Sometimes life feels a bit like a game of Scrabble. You rarely have all you need for the kinds of things you'd like; you have various things that seem heavy, but that can pay off generously if you just carry them for a while and use them when the circumstances are right; you're often completely dependent on the unconsious generosity of others; most of the time, you have to put up with far less than you'd otherwise choose; and, just occasionally, you have a big victory!
Right now, I don't have the letters to spell the words I feel I need to. Today has been quite good on the whole - work wasn't busy, but busy enough; and I've had a visit from a supporter this afternoon and beaten him twice at Scrabble. But, my life feels really - well, shall we say empty, for starters...?
I'm lucky: I have friends, I have caring relatives, I have work, I have a home, I have enough money to live a reasonable existence; and I have many other good things. But I don't have love - not the personal, individual love that seems to be enjoyed by many. I don't have anyone to love as I'd like to - and the result of that is that I often lust after others, and feel bad about it afterwards...
I never used to have the ability to cope with that kind of love - neither to give it, nor receive it. I like to think I could give it now; but I remain uncertain of my ability to receive it. Such uncertainly is the product of the abused young man within my ageing body: the body I almost unconsciously keep as unattractive to others as I can. My search for a suitor is therefore almost impossible - a search for someone so determined that he'd repeatedly refuse to be deterred by the barriers I place in his way...!
It's not my desire to have people play such games of course. But how else can I be sure they'll not also abuse me?
No comments:
Post a Comment