half-hearted

halfhearted
Originally uploaded by emdot.

I'm doing much better

It's not that I was doing poorly. But things like rejection can kind of make you question yourself. Or they do me.

Cognitively this is what I think: we can't take it personally. We just can't. Because there is no explaining love or attraction. I think both of these things contact with the ethereal can't-quite-put-my-finger-on-itness of connection. I read in a book once that attraction has way more to do with issues we need to work out than with anything else.

That doesn't sound very romantic, but I think there is something there. Harville Hendricks calls this the imago. We're all the walking wounded in some ways (some visibly, some invisibly). We connect with people who are similarly wounded -- god that sounds ridiculous. What is another word to use?

I don't know. But, despite how lame it sounds, it is still what I believe. You can't take this stuff personally.

One of my friends is the type who will really rally to your defense. She's like the unconditional support friend. She said "but Marya you deserve more and you deserve to have that person treat you like a Queen."

Which of course I agree with. But the problem with that is, in the beginning the relationship isn't at that level. I mean, you can't just jump to immediate royalty status. So, sometimes people are just their confused, but well-meaninged selves who don't know for themselves if they "like" you or not, much less know if they are "leading you on" (which he wasn't -- but maybe this friend thought he was) . I mean, I'm the same way - not knowing half the time where I stand or where I want things to go. So, I can't take that route unless I'm the pot dating the kettle.

But you gotta appreciate her support. :)

Yesterday was one of those warm and fuzzies ones when the entire world comes out to say "so sorry, but we are on your side." I got five flickr mail AND a flickr call from England (Paulie, that old rascal -- and he has a GREAT english accent). I got taken on a long hike up Bishops with some great insight from Tom.

KB had me over for lunch and we watched the "He's Just Not That Into Me" episode of Sex and the City (which is brilliant). That? Sign of a perfect friend.

So, my ego is already healing. And there will be no bad feelings. And if I was a saner person I wouldn't write all this crap in a weblog, but might take a more socially acceptable lock-and-key diary route. But c'mon, sometimes there's nothing quite as cathartic as just getting all out there.

Then you can look and point and say "see!" and then leave it be.