I don't think I ever told him how much it meant to me.

This post of Sherry's knocked me back as well:

I'm longing for a partner these days, and that's hard. I used to feel ashamed of this wistfulness, or like my sadness or my wanting meant that I was somehow "incomplete." Like wanting partnership is an admission of co-dependence or simply an unwillingness to be alone or to work on my own issues. That's crap.

I stay away from longing for a partner. If I let myself think about how much I want a partner I get sick and scared and sad. That leads straight to an ugly feedback loop, precessing between ‘what’s wrong with me’, ‘if I were thinner’ and comfort eating. I simply can’t spend time there; at the early signs I have to stand up and go swimming or call a friend. An entire chunk of my emotions is off-limits, because I am not brave enough to want something that much. I mean, I know intellectually that I miss having a boyfriend, but I won’t let myself feel it until there is a good chance I'll get one.

I also hate the popular idea that wanting partnership is an admission that I can’t be by myself. Obviously I can do a fine job by myself; I have for years. But what I miss, when I let myself, is the easy, easy courage I got from knowing my boyfriend loved me. For a short year, I would wake up every morning with his hard-on pressed into my backside and for the rest of the day I was invincible. Speak up in class? Invite a neat stranger to get lunch? Take on a new project? I could do anything, risk any failure, because I knew for sure, with physical proof, that the only person whose opinion mattered wanted me for one more day*.

And then that was gone. I had to replace it with stuff like ‘it worked when I did this before’ or ‘if it fails, I will have tried something neat’. People say stupid shit like, ‘real courage comes from within’ and ‘it’ll make you a better, stronger person to stand on your own two feet’. Well yeah, but… fuck that. Doing it on my own works, but it is so much harder. I have to draw so much deeper and be so much more vulnerable when I try to do something hard. I have to be more afraid that people are judging me and even when a risk goes well, it takes me longer to recover. In addition to the stupid work of dating itself, being single imposes the constant drain of sustaining my own courage.

I miss the smell and touch of a boyfriend, and meaningful sex and shared context. But I can ignore all that, because the default just re-sets to being friended or solitary or promiscuous or celibate. After four years, what I still can't ignore is the fear that I am going to have to keep being brave by myself.





*I am not looking for any other explanation for this.