I worry sometimes.
Though I am opinionated and will argue for the sheer joy of being contrary, I do not take myself that seriously. Life is a game. No truth is so great as to blot out the sun.
The brain focuses willfully, whether we are aware or not. The best advice anyone every gave me was to turn away from destructive ideas. I am confident in my own spiritual success though I have not yet attained it.
In short, I am not scared.
But for others I worry. My impact on those around me is my first concern. I am not confident in my ability to empathize, because I know from my own experience how bad notions can color the thought process and leave the thinker feeling exhausted and helpless. Exorcising the mind is a wholly personal challenge. Others can help, but in the end the responsibility is singular. For myself I can introspect and analyze, even justify when necessary, but for other people I am hard pressed to even understand what's going on in their head.
I have been dating the most wonderful girl for eight months now. I love her dearly and always take thought to her needs. She is political, inquisitive, playful, and lovely. She loves me in a way I could never have hoped for or even thought possible. She has quickly become the most important thing in the world to me.
But we are scarred.
Everyone has baggage, unfortunately we handle our feelings differently. I am solitary and like to think things out in my head or on paper. She likes to talk and validate her feelings. She is comforted primarily by physical intimacy, but I prefer solitude. Normally we are able to handle each other's moods very well. The problem arises when I am depressed or reclusive at the same time that she needs love and attention.
I try very hard, but sometimes I am in such a state that I find it exceedingly difficult to be physically intimate. Even my mother says I could be cold as a child. I am reminded of autistic children who dislike physical touch. The fact that I have no trouble maintaining normal business and social relationships makes this all the more disconcerting. It would almost be easier to chalk my problems up to an illness and then move on. Instead I keep wondering if I'm just not trying hard enough or if there's something here I need to fix about myself.
I love a person who needs a strong physical connection. I have doubts about my ability to provide this for the rest of our lives. I can't stand the thought of getting married, then 10 years and 2 kids down the line, find out that I am making her miserable. Yet this is unexplored territory for me, I don't know what kind of effort I will be able to make over the long term, and neither do I know what effort will be necessary. My heritage is Brazilian-Norwegian, two cultures that are complete opposites in terms of physical intimacy, so it seems like no coincidence that my comfort level is so manic in this regard.
When I have these thoughts she knows something is wrong, but I can't reveal my doubts, because her fear of rejection is at the root of her need for physical intimacy. Her lack of confidence in relationships seems to be what makes her so wonderful but also so delicate. On the same token, I make a good boyfriend because I've hurt and been hurt, and I don't want to contribute to any more pain. Unfortunately it may be that the very thing that attracts us is also our downfall.
I secretly fear I may not be able to meet her needs in the long term. And if I'm not able to, is it my fault or are her needs essentially unmeetable and perhaps unhealthy? What if we break up and I become just one more cause of her pain and distrust? I think I might never date again after that.
So I am scared.
All I can do is offer my love and hope it's enough. If I am successful then I will have accomplished the great task of being the most important person in another human life. If I fail, then the world will be lonely indeed. Will I laugh when look back on this years from now, or cry?