Two Years

On or about this day two years ago, my heart was (figuratively) ripped out of my chest.  The love of my life said to me, "I feel like after six months I should know if I want to marry you.  And I don't know yet if I want to marry you, so let's break up."  Or something to that effect.  No amount of begging, pleading, crying, or even logic, would sway him.  I just couldn't believe that this relationship that, to me, was all that was good and the way a relationship should be, could seem so opposite to him.  That was the end, and thus began a complete teardown and rebuild of the thing known as ME.

I think I was in shock those first few weeks. I barely ate or slept, because I couldn't.  I lost twenty pounds (about 9 kilos) in two weeks.  I was wild-eyed and feverish, and I began and ended each day (plus several times in between) in tears.  There was a knot in my chest that hurt as though someone had punched a hole through me. I resorted to muscle relaxants to make it unclench so I could sleep.  (As an interesting aside, my mom has always said that men find me more attractive when I'm happy and smiling.  Well, I've never had more male attention in my life than in those few weeks.  I think, therefore, men prefer me when I'm vulnerable and weak, not when I'm strong and happy. But I digress.)  Long story short, I've never hurt so much in my life, and I think the faded memories of that time have kept me from getting seriously involved with anyone since then. I hate pain!

Around that time I started meeting with an awesome therapist, who I ended up seeing for more than a year, until I eventually moved to Thailand in October 2009.  Those first few weeks I went twice a week, and those visits were my lifeline to keeping my sanity.  As time passed, I started going weekly, then biweekly, then once every 3 weeks just to check in.  I'm so grateful that I took this important step to healing from the hurt, not just from that relationship, but from all the things in my past that had led me to this point.

In the end it took eight months to get over the hurt, anger, and disbelief of the end of that relationship.  It took several more months to get over the furious hatred and incredible disgust I felt anytime I thought of him.  (It didn't help that since we had everything in common, I saw him around Seattle often.  Including, yes, with another girl once.)  Would I talk to him now, if I saw him on the street?  I don't know...I feel that chapter of my life is closed now, and there would be no point to it.  I honestly don't care what he's doing right now, or who he's with.  I have no desire to tell him about my (totally awesome) life.

At the same time, I feel like I've peaked too soon.  I had the love of my life and it ended.  I've dated a few people since then, though not seriously, and nobody before or after him has fit with me so perfectly, in so many ways.  (Obviously, there were some flaws, namely that he couldn't tell me he had concerns about the relationship until the day he told me it was over!).  These days I very rarely feel the desire to get to know any man as more than a friend.  And the ones I do get to know have been largely unimpressive.  I frequently get variations of "I'm emotionally wounded/fresh out of a relationship/whatever, and I just can't have a relationship right now.  But can we still have sex?" (The answer is NO, by the way. Another part of getting old...I'm too tired to put up with that ;) In the last two years, no man has wanted to get to know ME and have a lasting relationship.  I don't know why, though I have some theories.  (My mother tells me her theories, which usually make me feel like crap.)  My moving to Thailand was my unspoken admission that I will never find love again, and I'm okay with that.  I want to enjoy my friends and my dog, and everything else that makes me happy.

All that aside, I've recently, reluctantly, reentered the dating pool, with someone who has been a friend for awhile, almost since I first moved here.  It's not going well so far.  Take the existing centuries-old differences between men and women, and throw in a helping of Thai-Western cultural differences (and there are a LOT), and see what you get.  It's confusing and frustrating, especially when the other person doesn't know what they want.  Oh wait, I guess it isn't any different than dating in the Western world after all. LOL! :)

Where I'm going with this sob story is: when Scott broke up with me two years ago, I thought it was going to destroy me. But what actually happened is I grew stronger and broadened my horizons. Most importantly, it set the wheels in motion for my eventual move around the world to my current home, Chiang Mai.  And I wouldn't trade the last eight months of my blissful life for anything.  This is truly the happiest I have ever been.  So I guess I have to say...

THANK YOU SCOTT FOR BREAKING UP WITH ME AND SETTING ME FREE! :)