Capturing Feelings

I need to capture this, because I really want to explore it further. And the way my mind seems to work these days is that I don't hold on to pain, sadness, or strong emotions for very long. They come, and they can be strong and intense, and in the moment I am very much a part of them. And I pay attention to them. And I experience them fully.

But they pass so swiftly. And I am often left wondering "why was I so upset? why was I so worked up about..."

Yesterday. I told Jack that I wanted to have my own time last night. It was just a feeling that I had - it was for no reason (not disinterest, not irritation, not boredom) - just that I wanted to be alone.

It took me the better part of the morning, struggling with how to tell him. How to convey that it wasn't a personal attack, how to just let him know it's simply what I wanted. How to be ok with telling him that. I finally blurted it out. "I'd like to be alone, tonight."

Had I paid attention to what he said. "I think that's a great idea." and to his body language (relaxed, comfortable, indulgent, even); I might have been able to let it go. But instead, I crawled into this familiar pattern of worry and guilt. I spent the entire day talking to myself, justifying this need to be alone, to myself. And I felt rotten. Close to tears. Emotional. And so guilty. Guilty that I wanted to be alone. That I wanted to go out and listen to music and be without him. Not because I didn't enjoy his company. Just because it was something that I wanted to do. Be on my own. Be comfortable being on my own.

I wrestled with this the entire day. Amazingly. All day. I felt rotten. Like I had broken some rule, that it was wrong, somehow, to choose myself over someone else. I felt dirty. I felt like I needed to buy him a gift to make it up to him. I felt like I was being selfish.

And, on some level, thankfully, I realized that this is one of my greatest patterns. My greatest fears. To not take the time for me. To not be selfish enough to cultivate my own space. And to enjoy and nurture that space, and that relationship with me.

Because if I don't. If I can't. I certainly won't be much of anything to anyone. I won't be me. I will just morph myself into whomever I am with. And I will be lost.

Later on that evening, we chatted on the phone. And with a burst of tumbled words, and tears, I told him that I had felt this way. And that it had scared me. And that I didn't understand where the guilt came from, and why, and how I could learn to let it go. He said he didn't have the answers to those questions, but he was interested in helping me discover them. And that he appreciated that I had the courage to tell him how I had felt. He said that it suprised him how utterly different our perspectives were from the day - how he had felt peace and freedom with my request; happy that I had felt comfortable enough to ask him for space; and happy with that space.