The Lone Ranger

I am still getting used to living alone, having been in my new apartment for a few weeks now, and there is a lot about it that I love. I love not having to immediately do the dishes if I don't feel like it, I like always being in control of what I watch on TV, and I really like not having to hide all evidence that I have a menstrual cycle. I like living alone, but I still do not like being alone. My time spent alone still feels like in-between-time, the threads that connect the time when I am with the people I love. I can't be alone yet without it feeling like I am lonely. Loneliness is a pervasive and hard to shake- it sinks into your bones and won't let go. I get a lot of fulfillment from my life, I have great friends who keep me occupied and a number of side projects to keep me busy, but I still cannot stop noticing that empty space that was so recently occupied by another person. My ex's absence has left a vacuum, and instead of filling up, it's just an empty pocket I keep getting sucked into.
Even the presence of Mike is not enough to fill up this unoccupied space, and the degree to which I miss him when he is not there compounds the feeling of emptiness that is always creeping up on me. I can take care of myself, of course, but I like the way I feel when I am around him better than I like the way I feel when I am alone. It's that simple. It's so simple, it makes me wonder how it can be possible that I am so interested in someone so soon after I thought Gino would be the only man I would ever need to love. It makes me wonder if I am being too efficient, too speedy in my recovery by piggy-backing one new infatuation on top of an old, dying one. That is the truth- I was infatuated with Gino. The definition of infatuation is a foolish or all-absorbing passion, and that is what I felt for him. I was so infatuated, so lost in love with my husband that I failed to notice that his eyes did not light up when he saw me. The expression "love is blind' is not always a good thing. It blinds you to some one's complete lack of interest, to their exhaustion with you, to the look on their face that tells you it's over. I don't want that to ever happen to me ever again, which is why I keep trying to keep a lid on my feelings for my man-friend before they spiral out of control and I spin myself into butter over them.
I have been hyper-vigilant with managing myself lately, to the point where I am wondering what would be so terrible about letting go just a little bit. The worst-case scenario in my head, however, is so very scary that I can't let it play out that way. I don't want to scare Mike away by letting my passionate Aries spirit burn him up. I told him the other day that he calms me, that his presence slows down my rapid heart rate and makes it feel as though I can actually just breathe in and out. When I am by myself, my heart races, my breath is short and I lose focus every minute regardless of what I am doing. Being near him is my own way of self-medicating, keeping the feelings of dread from taking over. I hate myself for needing this, for needing anything from him because he does not need to be depended on for anything right now. I always thought of myself as not terribly needy, but the truth is that my needs were different from Gino's. Gino needed practical things from me, like food, and my needs were less easy to pinpoint. I needed comfort, and affection, and to be reminded, by him, that I was worthy of it. Our marriage did not last because he could not bring himself to pretend he could give me those things anymore. I cannot hold anything against him because I understand.
My abandonment issues are starting to become clearer to me day by day. I have abandonment issues that stem from my mother's death, of course, from most of my family members fleeing the area, from friends of mine just neglecting to contact me any more. I am hurt by all of these things, and thinking about them feels like pressing on a deep bruise, but I have nowhere to direct any anger that I feel over them. I have an abiding fear that at any moment, someone I love will simply disappear, and there will be nothing I can do about it. This is why I panic if I don't get a prompt response to a text message. This is why I cannot sit still when I am waiting for an answer. It is an impulse born from a lifetime of losses, both large and small, and it is a behavior I cannot grow out of. Gino jumping ship from our marriage is just another toothpick.