I had a friend come to me with lovely news about how a really attractive guy we knew from high school approached her. And it reminded me of how magical I used to think the world was. She’s panicking because she has no idea why he held her hand and she wants to know but there are so many things that could be completely normal about this, and it’s a pain in the ass.
I’ve always been one to believe in fairy-tale endings and happily-ever-afters and that sort of thing. I want it to feel like magic when we meet each other and only increase with each day after that. I mean, sure, let’s make fun of me for these feelings, but this has been my dream since I was like thirteen. I’m literally like a twelve-year-old girl in a twenty year old man’s body. It’s rather weird sometimes. But I have this fear that I’ve already missed Mr. Right or, more recently, I’m not compatible with any other man on the planet.
And that’s heart-breaking and terrifying.
My last relationship was by no means a shit-show. Well, at the end it got pretty rough, but overall, he and I had some good moments. I won’t lie and say we didn’t. But this relationship did leave me afraid of everything. If I couldn’t make it work with someone who seemingly had their shit together; who claimed to be madly in love with me; who was willing to and had done so much for me; was basically willing to give me ALL the sex any time (because apparently that’s a thing some people desire: unlimited sex);and dealt with all my insanity, then how the hell could I make it work with someone else? So I panicked for months, trying to understand how I’d get through a breakup (because I knew I had to) and then love didn’t look so magical anymore.
I had given up on love being something grandiose and everything I ever wanted. I had literally changed as a person. I was afraid of everything. I was angry at everything. All this time I wasted, being the person I was in that relationship with a man who I never fell in love with, could have been used somewhere else. And since I admitted that I wasn’t actually in love with him from the beginning, I look at my feelings with a lot more scrutiny. I can never tell if I’m actually falling for someone, or if the loneliness is winning out again; if I’m desperate or scared. Stud, who I mentioned in another post was the first time I considered that I might actually be really into someone; the first time I had to let go and just admit it. That’s totally fucked…
So now I’m just a single, bitter man in the making. Nowadays though, I’m starting to believe in love. I couldn’t tell you why, but it’s so hard not to believe that I won’t have a happy ending like that. Where I’ve a husband and kids and they all drive me absolutely bat-shit insane…and yet I love them with every part of me forever. That’s beautiful, and I want my life to be about those kinds of things. So even though I’m in a bit of a slump, and it seems so hard to meet men that aren’t just looking for The D, I’m moving back into myself only with quite a bit of annoying caution.
You never know if something is going to work unless you try it. The fear of ruining something is stopping me from even attempting, and I’m working on that with myself.