Don't Drink The Milk...

My mother woke up while I was watching a movie, and she mumbled in her half-sleep voice.

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“I just had a dream that your father wanted to come back to me, but I stood in the doorway and wouldn’t let him in.  Isn’t that funny?”

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Sometimes, I wonder if we really grow up to become our parents.  If so, I’d love to know which of my parents gave me the jangled intimacy issues, and which gave me the stunted ability to show emotion? 

I’ve been spending quite a bit of time, lately, looking at the many creative ways I keep romantic interests at a safe distance away from me.  It’s certainly Not because I want to, but rather it’s ingrained and I can’t “Out” grain it.  Oh, I know…..How on earth could people who make your heart skip, be unwelcomed?  How on earth could palm sweat from the simple sight of someone be unbearable?  How on earth could the mere possibility of letting someone into your life be…a threat?  And yet, I - Elena Gravelle - have made it into an art form.  I amaze myself, sometimes, because I’m so skilled at it.  So, who do I get to blame, my Dad or my Mom?

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If you look in the Dictionary under “wishy-washy”, you will find my Dad’s picture.  Likewise, if you look under “emotionally unavailable”, there’s Mom.  How these two managed to get together, I’ll never really know.  But, after getting married, their teeter-totter compatibility still managed to wreak havoc through the years.  They got divorced when I was 8, but reconciled and remarried not too long afterward….How sweet.

Then, when I was 17, they divorced again….No really, this time they MEAN IT!!

When I was 26, I discovered that my Dad (who had a different wife) was often calling my Mom (who had a different husband).  Why, you wonder? 

It seems, they were consoling each other on their joint marital woes…..

I’m sorry, What??

Apparently, I have adopted this odd habit.  I once had a girlfriend who was upset that I never said “I love you”.  It took me many months before I could even utter the words.  When we broke up five years later, I never wanted to see her again.  But, two years after that, we became friends and we remain good friends to this day.  She’s happily engaged to someone else, and yet strangely enough, when we talk and catch up, I say “I love you”….and I say it Now, much more easily. 

I know.  I don’t understand it, either.

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The truth is, my father loved but couldn’t commit.  My mother couldn’t express love, but remained loyal.  My father communicated with words and my mother communicated with silence.  My father was passionate.  My mother was stoic.  I seem to be a hot, messy hodgepodge of the two of them.  I have difficulty committing, but my heart is true.  If I like you, I won’t say it, but somehow I can express it with a gesture.  I can’t TELL you I love you, but I love you deeply just the same.  Everything that exists in my heart is held back because my brain tells it to do so……

There’s my answer………

In the simplest of terms, my Dad controlled my heart and my Mom controlled my brain…and neither sides EVER communicated.

Great!  What am I suppose to do with that inherited gene?  How am I suppose to make that work?  So far, I have failed, failed, failed in all my attempts.

And, while my mom continues to have reconciliation dreams about my dad, I am left playing tug-of-war with myself.

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Holden:  I love you.
Alyssa:  You love me??
Holden:  I love you. And not in a friendly way, although I think we’re great friends. And not in a misplaced affection, puppy-dog way, although I’m sure that’s what you’ll call it. And it’s not because you’re unattainable. I love you. Very simple, very truly……………if bringing it to light means we can’t hang out anymore, then that hurts me. But I couldn’t allow another day to go by without getting it out there, regardless of the outcome, which by the look on your face is to be the inevitable shoot-down. And I’ll accept that. But I know some part of you is hesitating for a moment, and if there is a moment of hesitation, that means you feel something too…………….And even if we never speak again after tonight, please know that I’m forever changed because of who you are and what you’ve meant to me, which - while I do appreciate it - I’d never need a painting of birds bought at a diner to remind me of.

      (Alyssa exits the car)

Holden: Was it something I said?

CHASING AMY

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9/14/10