Unrequited Love And Why I Deserve Better

Love, or rather unrequited love.  That's the stuff of which tragedies are made.  It's a hopeless situation when you're in love with someone and they do not return that love.  It's a self-inflicted, soul destroying, torture of epic proportions, that can have only one possible outcome.  And as if this were not enough, the path of unrequited love is fraught with the very serious danger of losing yourself entirely in a one-sided love affair that will consume you and that will devour your own soul, utterly.  It is a path that will eventually, not only break your heart, but destroy your heart entirely.  Trust me, I've been there, I know.

Why would someone put them self through this?  After all, unrequited love is a truly masochistic pastime.  It defies sound reasoning and is devoid of any semblance of logic.  One would have to be mad to do such a thing, wouldn't they?  The answer is of course, that love is not formed in the head, it is created with the heart.  With anything that is of the heart, it in tinged with a touch of madness.  The heart doesn't listen to reason, sound judgement and logic.  The heart flies free on a whim, it grasps hold of dreams and it speaks of love.  And love, once it has you in its clutches, is a very hard beast to escape.  The heart acts of its own free will, it does as it pleases, and if you allow it, it will lead you, or rather, it will pull you along at breakneck speed, right on down the path of love.  Once it begins, it becomes an unstoppable force, propelling you further and deeper, ever on, and like the light from a black hole, it is not possible to fight, nor flee the pull of its gravity.

In my own life, I have suffered greatly in the pursuit of what I believed at the time to have been love.  Of course, it could never have been true love, since the feelings were only on my side, a constant stream of one way love, projected outwards and very little of anything received in return.  All I ever did was to bang my head against the proverbial brick wall.  There was no way through, no matter how hard I tried.  The perverseness of the situation was that the more resistance I met, the harder I pushed and the more determined I became to succeed.  Something propelled me forward, it drove me ever on, in the process I took many knocks on the chin, but I just kept jumping right back in there.  My perseverance was surely going to pay off, my demonstration of my commitment and determination would succeed, after all, what woman doesn't want a man who will fight for her love tooth and nail? 

How did I ever get myself into these situations, and more importantly, why would I allow this to happen?  Yes, that is deliberately plural, for I have found myself in these situations on several occasions.  Each time I said it would be different, I would succeed, that I had learned the lessons of my previous failures.  I was wrong.  Even when I did not want to become involved, even when I understood clearly that the situation would be toxic to me, some how, at a certain point in time, I discovered that it was already too late - I was caught, unbeknown to me, my heart had secretly been at work.

I have never found love easy to come by.  I've spent long periods of time without even a hint of a romantic encounter.  It's was never that I was not looking, I always was, but opportunities were few and far between.  I lived my life with the constant feeling of being unlovable, I viewed myself as unattractive, and I had a shyness around women, a feeling that they would never find me remotely interesting.  Words would catch in my throat, nothing would come out.  If opportunities had been there, I never saw them because I could never believe someone would be interested in me.  This is exactly why, when someone did show me just a hint of interest, I jumped at it and seized upon it, grasping on and holding tight, even if that meant that the situation was far from ideal.  When one of these women told me that they had a barrier to letting someone in, a barrier to love because of the hurt caused by a previous relationship, or that they already had a boyfriend, I told myself that I just needed to be patient, that eventually they would see the qualities I could offer, that I was the right person for them and eventually they would see it too.

Looking back, I suppose I could view these situations as a form of teasing.  I was being given just enough attention to keep me interested, but never being given anything close to anything truly meaningful.  I was dangling on a thread and they were toying with me.  And like an idiot, I stayed there and let them do it.  It was wholly unfair of these women to do that to me, but perhaps they did not know, nor did they understand my vulnerabilities.  How could they have known, since I never showed them, and I did not know them myself.  Each one of these women must have seen something in me, each must have wanted something, needed some emotional connection that was lacking in their current life and relationship, if they were having one.  I became the person that would fill that void for them, perhaps even to reaffirm that the person they were with was right for them, to get them through a sticky patch.  It just occurred to me that I had a complete lack of respect and sense of dignity for myself.  This was all I believed I was worth.  No.  This is all the love that I believed I was worth.

Each time one of these situations arose, I invested great amounts of time and effort, giving up my own life in the process, and sacrificing time with friends and family in the pursuit of this conquest.  All my thoughts were bent on it.  The longer that the situation persisted, the more it would slowly and inevitably consume me, until I was utterly lost in it.  I firmly believed that eventually my love and the attention that I was giving would break down any resistance to me, that I would over come the barrier to mutual love.  I imagined it to be like water slowly eroding away rock until given enough time, the rock wears away, the dam breaks, and the water flows free.  Of course, I was wrong.  At some juncture, out of a huge frustration and desperation, I would push as hard as I could and I would bring everything to a head.  I could take it no more, it was win or bust. And bust it was every time, and I was inevitably left alone, nursing my broken heart once more.

There is perhaps another reason why I let these situations occur in my life and it was only last year that I finally uncovered this truth: I have always felt that I was undeserving of love.  With this knowledge, I have been able to clearly see where I have gone wrong throughout my life.  It makes it abundantly clear to me why I pursued and persisted in these situations that were extremely damaging to me and that never had a chance of working out.  I felt I was wholly unworthy of being loved in the right way, the true way, and so I immersed myself in a toxic and negative kind of love, because that was the kind that I believed myself to be deserving.  My life has been an endless pursuit of love in one form or another and I am sure that this is also a contributing factor to why I settled for something less than perfect.  I just needed something, anything, just some form of attention and to know that I was wanted - something for which I have been bereft my entire life.  When I think about it now, I rue the time that I lost in these situations, time that I could have spent with someone who actually accepted me for the person that I am and who would give their love freely to me.  I might have met them, if I had not been so completely and hopelessly caught up in the wrong kind of love with someone who did not truly want me.  I have been such a fool, but I cannot regret my actions, since they brought me to here and to now, and to the person that I have become.

And here I am.  Finally I understand all of this.  I know now why I did these things, why I put myself through such torture and torment.  I have learned to love myself, to forgive myself and perhaps more importantly, to accept myself.  I am at last at the place where I needed to be in order to discover the right kind of love, the kind of love for which I am deserving.  I will never allow myself to go down the road of unrequited love again.  I will never be tricked into following that path.  For I am worthy of being loved and if you do not see that, then you have no place in my life.  Do not waste my time. Don't even try it.  Unrequited love is the path of doom, and I for one, am done with that path forever.  I know that somewhere out there, there is a person that carries the right kind of love and who wants to give that freely, with no impediment.  She is searching for me, seeking me out, as I am seeking for her.  Her heart calls, as mine calls.  It is only a matter of time and circumstance, because I know that we will meet.  

~ ~ ~

Unrequited Love Poem

On the bed

Lost and lonely

There I lie

Listening to the falling rain

Drops of life

Pitter patter to the ground

Dejected, rejected

It's happened again

I let myself belief

What a fool!

Always a fool

Dear precious heart

Why?

Do we never learn

Will we ever learn?

Or to go on

Blindly stumbling

In the dark

The long cold night

It bites at us

Seeps through our skin

A wind blows

Tinged with bitterness

I don't regret

Won't regret

That I tried

I believed

And here I am

Again

Alone

With the rain

That falls in my heart

And one drop

Runs down my cheek.

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The Unforeseen Rewards Of The Path

Georgia was not normal.  That much was very evident.  Her manner of speech, her demeanour, her physical shape, the way her face looked, everything shouted at me that something was wrong, but whatever it was, I just could not put my finger on it.  Here we were, on the boat, heading out to a dive site, so that Georgia could make her very first dive in the ocean.  To say that I was concerned would be an understatement.  I feared that something was going to go wrong, that she would cause me no end of problems, that would have the potential to place her own life, and mine, in danger.  If I was honest with myself, I'd rather not have been there, I'd rather she had decided she didn't want to dive, I even considered faking an ailment so another instructor would have to take her.  But she did and I didn't, and so there we both were, each of us nervous in our own way.

The previous day, Mike, her father, had come and asked me if his seventeen year old daughter could try scuba in the hotel swimming pool.  Every guest is offered the chance to try scuba try for free, and so I said of course she could.  That was before I knew who Georgia was.  When I was introduced to her, I could see straightaway that it was going to be problematic.  Her size and shape were awkward to say the least, she was not tall, around five feet, and she was very overweight.  At the front of the buoyancy vests we use for scuba diving, is a large Velcro cummerbund and even on the largest vest that we had, it would barely fit around her.  But it was not her physical appearance that caused me most concern though, it was the way and the manner in which she spoke.  She was quiet and apologetic in the extreme, as if everything were her fault, or she was the cause of all of the problems.  Even when the Velcro of the cummerbund attached itself to her swimming costume, she apologised as if somehow, she had caused the problem.  My immediate reaction was that she was suffering from some kind of mental illness, that she was perhaps retarded in some way.  As I worked with her, talking her through how the scuba unit worked and what I needed her to do, I could see that she was intelligent and I also began to see something else.  I started to see that Georgia was possessed of an extremely endearing quality, she had an incredibly soft and sensitive nature.

With my help, Georgia managed to breathe her first breaths under the pool water and afterwards, as I removed her equipment, Mike asked if they would be able to go diving with me the next day, on an experience resort dive (PADI Discover Scuba Diving).  My instinct was to say no, it could not be done, but I had no actual reason for denying them the opportunity, so I asked Mike quietly whether Georgia was mentally sound and I asked him to complete the necessary medical questionnaires before proceeding any further, as I was sure there would be some issues which would prevent them from going.  There were none.

The next morning, I met up with them both again and took them through some basic instruction at the pool, to ensure their comfort, safety and enjoyment in the ocean.  Georgia experienced some issues with a couple of the skills and every time she did, she would stand up and apologise profusely to me. I don't know what it was, but I started to like her very much, I saw through the exterior to her soul inside.  We worked everything through, until I was satisfied with both of their performances.  After we were finished in the pool, Mike explained that Georgia was extremely sensitive and that sudden, loud noises could potentially set off a panicked reaction.  At the time, I thought it was just her general mental state of mind and it added to my nervousness for the afternoon.  I really was not looking forward to the diving.  Under the water, if someone suffers a panic, it can be dangerous and potentially life threatening.  I thought it through and again, I could find no actual reason not to dive, I just needed to take a lot of precautions and a lot of time with them. 

Mike introduced me to his wife and Georgia's stepmother, Samantha.  She thanked me for taking the time to take Mike and Georgia out diving, and then she said, "You are just the right person for Georgia.  You're extremely patient, kind, caring and very sensitive towards her needs.  I'm pleased it's you that is taking them out.  Please bring them back safely to me."  I was extremely humbled by these kind words and they sank into my heart and there, they made a warm glow.

And then, there we were, on the boat, approaching our first dive site.  Full of trepidation and concern, I found myself in the water with Georgia and Mike, ready to begin our descent.  I expected the worst, that Georgia would panic, that there would be some issue.  She gave me none.  Instead, the problem came from Mike, who panicked and forgot the training I had given him during the morning.  Thankfully, I had ensured that the first dive was very shallow, so that if anything were to go wrong, I could minimise any risk of danger.  Back at the surface, I asked Mike if he wanted to return to the boat and sit out the first dive, to take a breather and get himself together, and he agreed.  I descended again with Georgia.

Georgia was no problem at all.  Instead, she gave me perhaps one of my most memorable times under the water with a new diver.  It didn't matter what Georgia saw, whether it was a fish, a sea star, a sponge, or a clam, each time she squealed in delight and pleasure.  When I found her a small stingray that had buried itself under the sand, she pointed excitedly at it and squealed.  As the ray lifted from the sand and glided away from us, I heard her gasp in awe.  Here was someone utterly taken over by her experience, lost in her own delight and wonder, here was someone who reminded me of my own first time on scuba.

Mike decided that he wanted to overcome his panic and fear and to make the second dive.  The three of us descended together and I decided I would take complete control of them both.  I spent my entire dive, holding Georgia's tank in my left hand and Mike's in my right, with me, in the between and just slightly above them.  I was not able to point out any interesting aquatic life forms form them, but that didn't really matter.  They were both happy to be down there and to be together.  As I swam with them, I watched as they held hands and shared this experience, father and daughter.  Then, I saw one of the most beautiful sights, as Georgia formed her hands into the shape of a heart for her father, and Mike did the same back to his daughter.

Back on the boat after the dive, something happened.  Georgia began to cry and Mike put his arm around her and cuddled her.  "Is she okay?", I enquired, feeling very concerned that something had gone wrong, that she had perhaps hurt her ears by not equalising the pressure correctly, or she had been stung by some form of aquatic life.  I was not prepared for Mike's reply.  "Today is the eighth anniversary of her mother's death."  He said it calmly, and it took me a second or two to comprehend what he had said.  Not only was that Georgia's mother, it had also been Mike's wife.  I sat there completely stunned.

Suddenly, things began to make sense.  Georgia's sensitive nature, her constant apologies, her quietness, her anxiety of sudden loud noises, and those words that Samantha had spoken.  All of it came together and as it did, so too did the realisation of what it all meant.  I could of course, not ask a question to Mike about it, I can only guess and surmise, and I'll never be completely sure, but in my heart, I'm feel that I have the right answer.  Georgia was nine years old when she lost her mother in some form of accident.  My guess is that Georgia was there too and in some way, she holds herself responsible for it.

I am not going to end this post on a sad note because there is something very good in all of this.  What I realised yesterday, was that because of my care, sensitivity, empathy and patience, I introduced a young girl to a new experience, an experience that thrilled her and gave her such an incredible memory.  Her father and step mother told me that she will talk about the experience for years to come, and I do not doubt that for one moment.  For a father and a daughter, I helped them share an experience that will bond them together.  But more than any of this, yesterday, because of my patience, my kindness and my empathy, I helped two people to begin to replace a terrible, tragic memory, with something good.  I helped them to have a special, positive remembrance of that fateful day, that took away the life of the woman that they both loved.  Perhaps it is not much, but perhaps it is the first ray of light, on a very dark day.

These are the rewards of the path.  Because I dared to take a chance and to alter my life, I was there when I was needed.  I made the difference.  The universe rewards those that dare to follow the voice of their heart, and it does it in ways that you could never possibly begin to imagine, that you can never begin to comprehend.  Those rewards await you too, they are always there, waiting for you on your one true path.

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