“I’d have sex with you every day if I could”, “I want you in bed!” – sex is improving, I’ll give him that!
I once told JD that should we ever break up, it’d be hard for me – since he set the bar so high.
I think I’m experiencing just that – he was smart, funny, great in sex and caring. For sure, he had shortfalls as well, highly disorganised, impulsive, anxious and trying to overpower here and there. But I’ve never been with someone who I felt the way I felt with him, it’s hard to describe, really… I guess secure is the closest. Calm. In the right place.
So I guess for now I did the right thing, I’m working hard on getting involved in aspects of my life that aren’t dating related. So far I notice humble progress. And that’s all I could hope for.
I’ve always boasted that I have the precious ability to see the big picture. To raise myself above the situation and see where it belongs on the bigger scale of events.
Guess what? The joke’s on me! With dating I got so obsessed with how, that I totally lost sight of why, what for. My shrink asked me some time ago what I needed a relationship for. I’ve been coming up with multiple answers, listing my needs that only a romantic relationship could satisfy, things a guy had to have to be a good match etc.
But I never looked at it as a big picture question before. As in: what happens if I’m not in a relationship? And the honest answer is – I have no idea! I haven’t been single for fifteen years. And before that I was either “in love” or whatnot. I’ve never EVER been single.
So here I am, learning how to be single at thirty five. Better late than never I guess. One of the problems it’s that I don’t know anyone who’s single and happily so. The closest to this is a girlfriend who never had much luck with guys, but it’s not due to lack of trying.
My mom’s been single ever since my dad passed away, but it’s different. She’s been a highly self sufficient person all her life. I’m a social animal.
Having said that, I know that I have to try out the singlehood. We all fear the unknown. I have to open this can of worms and yet again discover that it’s not that scary. Like anything else in life it’s got to have its advantages. Currently I only know what I won’t have. So to break the unlucky cycle of dating failures, I’ll try out singlehood. Might learn to appreciate my own achievements more and/or quit idealising guys in the process… Who knows!
In a minute of weakness I messaged you last Monday saying I missed you. I immediately regretted it, but oh well.
A week later you message me back, asking if I were okay, apologising for not answering earlier, saying you didn’t want to make it worse for me.
I’m definitely not replying to this pity text. I dropped my self-respect back then, I’ll admit. But it was a fleeing moment, no more. Too many things reminded me of you that weekend and things weren’t going well elsewhere.
I’m good. Not happy, but content. I’m still getting over the breakup, I won’t lie. But as time goes by, I realise how strong and self sufficient I’ve become. I met someone really great for me, but when it was over, I didn’t break down, there was no feeling of huge hurt or deprivation. Just sadness and disappointment.
Another thing I’m discovering is that I was always in a rush, measuring time in hours or minutes, never weeks or even days. I’m not anymore. If my personal life doesn’t pick up in the next few weeks or even months, it’s all good. I have other things to keep me occupied.
Fuck buddies. Hmm. So far so good. Quite curious in fact. Odd but not awkward. Some excitement too. From novelty and simplicity.
The date last Thursday went alright. He’s been more on the asking side, I’ve found a number of similarities with G. Definitely a G.2.
Unlike the first time, not only do I see his moves, but also what he’s trying to accomplish. Also see through all his BS.
All in all, he’s a good distraction, fun and smart, no more. He asked me out again. And since he’s a good kisser, I’m going. Also bought me a coffee today, called first and asked me about my preference too.
We agreed to go for a drink on Thursday. JM said that Thursday worked for him too, but a. if I wait for the guy, I’ll die without much action and b. I can squeeze both in one evening. I’m a master planner!
Most of the time when we choose words we don’t do it consciously. We just speak. Or write. Or think.
I was texting with my friend yesterday, and used the expression “I got dumped”. And immediately felt something like an itch, or when you’re wearing uncomfortable shoes or clothing.
I reread the post I made here on the subject – and it clicked – breakup is the right word, getting dumped isn’t!
I’m not an object to feel like someone can dump me. I’m a person with my own will. All that another person can do to me, is quit being in my life.
Does it hurt? It definitely does so. Like any other loss. You’re upset when you lose your favourite pen/sunglasses/whatnot. Of course you’re sad when a person you had feelings for decides to walk away.
But what differentiates a mature approach to the whole thing from infantile one is that I don’t feel like a victim, don’t accuse the guy of betrayal, don’t feel like I’m broken. Things break. I just feel sad, upset and down. And from experience I know that this, too will pass.
I was also listening to Roxette on my run this morning. I don’t like their after breakup songs anymore at all. All this sitting around, staring at walls, thinking about the guy and hoping he’s thinking about her too crap is well, crap.
It’s surrendering, it’s self victimisation. Self pity. Gloating over your own misery.
I have now developed a rehab program that works for me – getting together with friends and family, watching movies, shopping (clothing shopping can be tricky though – I keep swinging between slutty and kinky stuff and dark and ugly stuff), running, cleaning (of all things!!!).
I guess it takes the lowest low to assess one’s progress. Two years ago I was in shards and shreds. G. took advantage of it and I ended up in a six months of bullshit sex only.
Sounds like I blame him, right? Not at all. I was the one who felt like a hurt sheep and let a wolf who donned a sheep’s skin approach me.
I’m not doing it again. I only shed few tears so far. And this time I think I had more reasons – the guy shortened the distance way further than anyone before him.
And yet, I’m relatively alright. I did pick up smoking again and drank few beers. Was also more hopeful about JM than I had in a few months… But now I’m mostly relying on my friends, not a guy to support me through my recovery. So far so good.
I think I found a recipy for not falling into yet another addiction. It’s both simple and not.
Addiction is a monster, really, or rather a siren, who tries to gain all your attention and with it all your time and energy, promising excitement, fun and happiness, a state of hakuna matata in return.
Enjoying something is a good thing. A healthy and energising one. Making it the only fun thing in your life, obsessing over it is not.
The recipy to prevent anything from turning into a monster is – not letting any one pleasure to become The One – no matter what it is – switching the pleasures, learning to enjoy things that were stressful before – if you can’t change the circumstances,. change the attitude – it works, trust me, I am doing it over and over again – takes some practice and willpower, but it does!
Second piece of the equasion is to channel energy from sources of pleasures into things that aren’t that great at the moment and therefore require some willpower applied to do them. Like today – when I got asked out for yet another date – instead of starting to daydream and constantly thinking about the guy – I just went on to extend my exercising program, worked on some other stuff I planned as ‘probable’ for tonight. It’s not as fun, but I used the excitement to get them done. Not to grow the importance of the guy in my mind.