It's very rare (I think) to meet someone whom you feel really understands and gets you and who is kind and patient enough to listen and truly respond to what you say. I think that is why I (as pathetic as this must sound) still think about the person who ghosted me.

For three and a half years we talked about all kinds of things and related to each other in matters (at least I thought so at the time) we had never discussed with anyone else before.

Though time has gone on, I remain sad about this loss and I feel embarrassed and disappointed with myself about this, but it's the truth. I have a few friends that I feel comfortable with, but no one with whom I talk with like I did this person.

Like me, this person also struggled with feelings for someone in a way that was heartbreaking and though that was our biggest connection and inadvertently how we met, we had many more things in common. We could discuss spirituality, for instance, without complications or judgment and she was okay with me being gay.

Not too long ago, I was chatting with someone in a forum specifically for dealing with ghosting issues and he told me that since closure was pretty much impossible I had to think in terms of having been fortunate enough to have had the time I did with her. In that respect I agree, but I still cannot shake the worry of what happened to her and what I did wrong and whether I will ever find that kind of friendship again.

Lately, I feel like the "Q" in LGBTQ just as much as I do the "L," the Q part being I question why I don't want to read lesfic anymore, why some of it even turns me off, more than I care to admit. I know I'm a lesbian, even though I don't want to be, but I'm not sure I'm the kind of lesbian you think of when you think of lesbians.

I ask myself: would I still be wary of and avoid physical contact if I were pretty and not so rigid in how I feel about intimacy strictly being for marriage? I firmly believe (no matter what) in love coming before sex and in loving being fulfilled in that way only in the most committed and deep of relationships, which (to me) comes through marriage.

Still, there is a large amount of discomfort and extreme guilt within me when I read detailed "love scenes" in lesfic. The casual sex ones especially bother me, though even the loving "we waited to get to know each other" ones can alarm me.

This is not politically correct to say, but I have never been okay with my being gay. I still believe I'm going to Hell someday, even though I have never "acted" on my feelings. 

To hold one to committed celibacy is something I can understand conservative Christians expecting, but I also see a problem with that because I think being gay is about much more than sex and "acting on" any kind of physical desire.

I used to believe in the power of journaling and that it could be as close to therapy without actually going to therapy. I would write myself out of my pain, I told myself, and things would change. But no amount of self-analysis, no amount of the most sincere and authentic words, onscreen or on paper, can change how you feel when it's as if the feelings are deeply, deeply imbedded inside you. 

I want to stop feeling this way about the person I feel so much for...I know I am being completely ridiculous, that there are other kinds of intense pain much more worthy, if that makes sense. There are people out in the world, people I know personally, who are deeply suffering for very concrete, very real reasons and yet I am in pain over someone who would most likely be horrified if she knew, someone I can't even call a friend.

It's amazing, though (I think) how much better you can get at hiding how you feel, at hiding the things that bother and hurt you beyond repair, how you can go on long after you don't want to go on. Not just with unrequited emotions, but with other ones as well. People may think you're fine, they even comment on how happy you look, but inside you're completely different. 

This is, for the most part, pretty good. As long as you're not bottling things up, I think it's important to put your game face on and try and get through the day as best you can. It's better to come across as a Tigger than it is an Eeyore. 

I don't say this lightly nor condescendingly, as someone once said this to me when I was really down and not even bothering to hide it...and for me this was the equivalent of being told to "calm down," which I find to be one of the most absolute, absolute worst things to tell someone, right up there with "chin up" or "it'll get better, smile."

The thing is, though, it really is better to be a Tigger than an Eeyore...it's just a matter of finding the strength and the power to get there and that is very, very, very hard.

I feel like I was rather harsh (and also a hypocrite) in my last post...and I just want to say today that I don't think it is ever good to put yourself before someone else, especially if that someone is suffering. The thing is I have been in a place I do not want to be for quite a while now and I want to change that and I think that maybe becoming stoic, cold-hearted and/or falling into self-preservation mode is how I am handing it.

Part of my coping has changed since I lost a friend I really cared about, or rather a three year friendship I really cared about since I'm hoping there is nothing "past" about her...with "ghosting" you never really know what happened, but I am hoping that nothing happened to her. I'm also continuing to have feelings for someone I work with and that has not gotten any better. I would give anything to be Spock and to have either no emotions at all or much, much better control over the ones I do have.

Through no tacit intentions that I am aware of, neither of us talk to each other anymore and my heart silently breaks over this, even if we were never friends in the first place and I've had more than enough time to get used to it. I worry she knows though I have never ever told her and have always (at least I had hoped so) been very vigilant about this. Despite how Hollywood would have you think it, not everyone is receptive to hearing you have feelings for them, especially unrequited ones. 

I know the person I like would not be one of them and this is, of course, the way it should be. Having feelings for a married, straight coworker is one of the worst set of feelings a lesbian could ever, ever have and they should never, never be vocalized or be put forth in any other kind of way.

Most people, I am sure, would say "snap out of it" and I would agree with them, except that I have tried this and more and done everything I can think of to move on emotionally. Last year I confided in a friend outside of work about it and she looked at me like I was out of mind, which, I suppose, I kind of am.

I would say my new year's resolution is to get over it all, but this has been my new year's resolution for the past seven years. Really, really pathetic, I know, that I continue to go on like this, in spirit and emotion. The thing is, though, is that the heart is very hard to reckon with and it has a mind of its own, or so it seems. 

Until things change for the better (and I am determined that they will, no matter how long it takes), I am going to take the advice from the above photo and do my very best to follow it while still not being a cold fish.

Emotional vampires don't see themselves in mirrors...

Because I had preconceived notions about _Sam_, I have to say I am pleasantly surprised that I am still thinking about it and also by how much it is both kind of "trashy" and still an important read. Lonnie Coleman's writing reminds me a lot of Jacqueline Susann's and I like that. What is far more striking for me, though, is how there are several different passages that speak to me, as if directly, reminding me that no matter how different the main character may be from you, there are still universal things that hit you with both reassurance (i.e. "you are not alone") and uncomfortable truth.

A lot of drama revolves around Sam's life and the people in it, some of which is very upsetting and even jarring. I tend to shy away from high theatrics, but Lonnie Coleman has a witty way with words, "gets" cats (Andrew is one of the most delightful non-human characters to ever appear in a novel) and can wow you with unexpectedly tender scenes.

One passage, in particular, really affects and if you find yourself ever dealing with histrionics or any kind of behavior from another person that continually weighs you down no matter how much you help that person, keep in mind this: "One thing you have to learn right off in this life: you're not responsible for anybody but yourself. That doesn't mean you shouldn't be kind--and nice, but it does mean you aren't to blame if somebody uses you as the excuse {substitute any self-destructive behavior here}"

This may sound harsh, but I find it very soothing because one thing "emotional vampires"* (some of which appear in this book) can do is make other people feel bad for the things they themselves do. Life is hard enough without continually having to deal with those who use manipulation to keep you tethered to them in the most unhealthy of ways. I took this (and more away from _Sam_) and am glad that I had the chance to read such a rocky and well-written tale, where anything can happen and does.

*"Emotional vampires" is a term I first heard of a few years ago when I was doing some research on dealing with difficult people. I could not believe how familiar some of the "types" were to me and when I finished reading _Sam_ and thought back on some things the quote I make reference to really, really hit me hard, yet also helped me. I firmly believe we should be there for people, but I also feel that there are "toxic" people (even amongst our families) we deserve to be free from when they create nothing but hardship and heartache. I don't think it's selfish, but more a matter of self-care. What follows below is an excellent article--along with some very heartfelt and perceptive comments--on the subject, focusing on the five main types of emotional vampires:

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/emotional-freedom/201101/the-5-types-emotional-vampires-in-your-life