The Love Trilogy Part 2 and 3 A constellation of support

I think I'm sick of the 'love' debate. Maybe what I feel is just another L word - lust. Unsustainable, and like emissions, bad for the planet.

When I am around my friends who are married, or domesticated and living with one person monogamously, I battle two wildly conflicting emotions. I yearn to be them. The desire to be accepted for who you are. The appreciation of the known vs the unknown. The sheer security of knowing who waits behind that door as they hear your key in the lock. The love, in other words, of a deep and abiding friend.

That is, it seems to me, the main reason to 'settle'. And I'm not critical of settling. Settling for a level of comfort and companionship that takes the topic of 'love' from the front burner of your brain and puts it somewhere in the reheat when needed section. That must be 'love'. Because it provides  the drug of consistency. But a wall of revulsion follows closely behind. The idea of living in a house with one other person, merging bank accounts, kitchen appliances, friends and pets, absolutely terrifies me. The fear of boredom. The anguish of accountability. The threat of loss. The heightened vigilance of someone like me whose antenna is up at the first sign of perceived danger. All mixed up in the fear of losing this perfect whole.

Many years ago, Sue (this thing with the Sue's and Susie's in my life is a bit odd), wrote about me, after I had broken her heart for the umpteenth time 'It is impossible to get Jill to reflect on anything seriously. She wants to collect all her lovers (how many does she need at one time for chrissakes?) in a constellation of support'. And recently, Susie the Final (I have vowed never to be involved with another one), said, laughing, in front of many friends 'Jill's idea of perfection is to have her exes all living on one huge compound within close reach'.

And why not???? What's wrong with that? I am a Leo after all. Doesn't the world revolve around me? Wouldn't all their new lovers enjoy being around the one ex they can't shake, huh??? I'm not alone in this, right? Don't we all want to exist in a quilt of soft, enduring support? Isn't that exactly what 'family' is about? Interesting to me what others have said in response to this blog, that 'love' was not a word expressed much in their families. My mum told me she loved me constantly. But could never provide the one thing I associated - as a child - with love. That she'd stay.

They're right - these ex Sue's and Susie's of mine - I want to 'collect', to 'keep' the loved ones. Close. 'Losing' someone is for me the height (or is it depth) of despair. That's the fear that drives the sabotage truck loaded with emotional explosives that I manouver so well. When 'loss' is the inevitable end result of 'love', why go through the torment? I recently spoke to Sue, who is visiting her old family summer home in Maine, and she nailed it. As she often does, as her mind is an incisive as the pair of sharply honed pincers on the lobster she ate the day we spoke. She said 'It's that they leave your life as if you never existed'.   

I walk along a trail by a creek many times a week, my passel of hounds behind, except for Calvin who is always ahead, and the trail meanders past oaks, madrones, eucalypts and bay trees, poison oak hugs the trail's edge, nettles and thistles hang tauntingly close. It is a beautiful place, light scatters through the leaves, water patters over the rocks in the shallow creek bed. There is a huge tree, with bees coming and going from a hole in the base of the trunk, and someone has made a sign warning dogs to keep their snouts away. The sign reminds me of something Winnie The Pooh would make, after having dunked his head into the nest and come out sceaming in pain, bees hanging from his nose. I love this trail. I love my dogs enjoying it, I have walked this trail with many.

When I reach the place we turn around to head back to the car, I yell 'We're heading back now, gang' and the dogs, startled momentarily, immediately turn and run ahead again. Except Oscar who has been so far behind that he, for a short time is ahead of everyone else on the homeward bound.

There is a fear I have as I head out of the park. While in the park, surrounded by the peace of the place, and the light, and the chaos of the barking dogs. I suddenly fear that I will not see it again. That's what I'm like with love. Winnie the Pooh and Piglet were walking through the forest one day and Piglet stopped suddenly. 'Pooh', he cried out, 'Pooh'. Winnie the Pooh turned to him and took his paw. 'What is it?' he asked Piglet. Piglet looked up at him (because a bear after all is taller than a piglet) and said 'Pooh, I just wanted to be sure of you'.

Comments

[Deb in Minnesota]

It's interesting. My mother was mostly there physically except for the time when she tried to commit suicide and was away receiving care. Yes, that felt to me like a type of leaving me. I know that my child brain and emotions thought it was about me or because of me.

As I said, she was mostly there physically but not there emotionally. Hmmmm, so in my adulthood I subconsciously chose women who would leave me. They were not the staying around type. At least I'm aware of this now.

Of the fears you spoke of in a "settled down" relationship, the one that scares me the most is boredom.

I love (there's that word again) that quote by Piglet...

[gwnn]

nice to see that i am not the only one who feels comfort with her past loves. it's like this to me: if i cared enough to share my body and my love with you, i care enough to never want to lose you . . . regardless if they move into the heart-space of another.

i too am riddled, at the thought of forth coming despair should she walk away forever. i covet, less and less, the "charmed life of couple-dom", but i do desire a sense of permanancy when it comes to my ex lovers. go into the wild world and share the beauty that is you, i tell them. but remember that you have a home like no other deep within the channels of this river called my heart.