I suppose a crucial point in me starting to think about the dynamics of love and relationships, was this.
It was after Claire's abortion. The month or so we spent after it trying to put things back together.
And we just didn't talk about it.
Till one night, I was watching Alien Ressurection. And Claire wanted to go to bed. I said she could go up and I'd join her. But she wanted me to come with her. And finish watching it in bed.
Anyway, we'd not been in bed long when it got to a scene showing the mother alien and all her pods.
And NOW Claire decides she wants to talk about it.
And for once, I didn't want to. At that moment, I just wanted to watch the film.
In the end, I just got up and said 'I'm going to watch the rest downstairs'.
And she charged down after me 'Why can't you love me like I love you?'
And I looked back at her. I really didn't know what to say. I didn't.
I went outside and had a cigarette and pondered the answer to Claire's question.
No, I didn't love her like she loved me. I couldn't say I did. I felt for her a bit like a sister that I needed to protect, that wasn't what she felt for me. And she wanted me to love her a different way to the way I did.
But I wanted her to love me a different way to the way she did.
I didn't want her to love me the way she did.
I HATED being loved the way she loved me.
Hated it.
It made me feel somewhat sullied being loved like that.
She wanted my body and she wanted to make sure no one else had my body, that was it.
But did she love me for my mind?
Maybe, in the sense that she liked to see proof it existed. She liked to know it was hers, but she never cared to truly understand it.
And she never could. It wasn't in her.
I was just a clothes horse to her. A talking clothes horse she could show off as the wild boy she had tamed.
Love? I guess we all love the things we own. And that's what I felt like I was.
And I hated it. I really hated it.
I felt degraded by the way she felt about me.
Because it wasn't me she loved.
Just her possession of me.
And that sort of love, is no good.
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11 comments:
Hmmm, very interesting post. I don't think my husband loved me in the way I wanted either...he didn't listen to any of my stories or my poems that I wrote - he just could not stay awake! He would fall asleep during 'heart to heart' talks...he just wouldn't have known what to say to me. So I felt like he didn't really know me or who I was.
So yeah, he loved a lot of things about me - I was a good Mum, a good wife, I did the house work, I supported him in his work etc etc, but we had no spiritual connection.
INGSOC, I love that you are brutally honest. I love that. It is far too rare!
That being said... you and sparsely kate are with the wrong people. Right?
I don't want to sound sappy, but I'm about to do so: when you're with the right person, you don't have these kinds of episodes all the time -- only very, very rarely. (I admit that even the right person gets on our nerves, sometimes. But when they do, it's okay.) When you're with the right one, you realize (astonished) that you can just be yourself. I can't emphasize that enough: understanding that I could be myself with someone I cared about was an incredible experience.
I'm not a blogspot blogger anymore, but you know where to find me over at 8yzzy8.
Sparsely Kate, From practical experience it is not good to bring stuff like that up when they are likely to nod off. I know you lie in bed and think on something and it is quiet so you figure you have a chance to chat. But you really don’t, not then. Then sleep is calling them.
I figure the best times are probably when they know it will get them out of going shopping, or cutting the lawn, or putting up shelves, They are often quite happy to chat about stuff then, or if you need to sort out/agree something then in time to get it out the way before a football game is a good time.
And James does seem to have a point. Be yourselves and ciut each other plenty of slack.
I think we have all done that at times Crushed, someone wants to chat/talk and the other half does not. Someone once said to me, women like to offload their problems and men like to seek the solutions (generally). Sometimes, we don't like to hear them solutions as women, and men don't want to be just a sounding board. Sounds harsh but its true.
If you felt that she was like your sister. If you hated the form of love that she gave you, you should have thought about that before getting her pregnant and maintaining a relationship with her.
From the short time I have been following this blog, you have made a number of admissions in respect of how you feel about or have treated women in your past. My personal view, from what you've written, is that your behavior constitutes abuse and you tend to speak about women, in fact people, in extremely condescending terms. (i.e. the checkout chicks, and barmaids, that you describe as hanging off your every word).
I'm not trying to attack you. These are my views, and if you would like to delete the comment, please do.
I am very curious as to how do you legitimately propose a free love utopia where all are equal and the collective decides, when you constantly cite examples demonstrating an inability to climb out of your own head in your interactions with others?
My mother did not love me the way I would have liked to be loved, my husband in his drunken state did not love me the way I would have liked and sometimes my children do not love me the way I would like, but accepting people for all that they are and their own limitations is what love is all about. I don't mean that I settle but with some people - i.e. your mother or your children, you need to be OK with getting what they give. After all - and this is the particularly soft part - its more about what kind of love I give out than what I get back. But usually I think it evens out in the end.
Cat
(I had to fix a spelling error sorry about the previous deletion!)
Kate- I don't think I ever felt she really respected me. She could be very caring at times- though at others she was plain violent- but it was often a bit overpowering.
I don't think we did know eachother, no. She once said she felt that she only got a gimpse of me when she listened into conversations I had with mates.
James- I'm not with anyone now, but when I have been they've generally been the rong ones.
Simple reason, I just don't follow my own heart, I'm sorry to say. I tend to settle and regret it later.
I'm still looking forward to finding that person. I hate to say, but my hopes aren't high.
Moggs- You know a lot about men, don't you....
Yes, if it got me out of putting up shelves, any tedious conversation was ok.
and I'd pretty much anything if the bribe 'You'll be finished before the football' was offered.
Nunyaa- I'd wanted to talk about the subject for days. But she hadn't wanted to. So I'd offloaded it all on someone else. And this evening, I really wasn't in the mood.
I think one problem in this relationship decribed here (as in others) is she didn't have other people to discuss the relationship with, whereas I did.
Femme- We were actually engaged. Kind of drifted into it.
I never really thought about it, up till that point. I guess I just figured that's how it was. That's what settled coupledom was.
I was all prepared to live with her till death do us part.
It was only the abortion which really drove it home to me, that I just couldn't face that prospect.
I'm not sure I have ever actually abused anyone, certainly never raised my hand to a woman.
I think the truth is, I have a huge fear of combining physical and emotional intimacy. Therefore I probably seek out women I can safely feel aren't a threat. I deliberately seek women I can't connect to.
Well, that is the subject of a post in it's own right...
Cat- Maybe. I was a lot younger then. And I've been through a lot since.
Someone said to me recently that I kind of cocoon myself. Maybe I do.
I think I'm getting there slowly. I do kind of love someone now, albeit in very bizarre way, and I haven't felt like that in years.
Not sure wht it means. But it feels good to feel it.
love... possession, obsession, call it was you want, but love sometimes bring out something primal in us all, the urgue to defend it, protect it even if its just a figment of our own imagination.
I'm not suggesting for a moment you have been physically violent.
You just seem unusually mindful of your own desires and limitations, but seem to act in away that does not respect the emotional fragility, limitations and desires of others.
I think my ex loved the idea of me, rather than the reality. It seems to be in a similar vein to what you just described.
Crushed, I am hoping you didn’t mean it badly, but “knowing a lot about men”, like being described as “experienced” are not necessarily positive statements, sounds sort of slutty.
I know you say you like the idea of a world full of promiscuous women, but most would not take being it being implied they were promiscuous as a compliment.
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