stone-hearted

9.12.2016

I don't love easily. That doesn't sound very good, and it makes me glad that no-one is reading this. My first REAL love, other than my pups (which was also very real love!) was my love for my husband, Derek. I was in my 30s. That's a long time to wait to REALLY love. I remember thinking, until that time, that something must be very wrong with me. I never felt connected to my family, or loved the way I heard/read it described. (How can you, when your earliest memories are of being judged, not loved?) Then I met Derek....and it was REALLY slow going. It took us almost 2 years to exchange those words, and the first time he said them to me, we were piled in bed with his kids one morning, laughing and being silly. It wasn't a romantic moment. I think it just hit him in that moment that this was real--we had become a family, he could trust me and I wasn't going to hurt him as he'd been hurt before, and he could have faith in, rather than fear of, what his future looked like. We still moved slowly, but with far more assurance. A few years after this, I clearly remember an August day (two months after we married, in fact) when I was standing on the grey slate floor in the entry of our house, looking at family photos I'd hung, and I had this realization wash over and through me that I really loved this man--in a way that would devastate me if I ever lost him. And five months later, I did lose him.

I don't love easily. I feel deeply (for animals, for plants, for the environment...but not as much for people). I care hugely--even for people :-) I over-empathize...I remember as a very young child hearing the Golden Rule (do unto others as you would have others do unto you), and weaving an extravagant story in my mind about the kinds of things I would do when I grew up, spending my life treating other people the way I fantasized about being treated, making other people feel important and loved. I remember thinking that the world was nearly infinite, and if there were black people then there MUST be plaid people somewhere, too--and it must have been even harder for them than for black people, so vowing to make a place for them to live safely and happily. I was a philanthropist donating kindness, rather than money, as it was all my young brain understood and had to offer. Reaching out, touching others, helped me to feel something that I didn't otherwise feel. It connected me in some way and gave me a sense of humanness I didn't otherwise experience.

But real love...that's different. I sometimes feel like the shell of my heart is "normal"--but that at the heart of my heart it's nearly impenetrable stone. I don't know if that's a trust issue, or if I was simply "made wrong." I don't want it to be that way...but I have NO idea how to change it. My nephew, though...he knows how. He is 6 years old, and somehow when he picks up the phone and says "I love you, Aunt Missy," that stone turns to dust. He called me today and after an hour I had to tell him I had to get off the phone. He wanted to console me over the loss of Sammy, invite me to drive to his house (7 hrs, sadly) to spend the night with him, share his dog Gus with me. He had Gus talk on the phone to me ("I love you, Aunt Missy, arf! I can't wait to see you, Aunt Missy, arf!) He and Gus are going to help me pick out my next pup. He spent 10 minutes trying to convince me to buy the house next door to him, because it will be for sale soon. He will "protect it" until I graduate in December, then I can get a job at a hospital that is only 30 minutes from the house. Gus and my puppy can play together. He has it all figured out. And I have to admit that even though my brother and I don't even speak, I would actually consider uprooting my life for this little creature that mysteriously breaks my heart and simultaneously fills it. It is a love that almost physically hurts, yet it's a good hurt! I know this is what parents feel...but I never expected to feel it myself, and I don't know HOW I do. I'm grateful, though.

I don't love easily. I don't know if I'll ever find love like I found with Derek...though I am more open to it in my life now than I have ever been before, because Derek taught me what it feels and looks like and how to recognize and accept and believe in it. But if I don't, maybe loving this little boy (and a new pup!!) will be enough.