it’s times like these.

When I was younger, I had this little ritual of sorts that I absolutely loved. I would wait until everyone was asleep and then I would creep outside, still in my pajamas, to walk around and think and imagine. I do it even today, just not as often.

There is something really special to me about that time of the night. It’s almost a paradox because there’s such a quiet and soothing stillness, yet you can feel the pulsing energy just underneath. I’m talking about 1 or 2 am here. After midnight, but before it starts getting light. It’s a different quiet than the one you get in the early early mornings, at around 5am, when the sun is just beginning to make her presence known. That’s a nice time too, but it’s a very tired moment for me. Everything is waking up, pulses are slow and low, it feels harsher to me. The mysteries that existed in the night have faded, with the light giving way to reality. It’s more like an end to me than a beginning.

But at night, I feel possibilities. The shadows allow for anything. So it became habit for me, these nightly excursions. I’d walk around in my barefeet, reveling in the darkness and getting seduced by the stars. And I would imagine. Great things, small things, in my personal life and on a more global scale. It was fantastic and made me feel alive. I wouldn’t go far, but in my mind I did.

It was often sad though, because I’ve always felt pretty lonely. As the case with many of us I’m sure, there just weren’t a lot of people that I felt I could trust. I didn’t feel connected to anyone really. It was hard, but it was okay. Besides, I liked having secrets parts of me that no one else saw.

But one of my favorite things to imagine, as I was out walking around in the dark, was that I would meet that one person who would truly understand me. I would picture us both out there, being our secret (but truest) selves and then suddenly we would notice each other. The circumstances varied. I never got into too much detail about how the person looked; it often took on the characteristics of whoever I had a crush on at the time, but in my imagination it was more just the idea of something than any sort of physical manifestation.

But I would go through the actual movements of the meeting, act it out, as if it were really happening. I’d wander around and then sit down to rest. Eventually, I’d turn my head and he’d be standing there, looking at me. We’d stare at each other and then he’d come over and sit next to me and that’s how we would stay, until I either went back home or moved on to some other thought or idea.

I was truly convinced that this is how I would meet the man I was meant for, at night, on one of my little imagination walks. I think maybe I am still sort of convinced. That I’ll be sitting out there on my front steps, lost in my little world. He’ll be leaning against the fence, living in the shadows. We’ll smile when we see each other. He’ll probably wink at me and I’ll sigh and do a small one-shoulder shrug and everything we need to know about each other is right there in that moment. And when he sits next to me, no one will have to say a word. Our legs will be touching and our skin will tingle and we’ll both just sit there and stare off into the dark together.

It seems so silly now, sitting at this computer, typing it up, but when I’m out there, I feel it happening, and it isn’t silly, it’s What’s Supposed to Happen.

A lot of people have their thoughts about Gordon. He’s made mistakes and he’s got issues and problems like everyone else. He drives me absolutely crazy a lot of time. But the one thing he has that no one else does, that no one else ever had, is deep, unwavering love for me. Some might say his actions sometimes don’t show that love, but make no mistake–Gordon loves me like no one ever has and no one ever will. For him, I’m that person in the shadows. He’s sitting there on the steps waiting and I’m the one he sees, I’m the one who sits next to him and makes his heart beat stronger and his blood race. I don’t mean that to sound arrogant or self-righteous or pompous, but it’s truth. He would follow me to the ends of the earth. A million things happen during the day, but at the end of the night I’m the one he wants to curl up with in bed. He sees plenty of women who are better-looking than me, but it’s MY body and MY vagina that he loves and worships. He is sweet to me even when I’m an incredibly selfish, cold, distant bitch. He tries so hard to make me happy and he wants nothing more than my approval and love. He doesn’t like the way I treat myself and he does what he can to make me feel better.

How he feels for me is what I’ve been looking for my whole life. So why is it not enough for me? Why am I not happy? Why can’t I feel the same way towards him? There are so many things I love and appreciate about Gordon, but I don’t feel satisfied or content or happy. And it really angers me, because I’m very lucky to have Gordon and I wish for it to be good. I desperately want to stop feeling lonely. But I cannot deny my restlessness. What is wrong with me when I want to make Gordon feel like I don’t love him MORE than I want to make him think that I do love him? That’s really twisted. I shouldn’t feel such reluctance to give him affection. I should want to have sex with him and please him and let him please me. I should be grateful and excited that he is so attracted to me, not put-off or annoyed or disgusted. I should be able to put aside all my baggage and just let him love me, but I can’t. I can’t do it and I don’t know why or how to fix it. I don’t know that I even want to fix it. I just know that I am a mean, selfish bitter girl and I will go my whole life searching for what is right in front of me, because I’m stupid and petty and I don’t know any better. I’m just a robot, programmed to do the same thing over and over without thought or consequence. I still haven’t found what I’m looking for, but I don’t think I’m meant to, I was never meant to, it just isn’t in my cards.

I feel pretty sure that if Ryland hadn’t come along, I would not still be with Gordon. Our relationship would have ended. I think Gordon knows this as well. So was my son nature’s way of telling me that what I need is right here, with Gordon? Or was my pregnancy just the simple fact of sperm and egg finding each other, nothing more, nothing less?

It just doesn’t feel right that I’m awake at 3am, alone and typing away at my computer, and there’s a warm, loving body in my bed that I could and should be sleeping next to, a body with whom I share a son.

argh! Why isn’t Gordon good enough for me? I honestly don’t know if there is something fundamentally wrong with me and I have what I deserve and am just too stupid and arrogant to see it; or if I’m truly unfulfilled because I’m settling. Maybe the fact that I don’t know is my answer. Or maybe the fact that I don’t know but am still with Gordon is my answer.

Or maybe I just need to go to fucking bed already.

• ← the silent, endless scream of horror.
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