wound

For the past few years, there has been a deepening wound in my spirit. A loneliness and rawness in my core.
The reasons and layers are many and varied. I will attempt to do justice to them all, but in writing about a topic this deep, there will surely be holes and omissions.
I have long been one of the most contented and happy souls i know. We live in a society which by its very nature is contrary to inner peace. For all our evolvement, we still live in barbaric times. Future generations will understand this in ways that most of us can grasp only partially, or not at all. We are immersed in violence and superstition from first breath to last.
In spite of this, i have come much closer to inner peace in my life than most ever will. I would like to take some credit for this, that my intelligence has pushed me to foster the rare ability to live in the moment...has made me pursue the simplicity of laughter and touch...yet of course, a very large part of my inner peace i cannot take credit for. Genetically speaking, i think i've just been dealt a very rare hand.
But for the past few years...
There have been obvious surface reasons. I find myself lacking the close circle of friends i always imagined i'd have. For most of my life, my closest friends have lived far away. To have the love of friends at all is a deep blessing, but the day-in, day-out companionship of beloved friends has mostly eluded me. In the past decade i have lost two of the closest friends of my life, one of whom i turned away from, and one of whom turned away from me. Over the past half-decade i have had to let go of the only two women i've ever been in love with. Even though i have my doubts about the naturalness of monogamy, and i reject the idea of being "completed" through love, there is a part of me that is deeply, profoundly romantic. A part of me is writing a love story that will be written indelibly into the fabric of infinity. It may be wildly unconventional. Or not. It may not even be between two. I don't know.
I know that in some ways i've been one of the most well-hugged humans you'll ever meet, due to the times i've worked with children and the mentally retarded. But i come to this point in my life realizing that for the overwhelming majority of my two decades of adult life, i have lain my bones down at night alone and unheld. I didn't mind this for a long time, as i have great reservoirs of patience. For one year, i knew what genuinely intimate and healing human love could be. Having had it, i became determined to never settle for less. But fifteen years of loneliness later, i find myself so wounded from lack of touch and love that "settling for less" almost seems the only option. What we do affects what we become, and it is unacceptable to me that i become "the person who wasn't held".
Part of my reality is that i've become so singular that the average human almost seems a different species. Compatibility becomes a holy grail. People who say i shouldn't seek someone like myself miss the point. I don't wish for a carbon copy, but if i found a woman who shared my core values, rhythms, and humor, i might literally shake from stupefaction. Do i want a female version of me? Childless mother of GOD, yes.
There are plenty of parts of my spirit that reject traditional concepts of family, marriage, and fulfillment...and there is a part of me that is comfortable with the idea that i will never have children, that my creativity is so essential that it must be my focus in life. And on another level, i've become so good at being "me" that i don't know whether i'll ever want to give up as much of myself as having children would require. But the thought of having children is somehow a part of all this. I've long known that having children is the only life path i'm genuinely conflicted about, being able to see two paths very clearly. I would be a good parent, perhaps one of the best. And there is something deep and elemental, the desire to project oneself into life's future through children. But it also seems such an alien thought to me, as i've lived two adult decades without ever ONCE meeting a woman who made me say "this could be the one". If that statement isn't as 100% true as it once was, it's still essentially true (one of the two women i alluded to before sometimes almost scared me, when she would reveal yet another pocket of personality compatibility between us that blew my gourd). I think if i met the right person or people, all these concerns would easily disappear, one way or the other. Meeting certain people...makes certain things, our own desires and needs, suddenly simple and clear. I'm just sad at the thought that, decades from now, i might experience some deep childless sadness. Yet i also know that right now i'm so raw that i'm drawn to do something like impregnating someone, only to have it come crashing down on my head a year or two from now, how simply and utterly wrong that person is for me. I sometimes also think a certain solitariness is a part of who i need to be, in terms of what i can bring to the world. The Piper, the Puck, the Pan, the perfect uncle, and hero to those who dream of freedom. Can i take my own advice, if i say that some people shouldn't be parents? Would i thrive in domesticity? For two decades i've been responsible for only myself, mostly. What, you say i can't take the next seven hours to write? But i'm inspired! The child has a dance lesson i agreed to monitor, and we need groceries and...i don't know, like i said, when you meet the right person or people things become simple. So none of this is worth any great concern.
Another layer of this is simply about age and virility. Now, i'm expecting a profoundly long life...i do consider another century a distinct possibility. And i expect chirpy erections for any number of decades to come. I have 'em most every day, and my morning wood is as woody as can be. But i've found over the past few years that my erections are less automatic than they once were. Perhaps it's that with any partner i've had in recent years, there's always been something missing. Perhaps it's because my taoist sexual training has had the effect of slowing down the start of intercourse, not just extending the act itself. Perhaps it's that for so long the overwhelming majority of my sex life has been solitary, so my erections have been trained to react most readily to my own touches. Perhaps it's something to do with the Buffett line "I'll jumpstart you, if you quickstart me". Perhaps the angle of my bike seat has been too high. Perhaps it's some of all of these, or just what men my age go through. But for whatever reason, this element has added a little bit to my almost reckless state of mind.
Sometimes i feel like a faker, almost willing myself to feel these sadnesses, because they are so contrary to my nature (and, uhhh, maybe they'll make me a better writer?).
I find myself willing to dive into relationships, even when i know there are considerable incompatibilities. Or i experience almost self-destructive impulses, pondering relationships that are inherently not me at all. It's like deep down i'm waiting for someone to reach into me and say, "It's okay, stop hurting...you just need to be you, and you will be loved and held, and we will heal and laugh and play naked together...feel my heartbeat, because it's going to wrap into yours, and you WILL die one of the most held human beings who ever lived, just as you know you must." All my life i've been patient and strong...and mostly alone. If i come across a relationship that needs me to be patient and strong these days, a part of me just wants to hide and run away.
And that is how i am on this beautiful day.