Shoulda been a head shrinker...
Mood:
quizzical
Something Sass said about me the other day got me thinking...why is there no Mrs. Mustard to "make sandwiches" with? While her comments to me were flattering in a way probably only I could understand, through no fault of her own, something in those words struck a nerve and I think it is worth elaborating why.
All my mother ever wanted to do was to be a mother. To start a family, have children and do whatever it is that mothers do, not being one, the reasons for such escape me and I can only surmise from what I see and hear. I have lost count of how many times my mother has called herself a failure. More to follow.
We have already established the dicotomy with which I am saddled with, being the personification of both my parents' personalities. Around people I know, I am more my mother, strangers, my father. Bipolar not withstanding, every woman I encounter will, provided they stick around long enough, see two sides of me.
First there is the can't get enough of each other phase, where the sex is hot and emotions are wild and the newness of things permeates. Like I said, I am my father at first. He taught me well, being the gentleman and all that. I am not the type of guy that won't return a phone call when I say I will, or will be hesitant to meet family, in fact I like to get that out of the way. "Hello Mr. So and so, I am the one courting your daughter." That is something I do not like to have lingering. You can tell alot about a woman from her parents, and more than once I have ended things because of who her parents are. And I am not talking superficial, as in looks or money or car or whatever, I have no problem telling you where to go if you thought that. What I am talking about is how they interact, how they relate to eachother. The relationship they have speaks volumes about what ours will be like, how our potential children will affect us, and also, how she will treat me. Last girlfriend used her parents as ammo against me, saying I can't see you cuz my parents don't approve and if she hadn't of done so I would have broken up with her cuz her parents were bad people. Bullshit, but I learn.
So all this paternal logic and thought eminates as initially I am my father and that is what's going thru my head as I am caught up in emotional turmoil, not necessarily bad, just upheaval, things everywhere, like my mother. I can't help it, he is a forward thinker and a provider and does everything he can at the expense of his own happiness to see his family provided for and well off. That is what I admire so much about him, his selflessness and devotion to duty and honor.
But like my mother, yes, back to her, eventually she will see my mother's contribution to my psyche. Growing up, my mother, although we did not have the best relationship, was the only constant in the household. That's what she wanted, if you recall. Like her, the decisions I make are for the most part out of feeling rather than thought. I have gotten into so much trouble because I am that way. So needless to say, things were never quite kosher amongst mommy and the kids. So arguements and disagreements seem inevitable, and as history has shown, they are...
Like my father I think and process information the same way he does, logically, which does not mesh well with how my mother acts. But my tendency to act like my mother while thinking like my father eventually will permeate into my relationship. You see, I would always counter my mother with my father's thought process then I would turn around and act just like her. Which would make her even more pissed off because I rebutted her then went ahead and fucked up anyway. So yeah, things will eventually get quite heated between myself and whomever I am in love with at the time. It's all or nothing with me, you should know that by now.
For all the time spent with my mother, it is no wonder why I look for things in women that remind me of her. Not in an Oedipus sort of way, get your heads out of the gutter, but being the ONLY woman in my life for so long, her qualities have a certain way of being more desirable than others. That is something I find quite ironic, all the longer relationships I have had are because of how much of my mother I see in these women. Growing up with only my mother in the house, the arguments and disagreements I have with my girlfriend always seem to boil down to the same ol things my mother and I used to fight about. I won't elaborate but suffice it so say it's quite freaky. Things get over analyzed, blown out of proportion or what have you, and they are all small things. Nothing is trivial and I am becomming aware of this but not soon enough and that is where I eventually fail. And I always do.
The ironic thing is, there is some comfort to all of this. All the fighting and bickering and complaining, and small moments of joy intersperced here and there reminds my so much of home that I am not really bothered by it. I have come to accept that fighting and disagreements are just part of the process and I am at home with it, because that is how I grew up. Unless something truely bothers me, there is really no emotion one way or another and there is no telling when something might irk me, I can't even tell sometimes. That lack of emotion becomes too much for her at the time to handle. I have become numb to the bickering and arguing that it rarely phases me outside of the immediate and then goes away as fast as it showed up provided it showed up at all. Most girls find that hard to grasp, like I just don't care or could not be bothered; it is too difficult to try and explain it to them in a way that leaves them feeling less than insulted at best and like dirt usually. I guess they can't take it, or they want more I don't know, but like I said, its all or nothing with me. If I cannot be myself then it is not ME you are dating. And it will never work out.
So the point to all of this is, I am quite comfortable with turmoil and upheaval. I spent my entire life with it so I am accustomed to things not working out or going sour, numb like I said. I am learning to listen more than anything else as nothing is trivial and not every problem needs a solution. However comfortable with the situation I am, SHE may not be. I am not saying I like to argue and more often than not I try to difuse it like my father does, with logic, but like my mother and myself as well, it does not sit too well with an emotional female. Especially when all the feelings we have toward eachother are thrown in the middle. And there are a lot, and they develop rather rapidly. It's like that with me. You know this.
But who knows, it could just be that I attract girls with problems and I am just a patchwork of spare parts at best, so once that becomes common knowledge, it all comes crashing down. And like the rest of my life, I am reduced to picking thru rubble, trying to find something that works.
I know exactly how those in Fla feel right now, sifting thru the remains, hopeless, lifeless, your entire life was that home, there was som much history there. The notches in the door frame as little Jimmy grew up. The A+ paper magnetted to the refrigerator Sally wrote on her father being a fireman and bringing his helmet in for show and tell. The old rocking chair that your grandfather built, handed down every generation. Now it's all gone. And just when you think all is lost, you find that photo, in a mangled and busted frame, of the family down at the shore that one summer and it all comes back to you. You are standing on just a bunch of wood and stone, nothing more. You are at peace and you know nothing but joy. The sun shines a bit brighter that day and you need only look within yourself to know you are at home, where you belong.
That is my eternal struggle, sifting thru remains of a battered existance for some semblance of life and love. Found little things along the way and those I do cherrish. But alas, to the woman of my life, your photo, your picture escapes me. And for that, I will never find a place to call home.
Sass, I hope this helps answer your question.
Revealed to the masses
at 4:53 AM EDT
