I have a pocket of feelings I don’t enjoy. I visit them in an addictive way. Usually I skim the surface, but today my spouse was pulling cash from an ATM, and I was sitting alone in the car. I started talking to myself, or talking to the one I love who I should not love.
It’s a time of stress, and my addictions are bothering me.
What a trope! The one I love who I should not love. Like a werewolf or vampire or English teacher. Some star-crossed fool. Or you know I’m the fool.
Alone in the car, I started crying from the things I was saying. Deeper in the pocket, I didn’t like the desires I was finding.
dramatic
Let me list some dramatic sentences for you. Here are the things I tell the one I love who I should not love, when I’m alone in the car.
- I love you.
- I want you.
- I want to be close to you.
- I want to be near you.
- I want to matter to you.
- I want to kiss you.
- I want to hold you for a long time.
- I want you to fuck the shit out of me.
Those are the basic things I say accompanied by imagining closeness and possibly sex.
deeper
Here are some sentences I found deeper in the pocket.
- I want you to choose me.
- I want to give myself to you.
- I want you to be loyal to me.
- I want your intelligence to keep me safe.
- I want to ally with you.
disturbing
I started feeling uncomfortable with “I want your intelligence to keep me safe.” It hurts because it’s true.
Here are the sentences I found most disturbing.
- I want you to protect me.
- I want you to desire me.
- I want you to tell me that I’m beautiful.
- I want you to know me in a way no one else has ever known me.
- I want to love your whole self.
- I want you to love my whole self.
- I want to spend my life with you.
I was crying because these desires are so off-base. What I want from this person is unhinged because it’s impossible. This person I shouldn’t love has no capacity to love my whole self– they never knew more than a tenth of me. They’re so avoidant, they couldn’t reassure me. They cuddled and kissed me, a few tender times. But they never told me I’m beautiful. They don’t even answer my questions.
They are so far from accepting me to spend my life with them. What I needed from this person as lover has nothing to do with what they’re actually capable of. It was all just a dream.
alone in the car questions
Alone in the car, what do you say?
What do you feel?
Who do you want?
Are you aware of fucked up pockets of feelings, inside you?
Do you investigate the pockets or avoid?
Are the pockets central to who you are?
Do they control your life?
Are they rare day dream material?
What is my fantasy life trying to protect me from?
What unmet need am I trying to meet?
If I ever reached deep enough, what would I find at the very bottom of this pocket?
truth
Alone in the car is a good time to experiment with truth. May I always tell the truth, even when it’s painful. May I dwell in truth.
