It's possible that I haven't read enough posts, but I wonder if anyone else has dealt with this same issue. I was sexually abused by a teacher from when I was eight until I was ten. Needless to say, my childhood was robbed from me. I rarely talked. My social skills became almost non-existent. I had grotesque nightmares every night. I was gentle and decent, but I lived in an insane fantasy world until I was twenty, or so. I'm twenty-five now.
I've known I was gay since I was fifteen and got a crush on a boy in high school. I never spoke to him, but I was certain that I loved him. I was a gifted artist, and many of my paintings were inspired by him. I wrote poems about him. I thought constantly of kissing him, but not really about sex. I often prayed to God that I would bump into him on the street. And then what? Then he would love me: it was all very vague and childlike.
Even while I was being abused, I remember having elaborate fantasies that involved love, with one pretty, female teacher and a few, female classmates.
The pattern continued in college. I never stalked anyone. But I was utterly obsessed with several men. I wrote an e-mail to a virtual stranger when I was seventeen beginning, "I think I love you, and I never felt this way before." Fortunately, I became much saner almost immediately afterwards, as if that was the shock that I needed.
I've gotten much better. I most comfortable when I'm alone, and have only a few friends. Whenever anyone comes on to me, I almost always deflect their advances. But when I do like someone, I fall incredibly hard. Again, the desire is almost nonsexual. Currently, I feel this way about a woman. I'm an aspiring writer, and her stand-in character has appeared in my last five short stories. I don't know her very well. She goes to grad school near where I live. I haven't seen her since May, when she went home for the summer.
It's a little confusing to be longing for a woman, but, really, it feels basically the same as my other infatuations. The major difference now is that I realize it might not work, and that if it doesn't, there will be someone else. I've been disappointed before. In fact, I've been disappointed each time. But in many ways, I'm still that ten-year-old, pining desperatly to be loved.
I'm uncomfortable with sex. I never actively seek it. More so, I run away from it. But love preoccupies me constantly, and has since the abuse. I feel numb with everything else. Others have remarked that I act emotionless. I do get sad, and angry. But the sentiment quickly evaporates. I guess that's why, even with all the traumas in my life, I can't say I've ever been "depressed."
There's an emptiness inside me. I can recall who I was before the abuse. It's as if I'm only a ghost of him. I'm pale from staying indoors. I'm shy and nervous. I'm underweight. It's irrational to think that love will make me whole again, but I can't not think it. I've gone through many drastic changes, but that's always remained the same.
A man hit on me once in high school. That night, I held myself in my bathroom and cried, telling myself that he loved me. I guess I'm also wondering if someone that scarred could really have love.