I know ya’ll are getting tired of me trying to psychoanalyze myself but it isn’t wise for an unemployed person to memorialize most of the other stuff floating in my head lately. I’m sleeping in my recliner again. It bothers me to not have answers to why sleeping in my bed is so hard for me, but it just feels like a bill I’m procrastinating going to pay.
Since I left my fiancé I’ve gone on a million and a half first dates, one second date and did stick with one on and off for about a year. I need more space than most people, I get that. What I don’t get is why other people need to be so close so fast or why that’s so hard for me. I have no problem being in someone else s space or being there for them- it’s when its the other way around that it gets to be too much. For example: I’ve become friends with one of my neighbor’s since he moved in about a year ago. Then the Wednesday before Christmas my grandmother passed away and my father had a heart attack and was in the hospital, and he made me a plate of food. For two days I totally avoided him and wouldn’t go get it. I know some people see this as rude and I did appreciate it, but for some reason it was too much for me.
What does this have to do with sleeping in my recliner? I miss a second pair of feet in my bed. I miss another mind to bounce ideas off of and listening to someone else talk. I miss having a man laying next to me. I think I sleep better in my recliner because the arm of the chair touches me the whole time I’m sleeping and it’s like someone is sleeping next to me. As a serial monogamist though, I know how hard it is to end a relationship and I can’t move forward with anyone if I feel like there is even a speck of ill intent. If I start sleeping with someone because I’m lonely then when I’m not lonely anymore I will have made a huge mess for myself and some other person.
Am I really that damn tragic or are other people just too impatient?
Patience is a virtue, people.