Monday, April 28, 2014

Happiness Is Personal

Another one bites the dust. I say that partially in jest, partially in frustration. The latest fella I was dating called things off last week. My heart is torn because I know it's for the better but I grew quite fond of him. I approached dating him differently than I had with any other guy. I had fun. I didn't put high stakes on things.

I've been watching a lot of Bob's Burgers lately. 
He hasn't processed his last breakup. A year or so relationship. They lived together for part of that time. Knowing this, I moved very cautiously. Red flags went a blazing when he added me on Instagram and there were very recent photos of them together. One was even captioned, "Best girlfriend ever." I approached it calmly, and asked for him to give me a bit of context. But before I texted him I had a good ten minutes of freaking out and emergency trip to the bathroom because my insides went haywire. He is not aware of said freak out. Social media has a way of throwing wrenches in perception. I recommend avoiding all adding/friending until once you're comfortable together.

After I heard his side of the breakup it was clear the relationship's end was a long time coming. I mean the woman moved out. That's not the most convenient thing to do. I pried a bit to see if he had some time to heal. To be sad. To wallow a bit. To realize he's still a whole without her. It seemed like he had moved on. He even took down the photo that threw me for a loop. I felt good but still weary. 

When he sent the initial text to say he needed to stop seeing me it didn't come as a surprise. Regardless, it is a bummer. That said, my level of respect for him has gone through the roof. His ability to admit he feels broken, and doesn't want to drag me through his road to recovery makes me warm inside. I want to shower him with love because he has done the right thing. Unfortunately, the right thing for me to do is to give him space. My ego smiled when he said I was something special. 

We had a very open and honest conversation over the phone a few hours after the initial text. It was strange because I didn't start sweating during the call like I normally do when on the phone. I care for him and I was able to share with him how I've worked through depression. Human to human I understood where he was coming from. As we spoke it was clear we have a real connection. Unlike Hansel who wasn't ready to love nor receive love, this man is very loving. He is a breath of fresh air. Except, despite how hard he tried, he couldn't open up to receive my affection.

A sense of hope comes over me dreaming of the day that he might call, text, or email to say he's ready. The door isn't closed but I do feel foolish holding that door open. We agreed I wouldn't wait for him but I can't say I'll be jumping into anything soon. I need a break from dating. If someone crosses my path I'll trust my judgement to know if it's right. God knows I've learned enough lessons in dating in the past few years. With each lesson I better be closer to the right partner. I have to trust that I am or I will go crazy. 

I'm not in pieces. On Friday night after a few drinks and a fun night with friends I cried on the drive home. Bourbon has a way of bringing out pain. 
I also made a killer playlist on Spotify that I'm still impressed with sober. Luckily those are the only tears I've shed.  I'm in a place where I'm capable of letting someone in. I've matured in the way I approach dating, and I'm comfortable with who I am. In a relationship or not I am a bad ass independent human being. He's not right now. There's no reason to be in tears. But how many more lessons do I have to learn? My patience level is waning. Then I read an article like this one that reminds me I have many years ahead. 

I read Maria's beautiful post that touches on being alone and embracing independence. Maria is a fellow sweater, she's one of us. I encourage you to read her work. Maria's words remind me it's a personal journey to happiness. You can't force anyone to get there. It has to be on their own accord. I've done that, and hopefully Michael can get there too.   

In good news, I'll get back to more sweaty related posts soon. A wonderful sweat free Renn Faire trip is worth sharing, and the very sweaty lunch I had when I learned my boss was putting in her two weeks.

Let's be in touch.