Time and Time Again

I just got off of the phone with a woman that I've seen a few times recently. She went with the "It's not you, it's me." delivery. I can see her point, though, because she's been through a lot, and needs time and space to find and center herself again. I honestly just hope that she finds happiness and peace for herself. I had worried over how depressed she had become, and couldn't do much to help, as I'm in a precarious place myself. Neither of us needs to be in a relationship right now.

I am, children aside, alone. Alone, and terrified, of being alone, of being unloved, of being unworthy. I can't count the number of women that I sent hopeful messages to on various dating sites in the recent past. I can count on one hand the number of responses that I received. The equivalent, to my mind, of approaching a stranger and introducing yourself, having them look at you, and then walk away without acknowledging that there was ever an attempt at interaction. I've decided that dating sites are evil.

I had resolved to engage in things that would, theoretically, put me in contact with other people who shared my interests, thus increasing the odds of meeting a woman that would be compatible with me. I decided shortly after that I wasn't ready. I need to work on myself more. Lose more weight, tone up, bolster my self confidence and esteem. My lady friend this evening brought up an interesting point, though. I shouldn't need to try to make myself perfect in order to believe that I can be loved. I should be loved for who I am. Evidently, I have things to offer.

I've found myself thinking, over the last day or two, about my previously failed relationships. My marriage. Jen. Dawn. They all failed, and they all had one thing in common. Me. In the parenting class that I had to take before my divorce decree could be issued, the instructor gave us an interesting set of statistics. Over half of all marriages end in divorce. The percentage of failed marriages increased dramatically for those remarrying, with increases in failure rate per successive marriage. The theory is that, as you become accustomed to leaving bad relationships, it becomes easier. Serial spouses become accustomed to rationalizing why the relationships failed and walk away without holding themselves accountable. I don't know how true this is, or how it jives with the concept that we should be able to be loved as we are, without changing ourselves to meet the needs of others.

I just know that I keep failing. Failing at responsibility, accountability, maturity, patience. And that it doesn't get any easier. I'm an incredibly fortunate man. I recognize that, whether or not I have someone by my side through my journey, I'm still on this journey. I could focus on not having someone with me, or I could focus on the wealth of beauty and wonder that surrounds me, in a world that does not focus itself on me. I need to be more appreciative, and attentive, giving my all to my children, while I still have this time with them in their youth, time to make memories.

These things are easy to conceptualize, easy to understand, easy to vocalize. Much, much harder to do.

A Road of Troubles

I broke up with the Girl last week. It was hard. It was painful. But it was the right thing to do. I started seeing a therapist not long ago, and when I elaborated on some of the problems that I had when trying to relate to the Girl, my therapist asked me two questions that broke the construct. "Are you happy? And if you're not, and it's because of the person that she is, do you really want to spend the next 30 years of your life this way?" I wasn't happy. Comfortable, certainly. Secure. But not happy. And I knew then, that if I weren't happy, it wouldn't be right or fair to her to drag it out. She had paid for tickets for the two of us to go to Mexico next month to celebrate her birthday. I knew, even before one of my friends told me, that going on the trip and THEN breaking up with her would make me a pretty horrible person. I couldn't do that. It wouldn't be right.

We have one life. Every day, in whatever way we choose to spend it, we aren't going to get back. If I had stayed in that situation, I would have been making the same mistake that I made throughout my marriage. I would have been settling for a situation that made me less than happy, and submitting myself to pain and suffering for the sake of someone else. I learned, in this, that even when you're comfortable, even when you have stability, if you aren't truly happy, it's all just window dressing.

After the breaking up was finished, a difficult conversation with some ugly revelations that only confirmed my suspicion that neither of us had truly been okay with where we were, I set out to make some things right. To mend some fences. I had, in the aftermath of our first separation, walked away from someone who was very important to me. I had allowed myself to be talked into believing that her presence in my life was what had kept me from being happy. No, actually, it had kept the Girl from feeling as though we could be happy together. I had never questioned whether or not her presence brought light and warmth into my life, because for as long as I embraced it, it did. Now I have to hope that I didn't burn that bridge. Not because I'm trying to run back into my past again and find comfort in memories and rekindled romances. No, I've learned my lesson in that too. I only want to keep one of the sweetest friends that I have ever had in my life from fading away again. I have very few close friends, and hate to think of driving one away.

I have hope for the future. Hope that I'll find someone who values the gifts that I have. That I'll find someone who isn't just looking for a body to warm her bed and drive the demons of loneliness away. Someone who sees giving and loving as ephemeral gifts, not to be measured by the worth of the material. Someone who shares at least some of my passions. Surely there has to be someone out there who would choose to be that person in my life. I just have to wait, until they've come into my life, and hope that I'll be wise enough to recognize them when they do. In the meantime, I'm going to be joining the local writers guild this week, and attending local literary events as I can find them. You won't find a diamond if you're looking in a salt mine.