Bad at Love

Accepting someone else made him happier than I ever could was the hardest thing to accept. Understanding the harder I tried to make him happy was what made it worse. Recognizing the pain I was in that set off my behavior to push him away was the reason I wasn’t happy either. Seeing the other woman get what I wanted instantly burned my soul.

Everyone says that I’ll be okay with time, but I think this loss is something that becomes a part of me. Everyone says that there’s a lesson to learn from this. I’m not sure what it is. I know I held on so tightly and settled because I was scared to date again. I’ve begun the cycle of being stood up, catfished, and ghosted, which is its own pain, but this fake relationship that I wanted so badly was equally lonely and equally painful if not worse.

It felt good not to want anyone else, though. It felt good to have consistency. It felt good to pretend someone loved me for once. It felt good to stop looking for what I was missing. It felt good not to be thrown away again until I was.

I’m 44 with three degrees, but I feel like I never left middle school romance. I can’t grow that way.

The older I get the harder it gets because time is less on my side to recover. Time is less on my side to ever be happy. While things happen in its own time, biologically, time will no longer allow me to have my own family. I’m watching my friends’ kids get married now. I understand more and more that no one is genuinely interested in me and motives become clearer much faster.

I never needed anyone to fight my battles, but I hate not having that man there. If I was someone’s girl, I wouldn’t attract so many people that would take their chances to use me,  whether it was for hookups, money, or just for time because they are bored. His presence would be like an automatic shield, but when I have to shield myself my energy stays drained.

I’m challenged to see any relationship as meaningful. I’m challenged to see beauty in my own successes, career, fitness, hobbies, whatever, and the darkness just pulls me in every morning when I wake up alone.

There’s a reason people go crazy in solitary confinement, and singlehood is its own version of that. Loving the wrong person was equally confining, though, even if maybe I just put his face on a deeper rooted problem within me.

I see my faults and see how the anxiety takes over and magnifies these and gets in my way. I continue working to better channel that energy by improving the environment around me in addition to improving me, but some things - good and bad - are just me.

I also know he is incredibly happy now, and if I truly love him, I should want nothing more for him. He has what I crave, and we should want that for everyone. The world is such a beautiful place when you’re in love.

I heard that once you accept pain it will go away, but even the Bible says it isn’t good for man to be alone. How many more times do I have to let someone go? Why does this time hurt so much more? Why would I love someone that causes me nothing but the worst pain of my life? How do I accept this?

I have to.

Fortunately, I understand that the love and passion I felt is from within me. No one gives it to me or takes it away when they leave. Despite all that hurt and all my faults, at least I know the love is what makes me - me. I wish my journey was easier. I wish I would just meet someone that wanted the same things and spare me all this trial and error. I know no one or relationship will ever be able to do this for me, but the only way to heal is to accept where I’m at and set myself free for a change.