Cold

There have been those who, based on some of my blog entries, or IM conversations they’ve had with me, have judged me to be cold.

To some extent, this is true. But only partially true.

On one hand, I can be rather unemotional when it comes to my more casual lovers, as these relationships aren’t about love. Those who call themselves polyamorous claim they love every one of their lovers, but I personally think it’s more realistic to admit that I don’t fall in love with everyone I sleep with.

More to the point, I’m rather cold when it comes to family. I’ve never quite understood why a person should automatically love someone, simply because they share common DNA. I’ve read stories about children, siblings, parents who have put their family members through living hell, yet the person telling the story always insists that they love this person, anyway, just because they are family. This attitude is one that has always baffled the hell out of me.

Other than my parents, whom I deeply loved and respected, and will mourn for the rest of my life, I am curiously indifferent to most of my family. I have no real issues or animosity toward my siblings, but neither am I close to them. I’ve not seen them in ten years, nor do I really miss them. I don’t wish them any ill will, but I’m not terribly interested in their lives, either. I’m hoping my brother gets well soon, but if he’d died, I’d not have traveled the 700 miles to attend his funeral. It would have been pointless, as he’d not be there, and I feel nothing for my sister in law, nor their children.

And this is also true of my relationship with my son. I wasn’t in love with his mother, nor did I want to have children. I accepted the inevitable when she became pregnant, but never embraced the idea.

When I held him in my arms for the first time, I did not feel an overwhelming rush of love for him, like I’ve heard many parents describe. Nor have I ever really bonded with him in that way.

After his mother abandoned us, I took on the task of raising him myself, simply because it was the right thing to do. But it’s been a hard road. We have conflicting personalities, and my son has been oppositional to me since his earliest days. Today, we merely tolerate one another, instead of having any abiding love for each other.

I can’t say that I really resent him, though, as one person suggested to me. Nevertheless, I cannot summon up feelings for him that just aren’t there. As with my siblings, I don’t wish him any ill will.

My relatives thought me cold because I did not keep a 24/7 vigil at the hospital when my father had his heart attack, and after his funeral, when I went off with a lover, instead of enduring the insincere sympathy of relatives at the after-funeral family gathering.

They could not have been more wrong in this instance. I loved my father and cared deeply about his welfare. Simply because I chose not to display my feelings in front of them didn't mean I didn't care.

And this brings us to the other hand. I have feelings like anyone else, but I limit with whom I share my deeper emotions. I do not trust others quickly or easily, so most people only see a tip of the iceberg of just who I am.

For what it’s worth, this was a difficult entry to write.