As Chris Rock said, “When you go out on a first date, you aren’t introducing yourself to that person, you are introducing them to your representative.” It is my experience that when people prefer continuous dating over establishing relationships, it’s because they are afraid of someone getting too close. So they go out with many… maybe after two months, pick one that seems promising, and go out for a few months, until things get heavy. Then the innate fear that this person might find out who they are appears…thus it’s time to end it, and the random dating cycle continues. It must really take a toll on a man’s credit card.
I’m not criticizing online dating. Who knows, it may be something for me to try. If anything, it gets me well-versed in making time for people, instead of filling it with all my activities. But I keep returning to my quality vs quantity debate. Yes, I could sign onto match.com and go out with five guys next week. But that hardly sounds like what I’m looking for – and equally, I wouldn’t want to go out with someone who is dating five other people. Love is a complicated thing, but I think we ourselves get in the way of it working smoothly.
I’m dying to get to know someone, and for them to get to know me. I hardly, if ever, have introduced anyone to my representative. I’m bruised, battered, and carry a ton of baggage that I presently carry around with me, like a giant purse. It’s hard to get to this age without having seen a few things, and felt a few things.
The end of my relationship was almost six months ago..the silence lasted the first few months, followed by sporadic email chains, and then a decision to see each other for an afternoon in July. It turned into a wonderful weekend together, one that began with nervousness and apprehension and ended with happiness and smiles. I had no expectation after it, but knew we both had a great time, hosting friends in the apartment we shared and watching the fireworks. I didn’t know what would happen, what I would even WANT to happen, since I wasn’t about to dismiss what I’ve been put through. But I knew after that weekend, that it was the first day I have smiled that genuinely in half a year – a full grin, from ear to ear, from my toes to my ponytail. So I did what I do best…I put myself out there again… and once again got rejected.
I realized something as I was stood atop the Duomo this past week, looking out over the great expanse of Florence. It hit me like the tons of stone it took to build that cathedral. I have to let go. It’s something I’ve refused to do – have argued with many about it. No, I’m not ready, but when are you ready to let it all go? It has to begin somewhere. I did not ever fully release, perhaps from a state of shock, a deep hope in my heart that these circumstances would change, or from the fear of letting him go forever. But he has let me go, and so I must do the same. After how great that weekend felt, I know that I will always feel the same about him…and I will never understand why this happened. Not fully. But I have to allow myself a chance to move on…He’s decided to see what else is out there, which means he doesn’t see me.
It’s been said that young souls learn to accept responsibility for their actions, mature souls learn to accept responsibility for their thoughts, and old souls learn to accept responsibility for their happiness. I’ve always considered myself to be an old soul, but I guess the hardest decisions are the ones that prove that.