Being a child

I feel such a spoiled child. I sometimes feel like dropping myself down and having a tantrum: it’s not fair, I can’t take it anymore, it’s too hard. I switch sides between accusing me of being a rotten apple and giving myself a spanking, metaphysical but a hard one, and finding excuses and allowing me some leeway.
After all, just yesterday, a good friend had his contract terminated and I realized that at 3 o’clock that his cubicle is empty and will stay empty, that I lost a good and intelligent person I could share things, ideas, opinions and who will not be afraid to tell me when I’m wrong… Later in the evening, confronted with the second day of Gabriel’s impossibility to do his homework due to some mental fears I will never understand (it was as simply as copying some stuff off the Internet and I was even pointing him what to pick from larger articles), I cracked and smacked him several times. And to end the day on high note, just like the scream of somebody falling 60 floors, I was dumped by a woman I should have dumped a long time ago for reasons of being too dynamic, after I allowed her to toy with me for almost 2 months.
And suddenly I felt abandoned, confused, lost, and desperate. I simply didn’t know where to go or what to do. I remembered that for the last 2 years I have been wondering the desert of online dating… with no end near.
I remembered that I wanted to purchase a reproduction from a Klimt painting Mother and child for the kitchen… and I realized it would be dumb. I mean I love it but it would always remind me of that much-desired-seldom-acquired unconditional love I probably received as an infant but I don’t remember anymore, and that I haven’t had in almost 16 years… since I split the last time from my girlfriend then, who later became my wife but only after I had chased all the tenderness and comfort she was able to give me.
I am oscillating between whipping myself: why are you ready to shed tears, Andi?! It’s just life, you take your lemons and make a lemonade. Real don’t men pity themselves and besides there is nothing to pity: you have your health, probably even smacking him Gabriel still loves you, you have plenty of money to go around, pay your bills, build a future… You should be ashamed of yourself!
But –the other voice gets to me my ears – it’s years and years and years of solitude, solitude in 2 that can help one fool oneself that he/she is not alone… and only 2 years since the feeling from inside materialized in the monster of loneliness… Indeed, you have been loved and maybe even adored but by people who didn’t even try to matter, people whom were never capable of earning your respect, no matter how low you set the bar. So it’s your fault, it’s only you and your stupid standards: no snobs, no ignorant, no flip-flops with a good dress, no fat and complacent women, no depressed and mind-numbing women, no powerless ones who will rely on you to carry them on your back, provide them with every comfort and who, when you need it most – like now – will tell you that they cannot help you…
And yet, like a selfish child, I am filled with rage and sadness; like a dog touched by rabies I am ready to bite everyone that even come close, letting them know that I don’t need their pity or emotional crumbs that they are throwing at me… in my inner core though asking for a loving embrace, for stars in their eyes…
I have accomplished, and keep on accomplishing and doing, and proving stupidly believing – despite knowing it’s not true (see “Buying Love”) – that somehow, somebody I can love and respect will hold me in their arms and relieve me of my burden, will lay in bed next to me and caress me into sleep with the love in their eyes and whisper to me “Everything will be ok. I love you and that is a promise!”.
But… it’s ok. I know what I have to do – I need to manage my loneliness… can’t leave it unattended because it can kill you. Will sleep and forget, forget and sleep and go back to one-day-at-a-time emotional hibernation, will pull through… and live to fight another day.