I’ve sat here for the last half hour pondering what I wish to write about; heck, I’ve been pondering it for days. Everything inside my head is disjointed. On the bus the other day I got thinking about all the loves of my life. From the short-lived trysts, the long-winded disasters, each have defined a particular time in my life. Maybe that’s it? That THEY defined that time, and not me.

You know Mom, in the end, the one thing that I could always count on is the end. Longevity in love has been elusive for me. Of course, I’ve always somehow got around to blaming myself. Oh, I wasn’t this, or I didn’t say that. I was too fat, too forward, too frivolous, or too infatuated.

Today I relish my bachelorhood, languishing the morning away pondering it all.

On the weekend I ran into challenger-boy again. We briefly spoke this time, whereas in the past I have merely shared a sneer with him. So of course this week many a minute have been wasted wrapped in silly factious internal dialogues.

I still don’t know what to think. I mean, how do you treat someone who stood you up? My impression of him is that he’s either terribly simple, or maybe it was just his attempt at another kick at the can.

It’s not the first time I’ve seen him since that day last September when he failed to show for our date. I’ve seen him I believe 3 times since. The time before I saw he wanted to speak to me, but I ignored him,  instead he chose to leave the bar. Thankfully.

The first time I saw him after that retched weekend, I just gave him a nasty look. Though, this last time I didn’t, and not for any other reason then he took me off guard.

I’m by no means angry at him anymore, so the sneer is just my way of telling him to stay away. Because I didn’t this time, I keep expecting … what? Communication I suppose. UGH.

So this week I’ve been working out scenarios of fictitious dialogues – basically, practicing how to brush him off. The chances are rather slim I’ll have to utilize any of these statements, but I must be prepared. I must keep the wolves at bay. This person hit me in my gut at a weak point, and because of that I have all sorts of rotten confusing feelings.

Most of those feelings actually have nothing to do with him really, merely the circumstances. It hadn’t even been a year yet since Tim’s death, and deep down I knew I should have told him to go fish. You always said, wait a year.

I didn’t. Look what happened. I was smacked down just at a time when I should have been feeling FINALLY lifted up.

Having just moved here, having JUST got my shite back together within a place I could call my own. Bad timing. To be honest, at the time I thought I could just have this casual thing, and that would be ok. I was wrong. That idea is such an illusion.

So, what I’ve been ruminating on all week is whether or not I even know what love is? Sometimes I wonder if I have stumbled through it so many times now that I can’t even feel it anymore. I fear that I’ve lost the capacity. After so many failed attempts, false starts, and multiple endings, I no longer have the ability to feel that most illusive emotion.

Maybe I’ve pursued that illusive goal for so long now, that it’s as futile as a dog chasing a car? It’s not like I don’t think I’m worthy of it, I just don’t think I’m ready.

Then, maybe what I’m really struggling with is that I recognize that I now just want something so much more. I’m going to be 47 years old this year. Forty f’en seven.

And I finally figure it out – I don’t need a man to complete me, for I am complete. Frankly, I don’t know if I have room in my life now.

I’ve come to the realization that I’m not so much lonely, as merely alone. AND, that in each of the brief trysts I’ve had over the last 6 months I’ve felt somewhat confined, and have become rather angry. Not angry at anyone in particular, just angry. Frankly, astonishingly, I recognize that I’ve been happier when it was just me. That while I may miss having someone around, that when I have, I felt, as I said, really rather confined. Strangely so.

Tim’s been gone now 18 months. I think of him still every day. Rotten scoundrel that he was, and after all the stuff he put me through, and after all of it is said and done, damn it all, I did love him. How could I not? We went through so much together, and in such a short space of time. Those four years were one hell of a ride. How do you just walk into something else after such a life as we had together?

You were right Mom about the year. We need that year to heal and gather back our faculties I suppose. To work through the grief, and not take those feelings with you into another relationship.

Last night, as I sat in a new friends hot tub, and we chatted away about historical figures, about ancient Rome and as I sweated away in the cool nighttime air, I for the first time kept back any mention of Tim. I haven’t told this new friend anything about him.

This friend texted me last night to say he had the tub up and running and if I wanted to pop over. He seems nice. Not anything serious mind, but he is conveniently located just down a couple blocks, AND we seem to share similar interests. Yet as the night rolled on, I felt more and more compelled to go home. So I did. I don’t even know what his thoughts are, I’m not sure what he thought about me all of a sudden getting up and going. Nothing happened, and I’m thinking maybe I won’t hear from him again. I’m fine with that.

Last night I just started to feel alittle uncomfortable. I can’t say why, but I’m glad I decided to go before anything got to serious. I know in the past I would have stuck it out, and I’m proud I went with my gut. All I really wanted to do is go home and cuddle up with my dog and a archaeological documentary. How crazy is that? :-)

Love,