a response to myself

I really have to laugh, you know? Seeing how serious I was in that one blog, the “my heart forever sealed and broken” one… I have to laugh, because I can’t figure out what could have prompted such dire theatrics, for the life of me, I can’t. I always had a weakness for the dramatic, and I guess it’s translated right down into my emotional well being… I look at those words and don’t feel a damned trace of what I was talking about. It’s odd, is it not? How the minute one says something, it begins to cease to be. I now feel that I would get the same thrill from love as I would from a nice buttered scone... not that I’ve ever eaten a scone, but you, hopefully, get the point… I’ll wait, I think, until there comes someone my way who doesn’t need me, a person who chooses to give me equal what I would give to them, and doesn’t feel that they need to have me there every second, a person who drifts in and out as I do. In short? A lone wolf, to match my empty hearted self…
I could see myself in a nice little cottage off in the hills of France, flowers growing wild, vines creeping over the windows, ivy curling around the stairwells, sunlight seeping through the trees to melt against the tile roof… a home where I cook, and occasionally, I am the only person there to eat. Where an empty bed is not a cause for tears, but a cause for contentment in the knowledge that the other side of the mattress will soon be taken up by the other occupant of the house, when they get back from their nameless journey. I guess I dream of someone whole, like myself, a person who needs no other person, someone who chooses to have a partner, not someone who sought one out because they felt that a partner was necessary. I don’t kid myself; I know that there is a tiny sliver of a chance that in all the millions of half-souled people out there that one of them will be whole. But I don’t care, I can wait… I have always been good at that one thing; waiting, though some might choose to call it cowardice. There is nothing wrong with needing love, there is nothing wrong with wanting someone to be there for always and forever, someone to hum the harmony to the song that your heart sings.
I wish for the sake of a few that I care about deeply, that I could be the sort to make them happy. But it would be betrayal, and I would hurt them more terribly then they are wounded already... in the end, their disappointment and possible resentment is easier for all concerned then their pain and tears would be.