IS YOUR LOVE IN VAIN?

I've been burned before and I know the score
So you won't hear me complain
Will I be able to count on you
Or is your love in vain?

I been beat up too many times in matters of the heart that I now just expect the pain. I go into any new love affair totally blind with zero expectations. Some say the definition of madness is doing the same thing over and over. Well I guess that's me all over when it comes to relationships.

Thing is, I hate being alone even though I crave solitude daily. I like to be alone in the days to spend time in nature with my thoughts and then return to paint in my tiny studio of sorts. The latest piece I've been working on is called "The Heart Is A Lonely Planet" which I'm dedicating to my late father. I'm not always exactly sure what I'm trying to say with it, nevertheless I feel honour bound to complete it as a small humble way of honouring his memory. I guess I've been playing around with the idea of the human heart as a lonely planet that is all alone in the universe, looking for any sign of life out in the galaxy so it doesn't have to feel all by itself anymore. Who knows how it'll eventually turn out. Like with love, my art is a constant gamble.

I'll work until eight most evenings while listening to my daddy's collection of Bob Dylan records and then I'll go take a shower and try and distract my mind with some food and TV.

It's the night that breaks my defences. I hate being alone after the sun has deserted me.

It's not like I haven't spent many lonely nights without someone next to me, though I struggle to fall sleep on my own due to my fear of the dark. Had that fear since I was a kid and it hasn't gone anywhere one day since. Only time it does is when I'm in a man's arms and I can close my eyes and pretend I'm back in my own father's. Some say that is Freudian. I say that's just being human. My father was the only man who could make me feel better about facing the night terrors. He would tell me stories, sing me songs and talk in cosmic, yet accessible ways, about how to think about the nature of death. You see, the thing is I lost my mother when I was small and I've been a scared, anxious thing ever since. You don't even have to grasp the concept of death at that age to know what it means somehow. It's almost atmospheric, something that hangs in the air like dust particles. I guess it's been a shadow over me ever since we lost her. Some people find a way through their grief. I never did. Probably explains why my relationships with men are so problematic. Having lost my father now too, it's only exacerbated how I felt before.

Seems I'm even more at the mercy of the men I let into my life.

My latest companion seems like a step in the right direction though, although I've said that before and got my wings burnt to ashes.

See, I'm not afraid to get rid of bad apples when they come along in my life. It's when a good one comes along I freak out and worry I'll fuck it all up with my crazy shit and they'll run away. This new one is good, though. He only runs as far as the kitchen. We sleep at different hours. But just knowing he's in the same space helps me sleep better. It's like the clock downstairs with the crazy loud minute hand. Just hearing it makes me feel there's a presence in the place somehow.

My dad once said you should only be with someone who represents your higher self esteem. Greatest bit of advice anyone ever gave me. I know that was true of my mother for him before she died. But it's my bad that I've only tended to choose partners when my self esteem is at rock bottom. I tried extra hard to put on a brave face with this new one though and although I've let the mask slip and shown him a few of the horrors that lurk behind my pretty face, he hasn't shown any sign of leaving me.

Maybe it's my heart that is a lonely planet that's only just been truly discovered by the first person since my dad who truly cares.

One small step for him, perhaps, but a giant leap for me personally.

I just pray it's not in vain.

Wait. Did you hear that?

Sounded like the top of a beer bottle being popped.