Waited for Love
Shared by soul friend.
For years I tried to make relationships with the opposite gender work. I thought that I could make myself feel things that just weren’t there. I thought that, given enough time, I could find someone that could touch even the smallest piece of my heart and all would be okay. I had to give up that futile effort though when I met “her”.
At seventeen I met the woman that would reveal the ultimate truth to me. I could lie to myself all I wanted, but in the end these feelings wouldn’t disappear. We all have scars though. Some of us bear physical scars that the entire world can see, but for others the scars lay beneath our flesh.
I bore that breed of scaring, a childhood that nobody should have to go through left me unable to share true physical intimacy with any of my partners. I had finally started dating according to my own preferences if you will. I had girlfriends over that years, all of whom had one thing in common. They were all very understanding, for a period of time. I could “fool around”, make out, whatever…but, beyond that, I just couldn’t. I selfishly held onto those relationships for as long as I was able to, until they just couldn’t take the inability to act on the physical side of their emotions anymore. I was always impressed when the relationship lasted years.
I knew that I was being selfish with them all. I had come to realize that I was never going to be able to ignore or get over my past with anyone that I didn’t trust completely. The kind of trust that comes with being in love with someone. I kept trying, hoping that one day things would fall into place with one of them, but that day just didn’t come.
Everyone assumed that I was sexually active, and I let them. I would slyly avoid answering specific questions, let people draw their own conclusions because it eventually became too weird or disturbing that I was a lesbian in my late twenties and I’d never actually made love to a woman. How do you explain that to anyone, even if you think they have a right to know?
I was waiting for love. For a love that would transcend the unfortunate side effects of having a parent use you as means for sexual gratification. For that woman who would consume my heart so much that the physical wasn’t scary, wasn’t a trigger for memories that had haunted me for decades. I found her, eventually.
She was incredible. A free spirit with a heart that had such a capacity for love and compassion that it left you speechless. I could talk to her about anything, be around her at my worst moments and my best. The most amazing thing about her was that she didn’t treat me any differently or look at me differently when I opened up to her about my past as so many others had done.
For a year and half, we danced around the obvious physical pull we had. There were a handful of times where she made her moves on me and I prevented anything from happening. Only this time, it wasn’t because I didn’t want to. It was because I wanted it to happen under the right conditions. She was going to be my first female lover, I didn’t want the moment to be tainted with alcohol. I wanted to know that we were both acting on feelings or desires that everyone in our circle could see.
We would hang out, I would even sleep over and cuddle with her on a regular basis, but nothing sexual. So many times I would wake up to hear her saying my name in her sleep while she was wrapped like a boa constrictor around my body. It was all I could do not to make a move. I knew she had demons/scars of her own that made her incapable of having a physical relationship with anyone where there was an emotional connection as well. I didn’t know why, but I knew that was where she was at in her life. So I stayed silent and content with the friendship that fulfilled my desire to have someone in my life that I loved unconditionally and trusted completely.
One night, I woke up and she launched her lips at me. She was kissing me. For once, this was happening while we were both sober. I was in Heaven. In a split second I decided to trust that she knew what she wanted and what she could handle. I made love to her that night and, by doing so, set in motion the destruction of the single most important, non-familial, relationship I’ve ever had.
Over the next two months she slowly started pulling away. Heck, we didn’t even address that night for about a month. I heard words of her having feelings for me but not being able to act on them, so I backed off. But it kept popping up. She was different around me, distant, and then she brought it all up again. Apologizing for her cowardice in communication, but not for giving me false hope that I got to have honesty with her. That I got to act on the feelings of love that I had for her.
I wrote her a letter expressing that I was in love with her, but would be content to simply have her in my life as my friend. That if there came a point in her life when she was able to go there, if we were both unattached, she simply had to say the word. I came on strong, I admit that, but I had to make sure she wouldn’t toy with my heart again.
You see, I waited for love, and, in the end, at the age of thirty, experienced what many girls do in their teens. I fell for pretty words of love and come the next morning, they were gone.
Now, she haunts me, just a frequently as my childhood did. I remember her smile, her laugh, the way she felt in my arms. Inevitably, when I’m with a woman now, there will be a point when I realize it’s not her and a sadness washes over me that I have no words to describe. But, if this is what waiting for love got me, I may as well just settle for physical gratification, it comes with no expectations and doesn’t tear my heart apart leaving it a pile of unrecognizable shredded bits of flesh.
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