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the flaw & the tough questions

December 16, 2010

i’m taking a blog post to be self-indulgent and talk about my feelings. if you can’t handle that, don’t read this post.

there comes a time, every so often, when i think that there is something wrong with me.

because: i am 23 and very single, have never been in a true relationship, and i am okay with this.

sometimes i think that somehow i am intensely defective because i have never found someone who has returned any affection in the way that i radiate it onto them. that i chase people away with intensity, or insanity, or weakness, or wild creativity, or whatever it is that makes people shy away. red hair. green eyes. grating voice. brazenness. refusal to back down. i don’t know, and i can’t change these things.

know that this – this subject – isn’t an easy thing for me to talk about. this might sound self indulgent and blathering but i’m sure that there are other people out there – other writers, other people who are dedicated to a craft – that might feel the same way. and know that this is my ultimate weakness – in my eyes, the fact that i can’t find a mate, a partner – it’s my stupid ultimate flaw, which makes me nervous because what does it say about my inner feminist, my inner human, my inner independent person to feel that?

and you start to wonder – you start to think – it’s me. i know it is. i’m too brazen. i’m too awful. i’m too creatively absorbed. i’m too much. it has to be. somehow, in all my failed relationship attempts, the sex, the dates, the dinners, the flirting, the never-called – i’m the common fucking denominator.

and sometimes, somehow it relates back to what i do.

that somehow i’m too dedicated to my craft. that i become too absorbed with what i write and how i research. i think: maybe i take selfish chances and therefore close myself off. maybe i travel to outward places when i shouldn’t, when i should be inwardly reflecting. maybe i immerse myself too fully into the things i write and can’t lift my eyes up to the world around me, to potential. maybe i become too obsessed with my characters and so set myself up for immediate failure because i can write people however i want and this doesn’t happen in the real world.

and this isn’t entirely what i want. i want to live in a world of paper and plot, and somehow that isn’t translating to real life. i feel that somehow i am stupid and broken in an intrinsic way that can’t be fixed.

it raises tough thoughts. and the thoughts go as thus: did writing choose me because i am a “flawed” person? because there is a whistling gap in the ventricles of my heart – somewhere i should be able to fit another person in but instead am able to accommodate writing? or did i choose writing because i am lonely and because i am awful and because i am selfish, because i cannot sustain a relationship with someone who is flesh and blood but instead touch the page?

it raises uncomfortable questions, like:

– am i hiding behind a page in order to not deal with real life dating, real life love?

– or am i just absorbed in what i do? and if so, is that all right?

– can i afford to be this selfish?

– am i just kidding myself?

these are hard questions to ask. nobody really wants to think of these questions. and i don’t want to be that person who says “my writing is my life” and “i’m married to my writing”. not for all of my life. not forever.

and someone once mentioned the idea to me – if i had to pick writing or having a loving partner, what would i pick? good god. what an awful choice. but for me, now, at this point in my life – writing, i suppose.

i don’t know. i do know that this post is coming from a bad place, an empty place of bile and upset. i do know that things always look better in the morning. i do know that i am a person who truly does like being single. but i also know that i am human and very breakable beneath my cocky veneer, and i know that when it comes down to it, it’s going to have to be someone golden and patient who lifts me out from behind my writing paper.

don’t remind me of this next morning.

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2 Comments leave one →
  1. Marek permalink
    December 17, 2010 8:19 pm

    Written in a time of weakness, but to be weak is to show human emotion. To write from the heart, edited with the minds guidance, is clarity of soul for others to understand ones expression of self. This then to perhaps link with another, to assure you are not alone.

  2. August 5, 2013 9:54 am

    When I initially commented I clicked the “Notify me when new comments are added” checkbox and now each time a comment is added I get three emails with the same comment. Is there any way you can remove me from that service? Cheers!|

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