It was recently pointed out to me that I am emotionally detached. Ironically, this observation came from a person to whom I truly have no attachment: my grief counselor. She spoke of how often I can speak of things that I love or hate with no apparent feeling at all. Things that I say make me happy or sad, angry or frustrated are able to be voiced in monotone, without crying spells or washes of tears.
Well, of course they can. I don't actually HAVE feelings. Everybody knows that.
There is the old saying that it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Bullshit. I've loved and lost a lot. It blows. I've had so much heartbreak over the years that I could supply the entire country music industry with enough material to last them a lifetimes. Births, deaths, marriages, divorces, losing your old hound dog and getting your heart stomped by the unworthy--check. I've had people come into my life who, in my opinion, only swooped in long enough to obliterate my emotions. I've had people who have spent years toying with them, just to see how far they could go, pushing ahead then pulling back (Bellamy is one of these people--I think she's waiting until her teenage years for the ultimate upheaval, but I still have a few more years to worry about that). Hell, there's one person in my life whom I'm nearly certain only exists to make my heart ache, yet I'm still unable to boot them out for good to save my own sanity. A glutton for punishment, this old heart of mine.
Or, at least it WOULD be if I had those feelings I mentioned earlier.
You see, it's easier to just love nothing. More often than not, I only say "I love you" to the people whom I actually DON'T love. (Yep, I'm tricky.) The ones I do, I just don't tell, because that way you're less likely to be taken advantage of and hurt. Obviously, my kids and B don't count, but lots of others do. Love is a mirage. I love cake frosting and snow and my purple handbag. Love is summer days and mail that isn't junk or bills. Feelings are something far more complicated, and something I choose not to embrace.
So, yes. I am detached. Maybe for now, maybe forever. Because it sure makes my life a hell of a lot easier. Better to have loved and not felt it, then to have loved and had your heart broken yet again.