Borderline love, I'm coming to learn, is a very confusing thing. In fact, I'm not sure it's love at all in a traditional sense. I think love in a traditional "normal" way would be mutual support and empathy for the other partner, independence, altruism and selflessness for the other's benefit, and a real interest in the health well-being and happiness of the other partner above yours. How would this compare to borderline love? I guess to put it is a focus on your emotional needs, having them meet, and the other partners obligation to do so. It's is a matter of dependence, inability to be separate beings, and an searing emotional intensity. It is crazy sex and tremendous physical intimacy which makes up for some of the lack of the emotional intimacy. It is pretty damn unhealthy.

Why would I write this? Well, I'm trying to analyse where I stand, or more importantly, what stock do I have in my ex girlefiend, why does it matter so much to me, and what it is exactly that is hurting me so bad. Now, obviously these answer are as wishy washy and fluctuating as my moods. Having said that, there are definite things that make me question the nature of this love, but at the same time re-affirm it in other ways.

I wonder if what I miss is not her but the attention and her caring loving nature. I wonder if why I miss her is because I was so incredibly attracted to her. I wonder if it's because she's the only who always made me cum when she gave me head (she's pretty much the only one) or could have me up and ready after just finishing. I wonder if it's the way she made me feel loved for once.

I mean, I would make sense, it certainly fills the void does it not?

But on the same token, the sex with her was never the best. She wasn't the most attentive, nor was she the most affectionate. She didn't say or share things with me, no I love you just to say it, nothing of the sort. She was usually busy, she had a lot on the go, and I wasn't her number one priority.

I think the reality is, borderlines love and feel love the same way everyone else does. It's not that we desire anything different than anyone else, the security and the affection, the companionship and understanding. I think the difference lies in the reciprocal nature of the relationship. That we need more than we can give. We are deficient in the things we share and tend to take more than we give. Our lives are very focused on trying to become validated, we can't self-validate, and so we have a partner who has to do the validation for two. It's a big burden to place on one person the problems of two.

I can say for certain that being borderline and loving is not the same as you would think of it as a non. It's far more dependent and we draw out source of identity from it. In the wake up a relationship's end we find ourselves scrambling to pick up the pieces of our life, presumably because the eggs of our life were entirely in the basket of that relationship. It's hard at that point to discern between love and the need to reconcile and what the basis for it is. Is it to emotionally heal ourselves, to feel whole again, or because there still exists a bond.

One thing is for certain. Love with a borderline is most likely always complex. And I can say trying to look at my love and assess my relationship, love and everything else with it, most things are not straightforward and indeed in many things, paradoxes.

There, I said it, I ######6 hate blogs. I pretty much despise them as some sort of virtual attention seeking space designed for the whiny and disillusioned or the arrogant and narcissistic to work either whine and complain or tell everyone how $#%^ really is.

And here I am. Damn, have things really gotten this bad? If I told my past self I'd be blogging about my feelings on a peer-support forum for psychiatric affected people, I'd never believe it. And yet here I am to whine and cry and complain, to document the idiotic problems of a life which really aren't even problems. Really, I'M the problem. If it were the world, well, then why am I in the minority who can't deal with $#%^ properly and are so unhinged emotionally? Good thing I can keep it together in public, god only knows where I'd be if I couldn't pull myself together for the masses. God, I am pretty ######6 lame.

How did I end up here? I got dumped. And I can't deal with it. How ######6 lame is that? Don't people like... move on and such, get a life and go forward? Not this guy. I nail it into reverse and strut down memory lane every chance I get, which is when I'm not in my fantasy future planning how to right my wrongs and patch it all up. It's very productive, didn't you know?

I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder, and I don't dispute it one bit. I'm pretty good and hiding my emotions. Or so I like to tell myself. I've been called volatile, a time-bomb, intense. I cannibalize my relationships with intense paranoia and make-believe scenarios of the inevitable abandonment I only so rightfully deserve for not measuring up to the other guy. While I've been better at catching myself getting angry, if I lose it, run. I get nasty, mean, and violent if the mood so strikes.

I'm here because I cannibalized my relationship with the one person I love, the person who I'd like to spend the rest of my life with. The prettiest girl I've met, the most classically beautify and sophisticated looking girl I've met, and she's got a smoking hot body too! I'm here because I destroyed it, I made it toxic, and she was smart enough to run. I'm here because I started to cling and harass her, and she got smart and asked me to leave her alone. I'm here because I half-heartedly tried to OD, tried to guilt her for it, and she's run away for good cutting off all methods of contact. I'm here because it's consuming my life, my regrets, my longing and that gaping hole which resulted when she left.

I'm here because I miss her, and I can't tell her. I'm here because I'm clearly ###$ in the head, and don't operate the way most people do. I'm here because I ###$ up big time.

And there's not one day that goes by when I don't hate it, and every day hurts just as much as the last.