Black Hole

“After calling my anxiety hormonal…” I paused to gulp air and tears. “Terry said I gave my number out like confetti, that I’m trying to fill a void and that I want to be loved too much!”

I sobbed to my friend Gaetan, who did not expect my emotional flood when he answered my call.

“What’s wrong with that?” I was choking on my sobs, “Tell me what’s wrong with that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, Raquel. That’s normal. It’s normal to want to be loved,” Gaetan replied softly and sympathetically.

It felt good to hear him say that – for two reasons. First, because his voice was so soothing: it reminded me of the man in my head I dreamt up when I was about 13 – no face or name, just that voice of some future man in my life who would shush me and tell me I’m wonderful. And secondly, it felt good to hear Gaetan say that because on more than one occasion he has told me that I’m trying too hard.

I’ve been told that a lot: I want a relationship too badly; I want to be loved too much. I’m too obsessive, I think too much, I over-analyze, I need to calm down. Men tell me that. Women tell me that. My friends tell me that and so do other people who have no right to comment about my business.

So to hear Gaetan say, “It’s normal to want to be loved,” was much needed relief from a world I’ve been feeling has been picking on me lately. It didn’t make up for all those busybody remarks, but for the first time in a long time, it was a comment that echoed what I was thinking in my own head. It validated me and my own internal monologue – telling me I’m okay. Piss on everyone who doesn’t think so.