Talking to the void

I’d like to know if the relationships depicted in books, movies, TV shows, etc. exist. Or are they exaggerated and manipulated to fit the plot like the rest of the story?

I wish and have wished for years, for someone to love me and care enough about me just because I am me. I covet the idea of someone thinking about me in the grocery store (or anyplace for that matter) because they see something they know i’d like and get it for me on a whim (I’d be happy with a picture and a caption “thinking of you”). Or, someone telling me to “get dressed. I’m taking you somewhere special,” because a night out was planned to surprise me. Maybe even a “hey, I know the kids have been hard on you lately, why don’t I take care of dinner tonight.” Ultimately I would like someone to look at me with complete adoration despite my flaws.

Instead, my world consists of store trips consisting of items on a list only. If it isn’t on the list, it isn’t purchased. Date nights occur only because it’s obligatory, i.e. to celebrate a birthday and only when the restaurant has been chosen and the reservation has already been made. Bad days where I don’t feel like cooking are met with “I can get something for myself,” no thought if anyone else in the house might need dinner too. And, any interactions I encounter are mundane and met with disregard.

I am tired. I am sad. I am lonely. I want to feel supported rather than being the support. When I ask for these things, I am gaslit into thinking I am being ridiculous and overly emotional. I am told I am lucky to have such a great guy. No man acts that way. So, again, I ask, do the fictional relationships actually exist? Do people ever feel completely supported, loved, cherished and cared for? Is it ever a reality or am I chasing rainbows? I really wish I knew.

I don’t know because I don’t think I have felt that from anyone. My father was a narcissist and incapable of true love. My mother spent her time trying to please him. I have never been interesting enough for my sister. My children are children and see me only as a mother; someone who does for them not the other way around. And, my husband seems to follow in all their footsteps. For this reason, I am a quintessential people pleaser. Maybe if I try hard enough, do enough, give enough, I’ll be enough. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to work because they leave as soon as I no longer give. And, eventually, I always get tired of constantly doing the giving – it’s exhausting. My father stopped speaking to me a year ago because I didn’t do enough. I have lost countless friends the moment I set boundaries and stand up for myself, and no matter how hard I try or how loud I scream, talking to my family falls on deaf ears. So, maybe it is me – maybe I’m not enough. Maybe I don’t try enough. Maybe I give up too soon. But, on the other hand, maybe, the unicorn is real. Maybe, somewhere out there someone might actually care enough about me to think about me and feel true empathy when I say I am sad and lonely. Maybe, somewhere out there someone would make me feel special. Make me feel like I was the best thing to happen to them. Maybe somewhere, sometime, someone could love me. I don’t know.