Thursday, May 08, 2008


One of the things that happens when you withold yourself from others, don't tell them the truth and what is on your mind, is that the witholding creates distance. Intimacy is the oppositie of that distance.

And over the years, I've witheld more and more from H. Early on in his illness, when he was 120 lbs and close to death, I took lovers. I never told him and I don't intend to now; why hurt him? In the distant past, we'd share our "indiscretions," much to the entertainment of us both.

What else do I withold? The complexities and worries about my future, my worries about him and how I'll handle it when he's gone, my fears of growing old alone, how "done" I am with not only being his lover, but his caregiver also, conversation topics, most of my needs (and I know that he can't meet them anyway), how upset I am with him for being stupid and getting this disease, my plans and dreams for the hopes for something different for us both....

So, when I talk about loneliness I have contributed to it myself with my partner by witholding.

On one hand, I can point to the fact that he can't "catch." Then again, I'm not throwing the ball anymore.

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