11th March 2016
(And also to that one anonymous reader who replied “yes, they would like to read what I told my therapist”)
This is now my third draft of the same letter. It’s weird – even though this blog is anonymous and nothing in it ties it to me, the person behind the monitor, I don’t want to spill certain things. It will come out eventually. All in due time, child.
I’ve settled on telling you something that’s normal. So normal, you probably talk about this to your friends all the time. That being L-O-V-E. God, I cringed even as I wrote that. But yeah, my therapist bought this up and I realised I haven’t had a crush in two years now. That is a ridiculous amount of time.
One on hand, my illness makes it hard for me to socialise. I don’t even have friends because I don’t want to tell anyone about it or risk them finding out. Having a relationship is out of the question for the sake of my dignity. Also, I’m not the most attractive person out there. I’d say I’m average; a 6. A strong 8 when my hair doesn’t look like a bird’s nest on my head. I wouldn’t want to embarrass this person that I probably like very much. Thirdly, my therapist has told me numerous times that I have a predisposition to stay clear of any relationships, romantic or otherwise, because people have a history of letting me down.
On the other hand, wouldn’t that be great? The constant affirmation that “yes, you look good”. Someone that you could take as your plus one anywhere. Someone to talk to when you’re bored, and not. Someone to share your experiences with. Or someone to gush to when you really like something. Someone that really cares about you.
I feel sad, in a nostalgic way, when I think about my dry period of love. I miss having butterflies. I miss it when that person looked your way and you were like “Oh my god, they looked at me.” Has my heart switched off its romantic side? Can that happen? Please, do find out and let me know asap.