I went to therapy and spent many sessions doubting that I was even capable of love. My therapist would ask me to think about past relationships, or my parents, or my friends, and the only real feelings I could pull out from the vapid void was that of hurt. Pain. Disappointment. I care a lot of people, things, and places. I want good for those who I feel close to. I want to support and I care. But that wasn't a feeling. It was just this drive in my head that wanted good things for good people. If anything, the feelings I had were just worry at times.
Anytime I did feel a flutter in my tummy and an attachment to another person, it always ended in some firey nosedive that left me limp from the rollercoaster ride of trying to make it work. I learned that to feel something for another person would mean that it was wrong because they would leave. I learned that if I opened myself up, the other person would kick down the door still, take what they needed (possibly pay), and then run out the door never to be seen again. And those who did tread lightly through the threshold, knocking before they entered, and always asking before they could take, those people I just didn't care. I never ever left anything of value for them to take. Go ahead, I don't care if you take those expired newspapers and a worn out sock.
So here I am today. My store has been restocked and once again I have left the door unlocked and open. There are items that I care about on the shelves and although I haven't completely stopped paying attention to what this person is doing when they come in, I see that they are a little different, for now, but it's left me without protection. So I panic. I open and close the door, unlock the door when no one is looking and lock it up sometimes just as this person is reaching for the handle. What a messed up thing, but they don't seem to mind. Maybe they don't even know that they are coming and going from my store. Maybe they don't even think they need anything and are just browsing as they pass the time waiting for another shop to open down the street. Or maybe they only have a credit card, and I just take cash so a possible transaction might not happen anyways.
Really, I just have these feelings and it's weird. And I am happy to love another person even though I am scared to say so. But I feel it so much in my heart. and I am scared. and I want to work on it. And I want to be happy because I deserve to have what I want and what I need. I just want to love, support, and compliment another person; and I want the same for me. I've stopped waking up in the middle of the night in tears from the decade of loneliness I have felt, regardless of the unease I feel when I am unable to connect and tap into that other person in ways that I need. I just want to be seen, understood, and loved.
that's the end of that thought!