psychotic love

Another Home Within A Home

So people tell me I’m too nice.  That’s all okay.  I would rather be that then too mean? Too self involved? Too untrusting? Too unloving?

Seriously? What is wrong with being too nice.  There are adjustments to make if you choose to remain so in a life that is not so nice, but really, what is wrong with being outside of the norm?  Last post I wast writing about home.  About coming home to blood, and the difference between healthy psychotic love and not so healthy.

I spoke to my daughter today who is one of my healthy psychotic loves, and she was describing atoms and quarks and fascinated by the fact that the further the something something is the closer they are, like an elastic.  She brought up the cellphones, but I said, they lose connection… so I was not in total understanding of the elasticity between atoms, and quarks, and such.  I could understand one thing though.  The elasticity of two people who love each other and when they are apart, the feeling becomes stronger.  A bit of psychotic love… depending on whether its a desire, or a want, or a need, or love period.  Is the distance when in love perceived as inticing? or is it pleasant because of the distance? or is there a true longing to be back together, like the elastic that my daughter was talking about? … I don’t think I had the elastic band feeling ever… with my ex husband.  Did a bit with my ex-boyfriend, but that was different psychotic love that will get to later after I’m over my ex husband story.

I liked him being away.  I liked him gone.  I felt free.  His long trips made me happy.  I did love him psychotically, but his presence made me feel diminished.  Small.  Ugly.  Nothing.  He never could really fulfill my need for just love. I didn’t want expectations.  I wanted a friend.  I never had that with him. YET, when he was away, he wrote me the most beautiful letters.  Back when we wrote letters.  And I missed his written word, that I never got the same emotional level in person.  I think I fell in love with the writer, but the person behind the writer was not the same.  We started our relationship in letters, ended it in words.  Maybe we should have written letters to each other more… 😉  All good though.  Glad to be with me today.

I don’t hate him.  Sad he kind of stole my beautiful youth in a way, but funny thing is I still feel young enough to enjoy what is left of my life.  This because I have built a beautiful world of family and friends around me that allow me to stay feeling young and happy and secure.  I also love myself more then ever.  Definitely not psychotically… LOL… but really in a good way.

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