In My Life, I’ve Loved Them All

The desire starts directly in the center of my chest. The desire to love, to give, to make someone feel special, to be loved…it starts to boil in my chest with a burni…no, ‘burning’ is too cliche and doesn’t capture the true feeling that gathers in my chest like it’s about to explode. The desire spreads out, white hot and all consuming. I can quiet the physical pain if I crowd my life with distractions and pointless white noise. The moment I am truly alone, the pain begins.

People get caught up in that heat of mine, falling for me, becoming consumed…it happens to the same person for years, and the older I become, I notice the years are turning into decades. The same ones are drawn back to me, and the portion of me that is reserved for them specifically continues to give back to their needs. This is probably why they come back. I am willing to listen, to advise, to love, and let them go again, only to have the cycle repeated in a few months or years. It isn’t sexual for the majority; it is their desire for love and my willingness to give it.

It wasn’t until last year that I realized that other women don’t seem to experience this with exes, or if they do, it’s on a much smaller scale. I am not a child; I am a young woman, and I have been dating for 12 years. This epiphany isolated me, and I am continuing to have some introspection on why this occurs to me. Is it something I am allowing? If the masses aren’t experiencing this, is it morally wrong? Am I crazy? Am I a narcissist with low self esteem who is fine with people constantly using me and leaving me?

My best friend listens to my stories and says, “They always come back to you. Always.” And they do. My best friend, let’s call her Bambi, pays attention to each man and what I tell her about them. Sometimes she remembers more than I do! And she will always warn me of their bad qualities, which I am aware of, and continues to support me when the men are rude or hurt me when their bad qualities show through. I can’t imagine how much she loves me to listen to these stories and continue to keep me around.

I am not an innocent and virginal victim here. I have conducted my own share of villainous activity, activities that have ruined people’s careers, their families, their marriages…it became a game for me. Get them to fall and ruin them. A true femme fatale. As I grow older, my conscious has grown and I can’t do it with relish. I was ruined myself and the luster is gone. I have to learn about myself to understand why I have allowed this way of life for me, have I viewed it as a game? Have I found a way to be completely detached from everyone enough to show what I think is love without actually experiencing or receiving love? Or have I risen above society’s understanding of relationships and love, similar to Michael Valentine in Stranger in a Strange Land? Or am I truly alone?

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