Part II of On love and the impulsive girl
I don’t have a type, at least I don’t think so. But taking inventory of the men who’ve been in my life, I’d say they were all relatively good looking, funny, and full of spirit and life. So when, after an almost three-year hiatus from dating or being interested in someone, I decided to be open to someone, I felt somewhat safe because he was really none of those things. He was attractive enough, sometimes funny, and seemed calm and nice. Different. It seemed that that could only be good, right? It hadn’t worked out before so breaking my pattern was the way to go, except I was wrong. The nice guy turned out to be a bigger douche–and I suspect a big pervert–than anyone I’d ever dated. The red flags had been there and I had ignored them. (I was going to really rat him out here, but I will keep some things private)
So you’d think that after this, yet another bad experience, I’d crawl back into my love-hating hole. Sure, that sounds like me and it’s extremely tempting to put myself back in a situation where the chances of getting hurt are slim, but I realized I don’t want to go backwards. I’m better than that and I’m better than how he treated me in the end. Instead, I decided to view myself for the woman he treated me as in the beginning, because it wasn’t all bad. The immaturity and inability to communicate like an adult he showed in the end was his problem and not a reflection on me. I remain the woman he desired in the beginning. The woman he said was sweet, kind, and beautiful.
“You can spend minutes, hours, days, weeks, or even months over-analyzing a situation; trying to put the pieces together, justifying what could’ve, would’ve happened… or you can just leave the pieces on the floor and move the fuck on.” ~ Tupac Shakur
So what’s a girl to do next?
Move on, keep an open mind, and see what else is out there. To that end, this week I decided to give online dating another try. I’m skeptical. I tried online dating in my 30s and while I didn’t mind it in the beginning, I ended up finding it exhausting and gave it up months later. I didn’t feel that dating should be THAT much work. So why try it again? Simply because the alternative is giving up on ever finding someone and that option seems even more exhausting in the long run. Besides, if nothing else it may give me fodder for blog posts. No?
This wouldn’t be my choice if I felt I truly had one. I’m still sad and confused and wondering what happened, but I refuse to keep wallowing in the questions and instead I say, “NEXT!”