Being Unlovable

I couldn’t work outside in the garden yesterday due to the rain. Sometimes Sundays tend to be my “lonely-feeling” days, especially when I’ve spent time with family or friends the day before.

Mid-afternoon I was taking a Spider Solitaire break and I started thinking about love. My last lover, a guy I dated for 22 years, never once EVER said he loved me. He was more apt to call me stupid than give me approval. Yes, I stayed with him all those years. It was a conscious choice and we did have many good times and it was with him that I got the travel bug.

After he left was when my mother started to decline and I chose to give my attention to her. It was Ma and I for the next 15 years and when we moved to Bradford, my life was also taken up by being an artist, writer, and photographer. I didn’t have time for, nor want, a lover in my life.

I can’t remember the last time anyone said, “I love you.” Oh, family does the “Love you” when saying goodbye on the phone or in emails and such, but when was the last time I felt loved, truly loved? When was the last time I felt someone really cared for me? (Yes, I have family and friends, but that’s a different kind of love.)

Does that mean I am unlovable? I stop to think about it because I never took into consideration that I am unlovable. I just kept the belief that I don’t have room for a lover in my life. But if I do think about it and I’m honest, what man would ever want to spend time with me now? I have nothing to offer and what most men want, I am unwilling to give.

So, does that mean I am unlovable? How has the past shaped who I am today? And can I say, physically and mentally shaped? Yes, this is about choices that I have made in the past 20 years.

Hmmm, this is a subject I’ll have to think more about.