Tag Archives: fantasy

Are you diving into a shallow pool?

Posted on by l0velyjune
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When we want something bad enough, and we’re in a hurry to achieve it, get it, feel it, secure it, we sometimes put blinders on, and dive in. Our desire for immediate gratification can be all encompassing depending how hungry we are.  And with Valentine’s day tomorrow, this could mean rushing out to find “the one” within the next 24-hours. Loneliness, in fact, is one of the major motivators for risky behaviors. But, sadly, it never pays to dive into something quickly and blindly.

Here’s a rather ugly metaphor for what I’m talking about:

You are told by a stranger that there’s a pool at someone’s house in town. You LOVE, love, love swimming and you haven’t swum in years, so, without missing a beat, or asking any questions except “where’s the pool?” you run home, get your bathing suit, your towel, your sun block, your goggles and head on over to the address. 

On the way over, you envision the water, the warm air, how wonderful the rush of the plunge will feel against your skin. You fantasize about how good it will all be–just the way you remember it. Maybe you’ll do laps. Maybe you’ll do the butterfly. Or the side stroke. Oh, the possibilities! It’s been so long!!!

You finally arrive at the door of the owner, knock, meet and say, “I’d love to use your swimming pool.” But before waiting for his answer, you waltz right passed him to his back yard. Without actually looking at the pool though, and sizing it up, you then proceed to put a pair of blinders on. You feel your way to the diving board, bounce a few times with exhilaration…and then….jump into a shallow, dirty pool of water and not only break two arms and a leg, but your nose as well. 

How could this have happened, you think? How could I have dove into this filthy shallow water when I “envisioned” the water so perfectly?

This, of course, is a rather far flung story, and yet, the love addict does this every time he or she gets involved in a relationship. We fall helplessly in love–some of us within hours–only to later realize that the object of our affection was a shallow pool and now that are blinders are off, we are broken.

When we are willing to put blinders on and turn our lives and our safety over to someone we do not know well enough, it’s because the “fantasy” for a perfect love far outweighs the importance of what is real. And what is real might be too ugly or scary for us. So…we close our eyes, we throw caution to the wind and we dive in. Chances are when we do that, there will be enough water in the pool to catch us. But when we are blind, how can we be sure? We can’t, because there’s no guarantee UNLESS we make such a big decision with our eyes wide open, fully aware.

My advice:

  • Take your blinders off. When you refuse to LOOK at things as they are, you run the risk of diving into a shallow or empty pool!
  • Stop the “fantasy” in your head telling you that that guy you just met online is your soul mate. He’s not. At least you have no way of knowing that until you spend months, YEARS getting to know him first.
  • Be open to seeing, acknowledging and, if necessary, taking action toward avoid people with red flags (don’t just avoid the flag! Avoid the person waving the flag!!!)
  • Use common sense when dating. Would you dive into a pool blind-folded? No. Then why go home with someone on the first date? It’s the same thing. Why allow your emotions to lead you to the sensation of “falling in love” when you just met someone? That’s not realistic. You may feel a chemical “attraction” to someone immediately, but don’t confuse that with LOVE. It’s NOT!
  • Ask the right questions. Don’t just ask “where’s the address of the pool” ask if the pool actually has WATER. In other words, when you are dating, don’t just focus on a person’s good looks, or pick up lines. A relationship takes a long time to form and while I don’t suggest interviewing anyone on a first date about all the skeletons in their closet, it might be a good idea to think of dating someone as taking a college class. Educate yourself about this person through a series of dates. Don’t be afraid to hear info like, “I’m already dating someone.” WHen you Value yourself and love yourself, chances are you will want to protect yourself from getting hurt. Learn as much about the people who enter into your life as you can. The more you know, the better you will be able to make decisions about  keeping them in your life or letting them go.
  • Never trust your fantasy. In your mind Jack the Ripper or Charles Manson could be turned into the perfect mate if you’re creative enough (and trust me, love addicts are!). When you open yourself to reality and what is right in front of you, you can SEE the truth, and while it might not be what you want it to be, it is real and will allow you to make healthy decisions.

Living a tragic life?

Posted on by l0velyjune
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Theatrical masks of Tragedy and Comedy. Mosaic...

Theatrical masks of Tragedy and Comedy. Mosaic, Roman artwork, 2nd century CE. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Up until about a couple years ago, shamefully late in life, I realized that life does not need to be tragic. Some lives can be lived without event, without drama, without a tragic twist to an otherwise peaceful, good life. There are people that are born, grow up, meet someone, marry, and die at 87 without the slightest bit of disaster. Don’t get me wrong. I am not saying there are people who never experience pain, or loss, or suffering. We all experience that to different degrees. What I am talking about is the love addict’s natural inclination to believe that life, and love in particular, is “tragic.”

Our belief in tragedy (drama, omens, symbols) comes from the way we were raised, the movies we watched or the books we read. And since most love addicts are prone to fantasy, it’s no surprise that they begin to believe that tragedy is a natural part of life. When every dramatic movie has a tragic element, it’s hard not to start to think that real life must be the same. And yet, it’s not.

Being a literature major, didn’t help. After having read things like Wuthering Heights, Romeo and Juliet, Tropic of Cancer, The Sheltering Sky, Madame Bovary, The Red and The Black, how could I want anything less than that same amount of passion for my own life? There was a bitter sweetness to the utter bliss of having found someone, and the agony of knowing I would lose them. In fact, at certain points in my life, I was proud that my life was so tragic. I was, after all, an artist. And an artist must live a tragic life.

The trouble is, when I recovered and wanted to live my life without all that drama (and art!), and find a stable, healthy relationship, I maintained an enormous sense of mistrust for the universe. I could never be completely “happy” or comfortable in my relationship because lurking around the corner, was tragedy disguised as a “perfect life.” It was only a matter of time before tragedy would strike and my love would be struck down and taken from me or vice versa. Isn’t that the way the world works?

Again, a resounding No. Life can indeed be a tragedy. But, depending on your perspective, and circumstances, it can also be a story with no point. It can be simple. It can be complex, but manageable. It can be average–not like Hollywood at all. How do I know? I see it now that I look for it. My mother lived a very chaotic life when she was with my father, but in 1986, she met and eventually married the man she is with now. If I look at their life together it is a simple, happy one. Although she has overcome some huge hurtles (lost her brother, survived cancer) for the most part, her relationship with her husband has been steady, stable, loving, and strong. No extreme ups and downs. No craziness. No tragedy…for almost 30 years. That’s a long time to live a peaceful life with someone. And what I need to start to believe in.

So, the next time you’re sitting alone in your room, crying over the tragedy and drama of your life, remember, that’s Hollywood. That’s literature. It is the fiction that YOU are creating for yourself as part of your need to fill the void, to distract, to numb. To experience something bigger than you are. Life doesn’t have to be that way.

Closure is so Hollywood

Posted on by l0velyjune
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From time to time I read about people’s longing for “closure,” that moment where your ex gives you the opportunity to ask questions, get stuff off your chest, find answers and basically help transport you to this emotional place, free and clear of longing now that you ‘ve had that moment.

Here are my thoughts on closure. I hope you’ll add your own:

1. It’s pure fantasy. Most of us never get the opportunity for true closure, and those that do get the storybook moment almost never feel real resolve afterwards. You know why? Because there are always more questions! And there are never enough answers. True closure, when you expect it from outside yourself, doesn’t exist. Once again, you are depending on him to be something he cannot be, and do stuff he cannot do.

2. It’s not something someone gives you, like an opportunity to “understand the truth.” YOU KNOW THE TRUTH. You just don’t want to know it. And you don’t need him giving you one more thing. He’s done enough, don’t you think? Besides, has he really been all that honest with you from the get go? What makes you think he’s willing to be truthful now? We give closure to ourselves. Period.

3. Break-ups are messy. They oftentimes make no sense;  and they mostly have no definite beginning, middle or end. Most of the time they are MYSTERIOUS and we will never know WHY they happened, let alone why they didn’t. We need to be OK with not knowing everything. We do not have a right to the secrets of the universe. And trying to find out WHY, only seems to antagonize us more. Letting go is less complicated and more dignified.

4. Expecting closure is for control freaks. No offense. I was one of them. But think about it. It’s like expecting to read people’s minds, or know about death before it happens. Impossible. And the whole “I have a right to know why you dumped me,” line? Ahem, you actually don’t have that right. You wish you did. At best, you’re lucky if your ex will let you in on his reasons. But chances are, he doesn’t even know himself.

5. Waiting for closure is yet another excuse to HANG ON. We’re so scared of letting go. Why? Ask yourself, what’s the worse thing in the world that could possibly happen to me if I just walk away and never looked back?  Letting go is a risk worth taking. Trust me! Not only does it give you the freedom to find someone more appropriate (I know you don’t care right now), but it also gives you much needed time to focus on YOURSELF as opposed to the relationship. Hello? Don’t avoid or neglect you (didn’t he do that?) Give yourself everything he was unable to give you, and more.

So practice a little zen, and just sit with the discomfort for a while. You make your own closure. You are in charge of your own happiness. You can even create your own answers. Whatever works. But depending on someone or waiting for someone else to give you that feeling of satisfaction is pointless and irrelevant to the struggle within you. You determine your own course. No one else.

Related articles: Instead of Getting Closure

Eerie coincidence

Posted on by l0velyjune
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Perhaps I shouldn’t post this because it’s purely fantasy driven, but two things: it’s far too weird of a story not to share, and it’s a great lesson in how little we actually know about our surroundings compared to how much we think we know.

So, D and I were driving through H___town yesterday on our way to a restaurant in the next town over. We’d driven down this particular road before, but I guess I must have never mentioned that I used to live here. “I had a house on Park Street,” I said, “right down there.” This tidbit of info must have triggered a memory for him, as he then said, “Do you know a girl named Kathy C___?”

“Sure, I know her. Why?

“Well,” he said, “I went to a party of hers like 20 years ago with L and K. And she had this boyfriend named D…”

“Dear Lord,” I said. “D was my ex. The guy I almost married. Not only that, but I was at that SAME party. That same night!”

“Well, I vaguely remember that she was pissed off with D because he’d gotten so drunk, and so she was flirting with me all night.”

“How funny is that,” I replied. “He got drunk because he didn’t want to date her anymore–I found out later. He was secretly in love with me, and was flirting with me that night. Little did I know he was about to end it with Kathy and ask me out. But I was actually into S and flirting with him.”

“So, while Kathy was flirting with me, her boyfriend D was off flirting with you. We were kinda connected back then,” D said.

“Crazy. I don’t even remember you being there.”

“Me neither. But obviously we weren’t ready for each other yet.”

So, that was the coincidence, but here’s the weird part. I have always believed that that era in my life was marked by a very strange yet unknown phenomenon. Like it was my end. Like this was the point in my life where I was supposed to meet the man I was to spend the rest of my life with (total love addict fantasy). Many strange occurance and “feelings” (which I won’t bother going into) had happened during that time to fortify that belief. Initially, I thought it was D #1. But that relationship ended badly and despite the fact that I didn’t love him and I was the one that ended it, he always stayed on my mind, almost as a warning or as reminder of my indiscretion. My life was certainly never the same after him. In fact, it took a serious decline. Before him, I was on my way up. I loved my job, had many friends, belonged to something bigger than myself. After him, I seemed to have lost it all.

When I hooked up with S YEARS later (from the same party, the guy I really had a crush on back then),  (aka the 2008 S I have written about here), I thought my prediction was still right. Because S had come out of that era, I once again believed there was something about that time that was supposed to reap a lasting reward. When we broke up, I truly abandoned the dream. It was, after all, unrealistic of me to think that I could predict my future. And yet, when D and I learned we were at the same party, it gave me chills. It was like there was this weird gravitational field that pulled us all together in one night and sealed my fate. Only I couldn’t predict who it would be, or when.

Lesson here: despite being mostly a realist, who tends not to believe in a God that moves people together for a reason, I still have a little of the fantasy left over in me. The little girl inside me, in spite of all her hard work to abandon eerie coincidences and magical “Prince Charming will come” thinking, still, from time to time, believes in fate. But here’s lesson number two: I have learned this bit of info about D almost 3 years into our stable loving relationship. I am, therefore,  not using the information as a basis to continue dating a man I barely know. Do you see the difference? Fantasy is fine, as long as it does not interfere in your decision-making. As long as it is not the basis for what you decide. In this case, the story is an added perk to the man whom I already adore for a gazillion other solid reasons. And yet, I’m glad he was there that night. It’s comforting to know, in a the universe is a mystery sort of way.

Fantasy’s over

Posted on by l0velyjune
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This weekend was hard for me.  Aside from having a lovely day Friday, strolling around a golf course on the bay with D, watching the PWGA,  and a rather nice night Friday, at an awards dinner for attorneys, Saturday and Sunday seemed burdened with chores, screaming kids and neglect. His kids won’t eat…Our kids don’t listen…There’s no control…The house is a wreck…Bills needed to get paid…I’m not getting enough alone time…I’m not getting enough D time….our relationship is not the same…we see each other daily, but there’s less quality….I’m simply not happy…blah, blah, blah…

Those were my complains on Monday, and I burst into tears confessing them. I said I felt like the fantasy was over and now the drudgery of real living is upon me and I don’t like it. I said all my control is gone. All the boundaries I set up, all the expectations, are gone. When we were just dating, I rarely had to deal with his kids, especially on a disciplinary level. When we were just dating I ran this house and everything in it and things were in the places I liked them to be. When we were just dating I only really dealt with and partook in the happy, peaceful side of the relationship. When we were just dating, I could run away to my home and recharge, regain my spirit that I would inevitably lose if I spent too much time together.

Oh, I have been so sad.

And he wasn’t too happy hearing all this.

And on top of it, he was angry that I have been “constantly bringing up” his daughter’s eating habits. She eats no fruits, no vegetables, and will only eat cheese sandwiches, Mac & cheese, bread and now corn on the cob. At a BBQ last week she ate a potato chip sandwich and then had cake for dessert. At regular dinner times I have to always make either pasta or rice. And then to have her try something new, he’ll put one green bean on her plate. She will sit for an hour and literally only lick it or chew a piece then spit it out, saying “I can’t!”

It’s very hard for me to see this and say or do nothing. I come from a big Italian family whose mother was a phenomenal cook. The whole family sat around the table, where every meal had the four food groups. There’s was salad or steamed broccoli or cucumber and tomato salads or something GREEN with every meal. She never used butter, only olive oil, sea salt and fresh ground spices from her garden. Everything was made from scratch, and although you didn’t have to eat everything on your plate, you had actually try new stuff and you ALWAYS had to eat most of your veggies to earn your dessert.

Yesterday his daughter had a Tablespoon’s worth of corn on the cob and to reward her he gave her three cookies. I could feel myself growing angry and disgusted. And last night, I mentioned that this was part of the problem. How can you eat so well and not impose the same good diet on your kids? How can you allow them to eat so much junk when they eat so little healthy foods? How can your daughter have such a small amount of corn and still be rewarded with such a large amount of crap? 

I blew my cover. I knew I wasn’t supposed to say anything like that to the man I love and respect. And yet, I couldn’t hold back anymore. And so, he got angry with me and pretty much said, “I’m a great dad. I am doing the best I can. SHe’s an extremely picky eater and I am trying. And you have no right judging me or telling me what to do about it. And I don’t want this to be a constant point of contention.” Those were not his exact words, but close enough. Basically, I just heard “Change your nature because I don’t like this side of you. It’s ugly and it better go away.”

My response? I told him I am judging him (and he’s judging me. We all judge each other every second of the day. He judged me in the beginning and concluded that I would make a worthy girlfriend, and I judged him too and decided he’d make a worthy boyfriend), but I am trying my hardest not to disrespect him. I told him he’s a wonderful dad in so many ways, but I don’t feel as though he does too well when it comes to nutrition and food. And as much as he tries to be perfect in every aspect of his life, he can’t,  and this is one of those times. And so, out of frustration to change and control the situation, I try to tell him that she “should be doing this,” or that she “should be doing that.” I also, rather inappropriately slip in passive aggressive comments like, in my jokey voice, “Pancakes again? Did you know pancakes have almost no nutritional value?”

I am a nightmare.

But despite defending myself rather well, on the whole, I felt ashamed. Deeply ashamed. I know what I need to be (tolerant and accepting of his behavior and his daughter’s own progress with food), but I simply cannot be that kind of person. I am not a laid back, easy going, accepting, tolerant individual. When something doesn’t sit right with me, I REMOVE MYSELF from the problem. I quit my job. I leave my marriage. I run away. I am a rigid, controlling, orderly person who expects the world to run according to MY PERSONAL VALUES. I worked so hard for them, after all. And how else do you get rid of that yucky feeling inside? In the past, all my relationships have been so disposable. I would just threaten to leave so as to attempt to change the other’s behavior. But now what do I do with someone who doesn’t respond to threats and immature manipulation like that? What do I do now that I am SUPPOSED TO BE HEALTHY?

Your guess is as good as mine.

Last night, I just felt like shit. I felt like every part of me was ugly. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I have many good qualities. I am flirty, fun, loving, deep, exciting, intelligent, versatile, colorful, creative, hard working, a good communicator, and a slew of other positive traits. But I am not easy going or accepting of things that don’t look and feel right to me. And so the whole picture of ME last night became tainted.

So, during this conversation, it’s not so much that I felt attacked (because D is very careful with his words and never flat out attacks), but I felt embarrassed and ashamed and tarnished. I felt unloved. And my ultimate response was, “Well, I can try to change my nature, but it probably won’t work, so if it really bothers you, you can always leave.”

Reverted back to my old way of handling stress because WHAT CAN I DO? I cannot run away. So, now what?

He said, “T, don’t throw that into conversation like that. I never want to take our relationship so lightly that breaking up would be a solution.”

“But I don’t know how to find a solution, D. It was always my way or the highway. I don’t know how to compromise. I feel so strange in this world of SHARING and ACCEPTING.  It feels odd and wrong to me. It feels uncomfortable and foreign. Like I’ve lost something, instead of gained. I feel crippled and helpless. Like I’m not up to the task of being in this relationship. I thought I was. But look at me.”

“I am looking at you, T. And I love you. I love you very much. ANd we’ll work something out.”

And that was that. I went back to reading To Kill a Mockingbird and slept 7 hours straight.

I have no happy ending to write about. No solution to post. No closure to this. I wish I could offer something up for you, but I haven’t figured it out yet.

Sleeping beauty

Posted on by l0velyjune
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The Lovers, Magrite

The Lovers, Magritte

 

It’s cold, it’s winter and so starts the dreaming…

I had this really sexy dream about, dare I say it, someone from FB. I’d give the initials but it’s just too risky. I don’t want anyone to know anything about what’s going on inside my little head aside from what I write here.  I will say that I think about this person from time to time, whenever they happen to pop up on a comment or post. But not more than that. And he’s not a good friend, mind you, none of the usual suspects, but just this guy for which I have been able to form some sense of curiosity. Good enough for a dream, anyway.

I can’t remember where I was but it must have been a party at someone’s house we happened to both be at, he and I and a bunch of other friends. But it was getting late and I found myself to be very sleepy, so I laid down on the floor in front of the TV. He came and sat beside me. He leaned down, very close into me and whispered in my ear, “don’t go to sleep,” and all my senses awakened. I could smell his clean skin and feel his breath, and hear his voice so clearly. And i remember thinking at that moment, I want this. And as i turned toward him, smiling and sleepy, I kissed his lips and touched his face. His hands ran down the length of my arm and over my hips and around to my belly and his face remained quite close to mine, smiling tenderly. And then I woke up. The moment was so sexy it woke me up. So…as is my custom, I will dream of this person all day.

This dream followed one of great horror. I was at another party, looking for G and someone said he was out in the courtyard. I went outside into this beautiful, Spanish-style sunny courtyard and there he was, in the corner, looking very sick and pale and he was sitting on one of those toilet seats on wheels with rail guards for handicapped people. Right out in the open courtyard. And he was shitting himself. And there was shit every where, all over the patio. But worst of all, I was barefoot and stepping in it. I ran over to him and being the caretaker I am, I said, “what are you doing? we need to clean you up.” And he just laughed at me and said, “this is who I am, baby. Get used to it.” I was so disturbed. 

This second dream was hugely symbolic. I had recently written an article about G on his uncanny ability to live green. As we’re dumping some 20 metric tons of C02 into the atmosphere every year, he’s only dumping about six. A heroic feat. So, I have been in contact with him more than usual. He came over last night with a beautiful bracelet that he had “acquired” for me. It was a Christmas gift. And the thought was quite nice. But my brother was over when he arrived and I was nervous about the dynamics. Mikie doesn’t like G too much. Never has. Anyway, G comes in looking more homeless than usual (are there actual degrees of “looking” homeless- yes). The dingy layers of black and gray hoodies, the dirt under the fingernails, the wirey Grampa Herman-looking side-burns. Oh! And the smell of fried foods from the diner. I have always loved G for who he is inherently, underneath the shoddy exterior. And when we were together I had a certain amount of influence over how he kept himself. But I was actually grateful last night that we are NOT dating anymore. I don’t know how I was able to put up with that. I see it as a sickness now. An inability to care for oneself. 

Anyway, we watched Superbad and had a few laughs. Mikie left around 8:30 and G around 10ish. No hugs, no kisses, no nothing. I was content about that. 

But I now see how my brain is translating the events and why I dreamed the dream about the sexy guy. G represents where I was and where I no longer wish to be. And the FB guy represents where I am headed. Whether anything ever comes of this FB guy and me is not the point. The point is that my brain craves maturity, intellect, sexuality, cleanliness, normalcy (one person in particular from the forums subtly helped to guide me to this realization). For a few years now I have been seeking out the superficial stuff– the musician, the rebel, the super sexy Rockabilly guy with tattoos and long hair. There is definitely a side of me that is drawn to that. But I have learned the hard way that those types of men don’t seem to answer my craving for normalcy– of which a huge part of me needs. It’s not that I have dated “bad” men or cruel-hearted men. It’s just that their goals and dreams are quite different from mine. 

I remember when I dated M, briefly. He used to say to me all the time, Tracy, I’m a family man. This freaked me out. Scared me to death. I didn’t want a family man. I wanted a rebel. I wanted a man who represented  where I wanted to go, who I wanted to be. I wasn’t able to make peace with the fact that I am a family woman. I’ve always resisted it. Like my suburban housewife friend SD always says, “I am not a suburban housewife.” Well, I too struggle with that reality. I am an artist. I belong with an eclectic clique of writers and illustrators and musicians. Don’t I? OK, in fantasy-world, yes. But my reality is quite different. My reality is that I am very family-oriented. I am a homebody. I enjoy my children. I can’t really live the life of a rebel. I’ve never been able to. When will I finally realize that?

Oh anyway…Despite needing to make peace with my reality, I’ll take a night of sexy dreams for now. I can’t come to terms with my whole life too fast. Besides, I quite enjoy the freedom of fantasy. And at least I am dreaming of a man who has kids. That’s a huge step for me. 

Obsessed

Posted on by l0velyjune
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When you’re obessing or fantasizing over one thing, one object, one act, one man, one whatever, you’re whole world has vanished down to a pinpoint. Obsession can be so destructive it can stunt growth. It takes away time from your life you can never get back. That’s the bad news. The good news is you can change.

What is obsession? Sure, the textbook definition is the state of being obsessed with someone or something. But what is it REALLY. From my experience, obsessing is what we do to avoid getting real with ourselves. It’s what we do to avoid pain. It keeps us lazy, immobile, narrowly focused, imprisoned. We lose control of our lives when we obsess. But, the truth is, we’re scared to death to do anything else. We’re afraid if we let go of our obsessive thoughts, we won’t understand the world. We’ll be derailed. We will..gasp!…have to actually think of other things!

Here’s a game you can play with your brain. It’s a thinking game.

Sit in a quiet room where you won’t be distracted for about an hour.

Turn off all cell phones, computers, iPods, music, TV etc. Complete quiet!

Now, if you have a stop watch, set it for one (1) minute.

What you basically have to do within that minute is think of anything you want. Anything! If your PoA pops into your head, that’s OK too.

Ready, set, go.

OK, how did you do? In your journal, write down any and all of the stuff you thought about. Now do the same game for 5 minutes. And repeat. What did you think about? Career? Hobbies? Work? Television? PoA?

Sadly, when I first did this, I learned a rather disturbing truth: I had nothing else to think about but my PoA. No art, no music, no current events. I knew NOTHING because I wasted so many years obsessing over a man.

And that’s when it hit me…I am the sum of your thoughts. SO, if my thoughts are only about one guy, I am not much else. This was a HUGE wake up call for me. I knew it was time to work as hard as possible to change that. And how did I do it? I got serious about forcing myself to think other thoughts. I picked up the book East of Eden by Steinbeck and read it. I looked online for graduate programs. I started to watch the news. When I talked to others, I moved the conversation toward neutral stuff–NOT relationships–I tried to learn about politics, art, music, etc. I thought of people who are deeply career driven and I tried to imitate them. What do they think about?

The more relevant stuff you put into your brain, the less chance it has to think IDLE thoughts!

Here’s another story about obsession:

I feel it coming on again. It’s as if my brain cannot ever be at rest. When one man goes, another one comes. Like spirits that possess the body without the self knowing.

I have shut off mentally to both S and G, with the occasional, lingering sad thought for S. But there’s someone else. Not physically, mind you. In fact, we only know of each other in the narrowest sense. He’s a long time friend of a friend. Recently divorced. I saw him for a SPLIT second at a wedding over the summer and though he was married then, his eyes burned a hole in me, he was staring so deeply. At the time I only thought, jerk. But now it all kind of makes sense. he and his wife were on their way to splitsville.  I was talking with her at the time and we were laughing about motherhood. She’s stunningly beautiful and I have always really liked her. She reminds me of me, but far more confident. That might be deceiving. But it has been my opinion for years. As for him, I have never had any conversation with him, EVER. He’s known as a bore.

So, time goes by and S and I are over and by a huge error in judgment, I cleared my status with S on facebook and “Tracy is no longer in a relationship with S…” came across EVERYONE’S newsfeed. I was humiliated, to say the least. However, it gave D (the new guy) a chance to flirt.

D is a lawyer. A successful one. He’s 38. Plays guitar. Lives on a farm. He likes witty, intelligent, sexy, Italian women who have a tendency to come on strong. This combination in my little fantasy-world is what has kept him in the forefront of my brain these past two weeks. He gives me stuff to think about. I can imagine happiness. Who can’t be happy with a lawyer who plays guitar on a farm? The more I think about this, the more perfect he becomes. And so starts the obsessing.

I am not obsessed with him yet, but it’s like this: If I don’t have thoughts of a MAN in my head (not just any man, but one whom I am interested in and who is showing me some sign of attention), I feel completely empty. Detached. Not a part of the world. It’s horrible.

So the obsessing keeps me connected. It keeps me grounded.

I have said before I am not ready to date. I dread the day I open my inbox only to find “how about a drink sometime after work?” I will surely go into a panic. But it is obviously my goal, albeit a subconscious one, to maintain connectivity to a man. That, I believe, is the definition of my love addiction.

How do I change that? I don’t know. If you have any clues. Please tell me.