why do we use this false sense of security anyway?

Because we want more? Do we want forever so we trick ourselves into the idea that something could possibly be so? I want every moment with this guy I can possibly get. And when I get it I want more. I want it to last. I want the security that he will be back again and again and again. I guess I want to try to make it permanent.

But if he doesn’t belong to me—and he doesn’t, and he can’t even if we were to get married—then he can’t be permanent. Maybe I need to make that my mantra so that I can enjoy the moments with him.

“This won’t last, Crystal. So enjoy him and love him to your fullest capacity just for now. Just for this moment.”

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