If Ever I Could Love

I wear my heart on my sleeve and my emotions in my eyes.

But I’ve spent almost my whole life having my emotions negated and dismissed, to the point where I no longer felt. That’s the thing about emotional abuse. No one sees it, no one understands it. They don’t know what it’s like when every time you say something, it’s cut down and you’re told you’re wrong. Everything you feel is wrong. Everything you think is wrong. Everything you do is wrong. Every decision, every comment, every single fucking thing is wrong.

Emotions were not allowed growing up. My mother didn’t want to disrupt anything or have anything disrupted. I was told over and over and over and over again that I’m too emotional, that I’m hurt too easily, that I shouldn’t feel the way I feel because it wasn’t acceptable. So don’t feel and you won’t rock the boat.

My ex continually chastised me for feeling. Anything and everything. I was not allowed to feel. Ever. At all. If I was angry, he was more angry and would scream at me until I wasn’t angry anymore. If I was depressed, he would badger me until I wasn’t depressed anymore. If I was happy, he would undercut it until I wasn’t happy anymore. I learned to be numb. I was really, really good at being numb.

And with both my family and my marriage, I learned to do emotional algebra. Okay, if he comes home and he is tense, then I can expect one of three possible outcomes if I don’t make the right thing for dinner. So to eliminate one of those possible outcomes, I can do one of three other things. 3X multiplied by 4Y equals a whole lot of time trying to figure out the right answer.

And there never was one.

So for more than forty years of my life, I was taught anything and everything I felt was wrong. And I got very good at that lesson.

And with the Poet and the others before him walking away from those few chosen moments where I let my heart out and my emotions out, my feelings of love and affection have been added to the emotional algebraic equation.

So what does this have to do with anything?

The Filmmaker and I were at his place, watching “The New Girl”. It’s kind of amusing because there are elements of this show that parallel where we are in our budding relationship. The episode was about Jess (Zooey Deschanel) dating Justin Long’s character. They’ve been dating for a month. The Filmmaker and I have been dating just over a month. Justin Long’s character bursts out “I love you” in the middle of something. Jess is stunned and just says, “Thank you.” The episode explores the issue of when is it acceptable to say I love you.

And I’d love to say that we both looked deeply into each other’s eyes and professed our profound love for each other after less than two months. After all, it’s been so rom-com so far, why not this?

But this is real life.

And in real life, “love” is not an easy word.

Which got me to thinking.

Do I love the Filmmaker? Of course, it’s way too early to even ponder that idea. I adore him, I am crazy about him, he makes me feel amazing. Tonight, he gave me Sweden. (Very long story but fills my heart)

But love?

With spending my whole life having had my emotions discounted and dismissed and destroyed, can I ever really feel or understand love again? Did I ever understand it in the first place? Have I ever really, truly felt love? Can I ever really, truly feel that again?

There’s a Keith Urban song I’ve quoted before titled “If Ever I Could Love” and the way that the song builds feels like what being in love is. It feels me with optimism and joy and the hope that, yes, if ever I could love…

And at this point, I’m not sure I can trust the feelings I have. Is this love? Is this just passion? Is it something more than just responding to someone who treats me well and who is just simply easy to be with?

And can I ever let myself go enough to really, truly love someone again? Not saying that it’ll be the Filmmaker but how will I know?

I’ve worked very hard over the past six years to rebuild myself and to learn to trust myself and my feelings and my emotions. I’ve learned to sort out a lot of things about how I feel and have stopped (for the most part) checking in with my two best friends to see if what I’m feeling is appropriate or accurate or acceptable. I’ve learned to trust myself in other aspects of my life. But love…

I want to love. I’ve thought I’ve been in love. The Poet especially. But maybe it was wanting to be in love moreso than actually being in love. He felt like what I wanted but yet wasn’t willing to be what I wanted.

And now, moving into my first real relationship since my divorce, I’m wondering if ever I could love. If things keep going the way they have been with the Filmmaker, would I ever really be able to trust that my feelings are valid and that I could love him? Or anyone else?

The idea of saying “I love you” scares the shit out of me. Because it has never ended well. “I love you” became empty and shallow and painful. “I love you” became something to be deflected, not something to be accepted. “I love you” is big and scary and words that I’m not sure I ever want to say to someone ever again.

Because if I love you, I will lose you. If I say it, it will lose all meaning. If I love you, you will hurt me, beyond all reason, beyond all words. You will hurt me and break me and destroy me. Because love has always been used as a weapon. Love has always been wielded with lethal force and left me slashed and bashed and shattered. Love has never been what the movies make it out to be - full and beautiful and amazing and heavenly. Love has led me to hell and left me there over and over and over again. Why should I ever want to do that again?

“If Ever I Could Love…”

But I want to love. I want to say to someone “I love you” and mean it with all my heart and my soul, without hesitation, without fear, without carrying the weight of all that has come before. Just simply say to someone “I love you”. And hopefully hear it come back, filled with everything I could wish for.

I want to be able to love without coloring it with the past. I want to be able to love without fearing that my emotions are wrong and bad and unacceptable. I want to be able to love unconditionally.

But I don’t think I’ll ever be able to do that again.

My shattered heart is in hiding right now, afraid to peek out at this lovely man standing in front of me. And it’s tentatively reached out to see how he feels. And it wants to run out and scream the word “love” from the rooftops because, well, isn’t that what I should be doing? Immediately proclaiming my love for him?

I don’t know if I know what love feels like anymore. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to feel it without fear of retribution, pain, sorrow. Because that’s what love means for me.

All I can do right now is hope that this time with the Filmmaker will help me move a step or two closer to love. Whether it’s with him or with someone else. Without even trying, he has shown me so much in the short time we’ve been together and maybe he can help me not fear the idea of giving myself over to someone, even if it’s not forever, even if it’s just for right now. Maybe he can show me that feeling this way doesn’t have to result in hurt and sorrow. But even now, I’m preparing myself for this to end because it just simply can’t feel this good and keep going.

So…

“If Ever I Could Love”…

Becomes more of a question than an answer…