This is my blog & my hope, writing daily will help me see my progress and log supporters. |
It's been a long time since I was intimate with a woman...November of 2016 to be exact. I could easily 'fix' the problem if I thought it would be everything I hoped for, but I was never the type to do one-night stands. In my early twenties, I paid a prostitute to see what it was like, and after that, I knew I would never do it again. I'm craving intimacy, but not necessarily sex. And dreaming of someone who craves me. A companion for life and not just for a night. I must admit, I'm beginning to lose faith. Not just in finding love, but in God. I've spent the last few months praying for help. To overcome these hallucinations...to meet someone and say the right things at the right moments and be everything she had hoped for. I wonder if I've been forsaken...or if there is a God at all and my prayers were wasted. I realise feeling sorry for myself isn't going to help my situation, and that there is much I should be grateful for. But, loneliness is like a snowball...the longer it goes on, the more it grows, until it becomes all-encompassing. Denying it is futile. Desperation is obvious and gives off a vibe, no matter how well it is hidden. It shines like a beacon, warning all who approach to stay clear. As always, expectations bring disappointment. I remember after separating from my wife, I couldn't wait to be treated for HepC. In my mind, no one would want to be with me. I carried a contagious virus, and no matter how low the risk of transmission was, I couldn't bring myself to do that to someone. The first attempt at treatment failed, but I was told new and better drugs would be available in the coming months. A year later, I was treated with an antiviral drug called Harvoni, and three months later, my viral load was so low that it was undetectable. I had to wait a year before getting the final all-clear, but after that, I thought everything in life would change. I no longer had a virus that might one day kill me, and please don't get me wrong, I was happy and thankful I had received treatment. But, it wasn't like I walked around wearing a badge advising people of my status, so the changes I had hoped for never came. I still carry HepC antibodies, but cannot infect others. If I get a blood test, I get them to look for viral load, otherwise, because of the antibodies, I show up as positive. Before receiving treatment, it was shame that held me back. Then, once I was cured, I realised it wasn't just shame, but fear that caused me to withdraw from the dating pool. Then I became a full-time carer for my parents, and the final nail in my coffin was addiction. Over time, meth became my lover, and as long as I kept using, I didn't miss having romantic love at all. I'm pretty sure when it comes to dating, I'll be like a fish out of water. They say you never forget how to ride a bike, and if the stars and planets align and a woman falls from heaven right into my lap, I will be OK. But, the reality and chances of that happening are low. My head has taken over from my heart and created a separate narrative on the what-ifs of falling in love. My divorce was bitter and I lost everything that mattered to me. And even though that was a long time ago, I'm still fearful of going down that path again. So, the real question is, am I ready to risk it all again? My heart says yes, but my mind says, hell no...that I am better off continuing to go it alone. Things aren't bad, but I cannot help but think they could be better. If only I could do casual sex and feel satisfied. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on who you ask), that's not an option for me. I'm completely off the Thai girlfriend thing. I do have priorities...things I need to take care of before I die, and they will keep me busy while I wait for Ms Right to fall from the sky and into my loving arms. |