You know, I think I'm starting to figure out what my deal is. For as many years as I can remember I've been in and out of relationships. Period. Notice how that sentence cuts short with no explanation, no emotion? Yea, I did too, and that in and of itself is a statement. For some reason, unknown to me at the moment, I can't let anyone get close. I desire it. I yearn for it. I seek it out. However, the time comes for me to step that final step to being with someone and I decline. I draw back into myself and forsake everything that I have. Everything that has been given to me by this other person. All of the promises I've made to myself and to them. What is that about anyway? Crickets.
I am unable to take the simplest, most basic human need: connection, and apply it in a concerted way. It is so upsetting. It is so frustrating. The worst part about this 'condition' is that I have fairly decent knowledge of psychology, brain chemistry, emotional conditioning and responses; I'm a smart guy, I understand things easily, I work things out quickly, I can take things apart, figure out how they work and correctly put them back together. I'm empathetic and sympathetic to other's problems and have enough versatility to offer a new perspective to help them with their problems and yet I still can't "solve" my own problem. It's not like I don't care about people, because I believe I do, but I guess the best way to say it is I am unaffected by people.
I don't know how many times I've been told that I don't feel, that I don't show appreciation, that I don't show love, that I don't seem excited or happy or sad or angry. Nor can I accept the love, hurt, appreciation, worry, sorrow from others. I just don't know what to do with it, I don't know how to act, I don't know what to say, I don't know how to accept it and I don't know how to reciprocate it. Compliments, care, love, appreciation, praise, concern; I don't like them when directed towards me. I'm not comfortable with someone missing me, I'm not comfortable with someone worrying about me, actually, I don't even consider that people have those feelings about me. Sure, rationally, cranially, intellectually, I get them, but do I feel them? Not much, if ever.
Don't get me wrong, I do feel. I sit in my apartment and cry at the "guy lost the girl" parts of movies, I get warm and fuzzy during the "family finally comes together" parts, I laugh when I find something funny, I get angry when someone's being a dick, I do feel. But I kinda don't care. I don't care if anyone is reading this; in fact I would probably prefer if no one did because I'm probably provoking some emotion that I know I probably wouldn't have if someone else were writing this. If I never see you again I know I would be just fine, with very few exceptions, and it doesn't affect me (nor does it have an effect on me).
What does that make me? What does that say about me? That I can go through my life with this cyborg presence, unaffected by the actions of others; i.e., unaccepting of the presence of others. What does all of this mean? I wish I knew. I wish I knew why, I wish I knew how I got this way, I wish I could put into words more elegant than I've been able to what it really is, but even my words are failing me. What does this mean for my future? Who knows.