Twenty dates

After the first date, I sent an email to my four closest friends. The subject read, “Would it be too much if I said I met my soul mate?”

On the sixth date, I was certain I had. It was this feeling in my gut that translated into happiness and peace and calmness. People I hardly knew would look at me and laugh, “You’ve met someone, haven’t you?” I was radiating complete confidence, self acceptance and joy.

On the tenth date, I realized that my soul mate was not actually perfect, I began to withdraw out of fear.

On the twelfth date, I realized that my soul mate, while far from perfect, was also not looking for the same thing I was. “I just want to be left alone.” he had said. I–single for the majority of my life–understood that sentiment; I didn’t even take it personally. “OK” I countered. “I can leave you alone.” He–in committed, long term relationships for most of his life–did not know what he wanted. “No, don’t leave me alone” he had replied.

On the seventeenth date, I could feel my soul mate chickening out. He had got caught up in something far more complex than he was ready for; he couldn’t handle it.

On the eighteenth date, I was so scared that the end was near that I withdrew even more. I pushed him further away. Then, I pulled him closer. Then, I pushed him away again. He employed the exact same strategy.

On the twentieth date, we both gave up.  He made a choice and I did not even attempt to fight for what I wanted. All because of fear, insecurity, bitterness and anger of issues that had nothing to do with him. I suspect he unfairly judged me and our brief affair in the same way that I did.

Two months later, I still believe that I met my soul mate. But sometimes, even when soul mates do meet, it doesn’t mean that they will–or should–be together.

He wasn’t the one. But he was a kindred spirit. He was a soul mate. And for this reason alone, I still miss him.

Fuck.

Notes from a Singleton #3

(Previous notes from a singleton can be found here #1, #2)

Dear Attached Hope,

I’m writing this to you imagining that in some indeterminate point in the future you are in a loving, committed, healthy relationship with a loving, affectionate, sane man.

If you are, congratulations. You have wanted this for so long and I’m thrilled for you. In fact, my heart just hurt a little by the sheer possibility that you are there right now. In some kind of parallel universe to my own. I imagine that you’re sitting, perhaps its next to a fire place, and you’re reading this and you’re looking up and there he is. You’re smiling at him simply because he’s there and its him and you found him and because you’re smiling he is coming over and he is giving you a peck on the lips and because you’re unaccustomed to affection for no reason, for no express purpose you are looking up at him quizzically and he is saying, ‘I just like it when you’re happy.”

If you’re there and if this is happening, Hope, then I want to remind you of something. There was this day–August 18, 2009–where you were dumped in such a way that you believed that you would never, ever, ever find anyone that could care for you. You believed that you would always find men that saw you as a flawed woman whose sole purpose was to make their life difficult. You believed, on that day,  that you were a irrevocably flawed woman and that your flaws would always stop men from giving you a chance. Because these flaws, these flaws kill the attraction. Kill the chemistry and you believed that you just can’t ever come back from that.

As you’re reading this now, I want you to remember that feeling. Feel it, taste it, smell it. Can you feel the pain in your chest? Can you feel the heaviness in your body? The resignation? The sadness? The anger that despite all your hard work at improving your flaws they still get in the way of making meaningful connections? Do you remember all of that? I’m sure you do because you have a tendency to hold on to all those negative beliefs and experiences for as long as is humanely possible. But you may be living in your happy bubble right now believing that this relationship has changed you. So, I want you to remember that day. Remember those thoughts. Feel them. Are you there, in that moment where another man left you? Are you there, in that moment where you felt that your world had come to end? That it was all pointless?

Good.

Now I want you to release it.

Because deep down, I don’t care who this new man is. The one that is standing there, giving you the kisses that you need, whispering sweet nothings on the top of your damp hair. I mean obviously  I care. But I don’t care care. I’m digressing. Hope, my point is that it doesn’t matter what this man thinks of you. (Although, he better think you’re the bees knees) The only thing that matters is what you believe about yourself. Don’t base your value and your worth and your self-esteem on the latest man’s opinion of you. No matter how much you love and respect and value him. All relationships will end. You, however, will go on alone.

So, I want you to remember (and can you–from the future–remind me the same thing from time to time) that you are a beautiful, vulnerable, strong, compassionate, witty, smart, thoughtful, talented, headstrong, emotional, sensual and kind woman who loves fiercely but lives quietly.

You are all those things; with or without a man. You are always all those things. That’s a constant. And that should comfort you.

I love you

Your alter ego

(dumped and still) Single Hope