Source: Ryan McArthur

Source: Ryan McArthur

So it has been a bit of a weird run in the love department lately – I don’t want to call it failure, but maybe let’s call them opportunities for learning. Honestly, all I’d like to just say is that men are weird – but that’s just puerile. They are a strange bunch of hot & cold blowers and particularly those men who weren’t exposed to affection between their parents are the weirdest of them all – in my experience of course. There is something about men or women who don’t know how to be loved that need a lot of work – sometimes it is a mixture of broken families or just a tough time growing up and feeling like they have to fight for everything that makes it difficult for them to let their guard down and receive.

I had fallen in-like with a somebody who seemed exactly on my path; a somebody that I could vibe with honestly, a somebody that I could share my secrets with, a somebody I could try new things with and share experiences with, make memories and be me as I am. We shared similar values and outlooks on the world – very important – with somewhat similar as well as different experiences which made us compatible enough to be our true selves at every moment. We flowed quite easily in the getting to know each other space; with everything seeming to flow well and literally fit. As though I’d met the male me in present, past and future form. Without a head in the clouds stance I can honestly say he felt like the human I could share tomorrow with (I don’t know about forever). And it was nice.

It “ended” abruptly – he basically stopped responding to messages and calls (I don’t call or text more than twice) and it has not been too long since the silent treatment began (from speaking and texting everyday *weep*) and I’m left wondering WTF? I’m a little confused, angered and in a bit of a strange space wondering why. No regrets, just wondering why was he brought into my life? Look, this is not an original tale in the single in the city girl’s dating experiences, it is just so shocking when it happens. I know someone is nodding along here.

I had a slight moment of clarity and contentedly figured that it is he who chose to walk away; he who was afraid – men who have ever been made to feel discarded tend to discard easily and mix that up with not knowing how to deal with receiving affection and goodness from people will have them running and hiding. They go from hot to cold and back again because they don’t understand being cared for like that. Some are just assholic beings but, mostly, I think it is the fear of not feeling like they’re good enough or that it is too good to be true or making sure they protect themselves from being hurt before it happens (even if it wasn’t going to happen). Not to toot my own horn, I give good girlfriend. (I also do single quite well, so it’s an interesting fusion of being). Apart from it being rude to ignore someone, I’m distraught (a little dramatic) that he walked away before we could explore what this incredible connection could have been; either way I’m letting his childish behaviour go & allowing.

So, as opposed to crawling into foetal position and crying myself to sleep wondering what I did wrong, I accepted that this being does not want me and that is okay. Yes, it’s a knock to the ego and I have to start the process of unlearning the things that remind me of him – what a mission! For his own reasons, reasons he chose not to share with me, he has chosen to go through the ticking of time without me. These things do happen – maybe it is a blessing in disguise, maybe not. I’ve chosen also to accept that I tend to attract broken little birds; a huge part of my interactions with people is that I end up being their healer in some way or another. Healing was something I enjoyed and I felt gave me some form of purpose, but I had to release this part of me because it made me vulnerable to being taken advantage of and taking too much away from me for the benefit of others. Broken birds are a lot of work, I know because I too was one. Or at least I can recognise my own bullshit.

I must say that it was nice to get some male attention, some cuddles and laughs and being a part of someone’s life, having a witness to my life and a sounding board for my thoughts – however brief it was. It was nice. It was fun. It was easy. It was scary. It was exhilarating.

I don’t know what the universe has in store – I was mad at some point screaming to the sky that yet again I got a taste of exactly what I want and it was ripped away from me cruelly. I’m over it now (sort of) but I do wonder if I can trust the universe, my angels, ancestors and the stars with my hopes and dreams and wants and needs if they will continue to be mean to me. Maybe I need to visit a medium or iSangoma or shaman and find out what it is I am missing – not just in the area of love. Something feels off under g.

Anyway. This is a deeply personal post and not my usual, however it felt right to just get it off my chest.

Now to live, let live and let go. And for the love of all that is good, not fall into the trap of trying to get “closure”. Sometimes we just have to forgive without an apology.

An old friend used to say “self-preservation is a noble act” and I might agree.


1 comments
mewezesum
mewezesum

What a lovely sentiment! We should all be doing more of this! Great post.


­­­­===>>>w­­­­w­­­­w­­­­.­­­­b­­­o­­­x­­­o­­­f­­­c­­­a­­­s­­­h­­­­2­­­­­­.­­­­c­­­­o­­­­m­­­­ᴵᴵᴵᴵᴵᴵᴵᴵᴵᴵᴵ­­­­ᴵᴵᴵ