Oct. 17, 2007
It’s funny how often Karen ends up in bed with me in my dreams. I always see her coming by, and staying the night, or at least a few hours. Last night I imagined her spending time with me, spending some nights, and we were enjoying each other’s company, and everything was fine. Her parents didn’t have to meet me, and we got to be together, and it would all work out just fine. Maybe she’d move in, maybe not. Maybe she’d get her own place and we could hang out there. Maybe we’d take that imaginary trip to Vegas and get married, and still not tell her parents or anyone she didn’t want to know. I am crazy sick, you know? You all realize that by now? There’s no way this fantasy can occur – that’s why it’s a fantasy after all. Crazy for me to keep thinking about it. I seem to have become a character in a bad romantic novel or a dumb TV crime show. What’s next for me? Will I just lose all control one day? I’ve already lost most interest in my job , my union duties , or going out. I prefer to think about Karen, to imagine her in my life, just like the articles on limerence say. I see my life with her as my greatest happiness. No one is perfect, I realize, and neither are relationships. I don’t care. I want Karen. Nothing could make me happier, and yet I know it’s not going to happen, so I have to get my life together. But, what for? What DO I need to get my life together for? Another marriage like the last one? Hardly. I don’t need to get married again; I don’t need to have any kind of serious relationship at all. Except. Except there’s Karen. And Karen, she excites me. I think of life with Karen: getting to know each other more, setting up house together, sex, and romance and children and love. I think about all this and I want that to happen. I want that life. Everything else seems bland, boring and empty. I think about getting involved with someone else, and I probably can, but I don’t want it. I’ve read about people who carry a torch like this for much of their lives. Am I destined to be one of them? Or am I destined to simply go off the deep end? Do people do that anymore? Or does medication keep everyone in check? If I lose all interest in the world around me, what happens to me? Do I just go around on the street looking for the least uncomfortable place to sleep, eating whatever I find or beg for? Or will I even be able to function at that independent a level at all? Are people institutionalized anymore? Is that what I’m seeking: to be taken care of? To withdraw from humanity? Why focus on seeking something that is impossible? that I can’t ever have? will never experience? What does that mean for me that I set up an unattainable goal? How does this end?