Today, I got a call from a friend who is having a terrible time. Her fiance just broke off their engagement. He just changed his mind. They were the happiest couple I knew. My heart breaks for her, but I am also having my own little, private, selfish response. I would never let on, of course, but my hope for relationships in general is a little shaken.

My crazy tendencies have always damaged my relationships. My friend is also fairly troubled. For her, it's crippling depression, and zero self esteem. But she seemed to have found her match. He loved her, and was so supportive. It made me think that some people are so well matched that they can overcome such things. I wanted to believe that love could trump crazy. But alas, it doesn't usually work out that way. 

I have a way of wrecking things. 

My marriage was never exactly healthy, but we were once in love.  We were deeply in love.  I am the one who trashed that.  It seems unlikely, at this point, that we will ever feel the same way about each other.  For him, my actions tanked those feelings.  For me, it was a matter of necessity – you put up walls and learn not to romantically pine away when you know someone isn't exactly desirous of your intimae company.  In spite of this, we do still love each other, and take care of each other.  That does count for a lot.  But is it enough?  On a long enough timeline, it clearly isn't going to be sufficient. 

Another selfish thought:  At present, I'm not even capable of supporting myself, and I don't know if I could psychlogically or physically handle the stress of being on my own.  My disability check wouldn't even come close to meeting my needs (meaning the basics – a roof over my head, food, and meds).  I know, it sounds terrible, but these are thoughts that come up in my mind.  I am 30 years old.  At twenty, I could throw caution to the wind and do whatever.  I followed my whimsical impulses.  It didn't seem to matter as much, because there was so much time to get it right, and figure it all out.  Now, I desperately want to be situated where ever the hell I am supposed to be, and trying to figure it all out makes me physically ill.

If either of us will beat the odds, it'll be her. She is much more likeable than me. Anyway, I will soon be off to an art show where some of her paintings will be up. It's one of those days where you definitely show up.