La douler exquise

LA douler exquise means the heart- wrenching pain of

Wanting affection of Someone unattainable. 

I ask how many of you reading this have experienced this pain.  Heart-wrenching is correct for it is a pain that takes a toll on you physically.  Sometimes the pain starts with a head ache.  Half the time you don't hear anything anyone says...At times, you are walking around in a daze...At other times you just want to sleep...The worst is when your stomach hurts..I mean it really hurts to the point that you either can not eat or you binge til you get sick not to mention the anxiety attacks that hit without warning whether at work or suddenly when you are in your bed. 

The weird thing is, would you be willing to give up that joy that you felt when you were with this person to avoid this pain that came after.  Like an ecstasy pill or a line of coke, when you rise to that high that is truly  unexplained but once the affect goes away and now you are at the lowest down and crave solitude more than anything else.

This is a phenomenon that I have battled for years.  I'm in my 40s and not shy to say that  I have had my share of lovers.  I've experience the high, the joy, the laughter, the "cloud 9"..and then also the arguments, the fights, the break ups, the pain, the sorrow, the drama, the melancholy...some were more drastic than others.  Some l got over in a few days and some to this day I still remember the pain vividly.  Yet would I give up those precious moments of pure ecstacy because of the pain that followed?

Of course this may be the reason why many prefer to be married.  No drama and no pain in this manner.  Yet no high either...no "wow"...no screams of joy...no "vavoom"...Could that be my "thing"...maybe it's an addiction..and maybe some would call it self sabotage....but at this point in my life I have to say NO....if I have to choose..I would rather ride this roller coaster.  

I would like to ask how many of you would agree with me on this?

From Alfred Lord Tennyson's poem In Memoriam:27, 1850:

I hold it true, whate'er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.