December 31, 2009

Love, romance, and the eternal doubt of life with MS

It's all very twee, isn't it? The whole vision of love and romance and walking through a landscape filled with hearts and flowers, babbling brooks, sunlight, and sweetly chirping birdies to add music....

Well, I've always had a hard time believing all that - typical first love broke my heart thing. And, as an overweight, very short gal, I've spent quite a bit of my life feeling unloveable. Having MS for years and not knowing it made me feel even more unworthy - tired all the time, cranky when I was too tired to think, numbing and filled with pain in alternates.

Add to that the full MS cover. Now it becomes almost impossible to think that anyone would ever want to be around me for more than a short time, for more than a quick roll in the hay, for more than the good times. Who in this big world would be willing to take on a moody with MS, falling apart lass, who has difficulty with everyday tasks and regularly forgets things on the stove? Who will probably get worse and worse and worse?

I mean, I can be brazen and tough it out, tell myself I am good on my own, be more fiercely independent than ever. I can wear my push up bras and mock men for their attention to silly things such as breasts, I can educate myself and fool myself that I am perhaps alone because I am too smart, I can push away everyone who tries to get through the armour.

I do all of this, deny my need for support, contact, affection, touch, love.

Because I know there are storm clouds beyond the sunny meadow, and I don't want to inflict those on anyone. Not even a dog.

It makes me unwilling to trust in love, to let myself fall into it, to accept it when given. Like the rest of my life, which has become undependable, I figure it's a wobbly thing, given to short-circuiting like my fraying nerves. And who knows? Perhaps I have a lesion on my "accepting love" gyrus or something.

It would take a very patient, persistent, and kind man to lead me down the meadow past the hearts. I'm balky.

I may, may have found just such a man. Fearfully, I take a step into the warmth...

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