This blog post is for mature audiences only.
Is it me? Is it like I have a beacon that only dogs and men with severe emotional problems can hear?
~"Monica Geller" (on Friends)
I caught only a few episodes of Friends but boy, oh boy, can I relate to that quote.
I haven't talked much about my love life lately. Honestly? There hasn't been much to talk about. For the most part, I have been teaching piano and making music of various kinds and reading and writing and blogging and keeping the home fires burning. I refuse to go back online to meet men; I went on a couple of dates with a friend of a friend but felt no real connection, and judging by the fact that he hasn't called me since our second rendezvous, he had the same experience.
I am generally okay with this. Yes, I still dream of meeting Mr. Right and living happily ever after. I will even admit to moments of downright despair. But I'm not holding my breath waiting for anything or anyone. And I have stopped asking myself what is wrong with me. There is NOTHING wrong with me. I have a rich and rewarding life, filled with creative work and caring friends and close family ties.
Take this morning, for example. I woke up early, went to my primary care physician for some routine blood work, came home and had some breakfast, then settled in at my laptop to work on my novel. As a result of being out of town three days for the GMTA Conference and under the weather on Monday, I am several thousand words behind on my NaNoWriMo project. But by 10:00, I was in the zone. Despite my best-laid plans, my characters have taken on lives of their own; I am compelled to keep writing so I can find out what happens next.
I typed furiously for an hour, then made the mistake of taking a break to check email. And there it was: a message from the one I loved. It was just a few words and an audio clip.
Of him having sex with another woman.
Maybe he just wanted to get me on the phone. If that was the case, it worked. Once I stopped shaking - and sobbing - I called him. His explanation? He hoped it would make me jealous so I would take him back.
And do you remember me mentioning the guy who left me at a club, leaving me to walk several miles home in the middle of the night? He has crawled back out from beneath the rock he has been hiding under, calling me and texting me several times a day, convinced that we are meant to be together, begging me to give him one more chance to prove his devotion to me. Won't I just go out to dinner with him on Friday night?
I will never be that hungry.
There was a time in my life when all this would have made me crazy. But I'm not the crazy one; THEY are. They are balloons full of hot air; today, I opened up my hands and let them go, without even bothering to watch them fade into oblivion.
Because I said goodbye a long time ago.