Ghosts in The Attic

I can’t say I have ever been a happy person. I think by the age of 12 I was just generally severely unhappy and isolated. I didn’t fit in well with other kids. I was awkward and went off on weird tangents about weird topics no one cared about. I was insufferably lonely; something that would lead me to desperately seek out any attention from boys as I got older. Traumas that may or may not have fully evaporated by now.

My desire to be wanted, needed, loved; put me in some dark places and I needless to say never found anything other than heartache, verbal and physical abuse. A good decade and a half of me being in garbage relationships with no self esteem, led to a move 1000 miles away, and the decision to reflect. If I keep getting into bad relationships, then clearly I am the problem. People choose bad people, because they think so poorly of themselves or love too toxically that they blow past all the red flags because obviously they are just misunderstandings right? He didn’t really mean what he said, he was just angry. Maybe it’s normal to be yelled at and accused of cheating all the time. I must have done something to set him off.

And that was where the cycle stopped. I took a step back, a long way back and said clearly I have a problem and I need to reevaluate myself. I settled into my parents house with my child, like I had many times before when I just couldn’t hack it in the world, and let myself breathe relief and loneliness again. This time, loneliness was a welcome sight for me. I still chatted with men, even flirted, but only with those who were hours and hours away. Ones who I would probably never see again or never meet; content that there would never be any demands of me and my time. I kept everyone at arms reach.

The move here removed me from my hometown and all of my friends. I never really made any back after that. The old me would be desperate to be around others, but I had my little family. Mom, Dad, child. That’s really all I needed. Besides, I’d only flake on people anyway, keeping them at arms distance knowing that if I got too attached I’d just end up sad when they ghosted me. I’ve tried making friends over the years and it’s always the same song and dance, we talk a bit hang out a few times, text “oh we need to hang out again” back and forth until one or the other slowly fades away. Maybe other people experience this too. I hear there is an epidemic of loneliness, but I swear I constantly see people’s social media with their friends on vacation together, at parties and outings. I can’t even manage a lunch date.

I was set to live this life too, content even with myself for once. Until I met him. I wasn’t looking for anyone. In fact I had made the decision to never date again. I hated the idea of being with someone, love=hurt and I didn’t want that. My big boss brought her grandson into work one day and there he was, a chubby guy, big beard and glasses, looking like an absolute goober. I’m not sure why I locked on to him as quickly as I did, but I slid right up to talk to him of course. He’s my equivalent of the peak male form. He looked friendly too. Kind eyes and a real smile. The kind that made you feel special.

Casual meeting. Casual laughter. We crack witty jokes playing off each other. He’s cute, he’s an natural. I go back to my desk. Nothing comes of the interaction he leaves and I finish my day. Three weeks later, my big boss comes and hands me a piece of paper with a number scribbled on it. She say’s “he won’t stop asking about you. If you don’t like him don’t tell me.” I have a number and a name. Mike. I figure I could use a friend at the very least. 4 days later he was in my bed. The next day we were dating. 2 months later he moved in.

I really have no concept of how to take things slow and not be recklessly irresponsible. in one week I had decided he was the guy I was going to marry. Everything was right. He was perfect. There were no red flags. He listened and was attentive. He carried great conversations. Affectionate and a passionate lover. It was the whole deal so I thought.

That was 6 years ago. I really did in fact luck out. Every time I look at that man my heart melts. When he sees me, no matter how long he’s been gone, 5 minutes or 5 hours, he looks at me with the most pure sense of joy and happiness. That man is my biggest cheerleader and supporter. I can’t count how many times he has held me as I cried over my own mess of a being, sitting there stroking my head, making the world less painful for a moment. Sure there have been ups and downs, but not because of our own incompatibility. Honestly, we don’t fight. We don’t argue. I don’t have to read between the lines. I don’t have the face of jealousy staring back at me demanding I recap my entire day. He’s the kind of person that makes you strive to be a better person. Someone that humbles me every day, And every day I find that the love I have for him still continues to reach new depths.

I am the most fortunate of people. Because even in my chaos, I have something to be thankful for. Someone who laughs with me, finishes my thoughts, speaks to me in a language almost unrecognizable to others; years of layers of meta memes and inside jokes. I am still not a happy person. I still struggle, and so does he. We are humans, damaged by the weight of life and responsibility. We are definitely not perfect, and our compatibility means we are just as recklessly irresponsible and compulsive in what we do and buy. We have had so many yolo moments it would make a financial planner cringe. Even though things aren’t perfect. I can’t imagine life with someone else. Really, one lifetime with him will not be enough. I hope there is an afterlife because I want to walk through that horizon hand in hand for eternity.