It's a personal issue I've dealt with since I was young. To start off, my grandmother was adopted. I know she was taken in by a wonderful family which came to be my own, but I can't grasp the notion of someone leaving a beautiful woman like herself for another family. And then my mother- she was adopted as well. Maybe you can infer adoption another way, but in these specific instances all I can see is abandonment. Why? Why did her parents decide not to raise her, to see her grow up and become successful, to have a wonderful family, to be grandparents to my siblings and me?
My idea of abandonment grew more prominent as I saw the divorce of my grandparents. My grandfather, a gambler, alcoholic, and murderer left my family and moved to warmer sands. We weren't the lifestyle he wanted. Thanks. Calls are few and far between and we're lucky if he remembers our names. I should feel good knowing that bastard is out of our lives, but I can't help wanting him around.
Significant deaths in the family have also left me feeling abandoned. I understand in these cases, my abandonment was not intentional, but the pain still occurs.
Intimate relationships have caused me the most pain and have instilled my fear of being alone. I've slept with my fair share of men, thinking that if I gave myself to them I would be loved in return. I learned quickly that love was more than a good fuck. I know I hurt the people I cared for and loved the most, but I can't be the only cause of every one of my relationship's downfalls. I was a fragile girl, needing guidance and support. I received it on occasion, but I was too shy to let anyone know how I was really feeling.
My only survival skill was self-learned, and self-inflicted. But it was the only relationship I knew I could count on. I've only ever loved one man before now, besides my father that is. He treated me well, and I confided in him. But I came to believe that I was only someone he wanted to save. After years of being apart, we reunited once again. But we came back to the original dilemma- he was trying to save me. And I know it was more than that, he did care for me. But we grew entirely apart, wanting different things. Then came the literal abandonment. I know I was the first to abandon him, but our conclusion could have ended differently.
All of my experiences have made me entirely too fearful. I want to trust him, my boy, with every bone in my body, but I keep hearing my mother's cautious words swirling in my head, "the only man you'll ever be able to count on is your father." It's like I'm swaying on deck, debating within myself on whether I should crack my concrete exterior, or seclude myself inside.
The thought of this relationship become a desolate image on the horizon is too much for me to bear. It's not even the thought of being alone anymore, it's the thought of being without him. When I wake up in his arms, it's like nothing I've ever experienced. And I want all of these wonderful feelings to stick. He is the one I want to be with, to love, to cherish, to share my dreams, my success, my entire life with. It's something I can't quite put my finger on, but I know I don't want to lose him.
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