The spring has been slow in opening her doors, but she's arrived, and with her warmer tones has brought the usual array of budding feelings of newness, clealiness, and the thought that anything is possible. At the same time, though, it's also a time when I find that I have to let something go that I was hoping I wouldn't have to. I don't like the sadness of it, but that is part of the human condition as much as the joys and elations are.

I have realised, that while I am comfortable with the current male person in my life, that I am at peace around him, that I can speak openly, that there is still something missing - some essential kind of rapport, some essential form of communication that is like air and water to me.

I don't expect a person to be everything, or perfect; that's an unreal expectation that's best left at the door of fairytales and novels of romance. However, if a person is a raft of goodness, yet that essentialness is missing still, that is also not a good thing.

I could love him, but not passionately, not enough to where I (judging by how I feel right at this minute) wouldn't spend the rest of my life feeling like something's missing. I can talk to him about personal things, but there is an essential form of inspiration that is missing from those conversations. He's got a creative spirit, but he never asks about my creation. He doesn't inspire me, though he comforts me. He cares for me, but I don't really anticipate his presence. I like to hug him and be affectionate, but I don't really care about anything beyond that (that's not so much him, I think, as it is just my somewhat disinterested libido). When we get on the phone it's not terribly chatty, yet when we're together it's all right - but just all right. I see him once a week, and feel that's enough. I have casual friends that I've got a better passionate (not sexual) rapport with than I do with him, yet his company is pleasant to me. So many things are right, but something important is wrong - something important that I need in order to give my life over to another person.

I do not know what message the universe is sending me.

I feel disheartened. I wait, seemingly interminably, for something, and get so much, but still feel like something's still dangling just out of my reach. I couldn't have what I wanted, and don't want what I can have. And I cannot settle for this. I can't. I feel deflated. I feel like crying.

. . .

Perhaps I am just as incapable as I've assumed for the past few years, at making emotional connections with people. Perhaps I've forgotten how. Perhaps I'm too lazy to put in the work. I don't expect anyone else to fix this for me, like some people have assumed; but I do know that there is a certain point in one's life where you cannot go it alone anymore. We are social creatures, and require each other in order to fully realise our humanity. You can only do so much on your own, and only so far you can go. I can be content with the small graces given me by the presence of good friends, but I feel cut off from that little something extra. You can get at least some of that from friends, but they must be very special friends. I've been lucky to know a couple of such people. Lucky to still know them. I have that much, at least. It's still sad, though, still empty-feeling when that goes away and you feel you cannot touch it again.