Heart Disease

Relationships are always a difficult subject for me. I have little to no social needs, I’m psychologically independent and I don’t seek anyone for validation. I’ve never been initially attracted to any of my partners, not physically or even intellectually, as it takes a stupid amount of time to decide if I actually like them as a person, let alone a relationship candidate. It’s not something that is forced, anything remotely appearing like an attempt to woo is shot down; it’s just a realisation that “I find this person compatible, and project long term sustainability”.

The way into my heart – if you could call it that – is through my head, and it’s not just a raw intellectual quotient either, it’s a deep sense of understanding. It is not something that can be artificially cultivated and  because of the time it takes, there is a lot of historical behavioural data to compare. It’s like some mysterious frequency that we both work on. Nothing needs to be said, no explaining needs to be done, it’s all there.

Then comes the horrible game of poker in betraying my feelings to an equally emotionally inept target or visa versa and if I internally commit then I’m screwed. Relationships hit some very raw emotions and they send me haywire. Horrid things these emotions are; nervous, excited, vulnerable, and a bunch which don’t have names. My emotional life is in a dark cave, and this exercise essentially sends me rocketing towards The Sun.

Interestingly, the precursor friendships are more like relationships for most of the part. Due to the nature of who and what resonates with me, it seems that we spend most of the time completely oblivious as to what is going on.  It’s like we’re close enough to treat each other as though we’re in a relationship and entering one is a formality. Sometimes I wish they stayed as friendships, but being so close and yet so far is unrelentingly maddening due to the constant calculations of “if”.

Withdrawal is terrible after a relationship fails, regardless of why or when. I never intend to ever give away my psychological independence but for whatever reason, it takes me years to recover. I fall apart, fall out of sync with myself and go through a protracted and rocky process of recovery. Something that is completely illogical and almost inconceivable to me, as normally zero fucks are given if I choose to push someone away. Normally I don’t care, but in this case, the hurt button is mashed to a point that it takes ages to pull myself together. It’s not from a lack of trying, however it’s best described as a little egg timer in my head that suddenly goes off and then I’m over it, albeit years later.

If anyone manages to get through the fortress, they always seem to take my only prized possession; my sanity.