It doesn’t help that it’s been a long three weeks. It doesn’t help next week is a long week. It doesn’t help that I’m living at home and my parents are apt to telling me how I’m living my life wrong. It doesn’t help that I haven’t had an actual girlfriend in two years and nine months? Give or take a few weeks.
I reached a point where I wanted to date again. I wanted to have a relationship. Women were put in front of me. One after another. It was intimidating. It was glorious. I hesitated, and then I went for it.
One door after another which I saw wide open. One door after another which slammed in my face.
It’s one of those days where you hit the point you want to curl up into a ball and cry. Your chest feels like someone’s doing something. I don’t know. The pain of loneliness, despair, and failure is strange to me, how it reaches into the left side of my chest, as if massaging, then creeps as a tingle down my left arm. It’s familiar to me, and in its way soothing. In the same way a few shots of whiskey are. But less burn with the heartache.
The only person there for me is in a situation where any dating advice feels hollow. Empty. I’m still the idiot who vents his dating issues, then gets frustrated.
Maybe that’s the lesson. Maybe the lesson isn’t dating isn’t going to happen. Maybe the lesson is take my feelings and bury them. Put them somewhere anonymous, and then bury it deep. It’s worked for almost three years. What’s another half century? Maybe it’s live by my advice. Maybe it’s get back to the mentality of dating only when I see a woman I could love or do love.
Ultimately I think I’m just being broken down for something. In the men’s group I’m in it’d be called a kairos moment. A moment of learning.
What I’m observing is I’m getting shot down. Repeatedly. Anyone I desire is out of reach by design or decision. Whenever I try to date them, I’m brought down hard. They aren’t bringing me down hard, don’t get me wrong. It just feels hard. Because almost three fucking years of being single. Also observing the onset of a panic attack. Today’s awesome.
Reflect. Why is this happening? Because I’m being tested or something. That’s what everyone says. I’m being tested. Every woman in front of me had red flags, but you reach a point where who cares? So patience. As Linda said, I’m waiting for the right one. I need to do a better job of waiting for her. And then I won’t get shot down repeatedly. And then I won’t have panic attacks. It’s been like two years since a panic attack.
Discuss. I mean, you’re all I’ve got guys. Here. I’m discussing.
Plan. I guess this is simple. I need to stow my feelings, I need to not be interested in women, I need to move on. Writing, working out, church. This is life. These will only disappoint me if I disappoint me. Which means I really need to write more. I’ve been a writing slacker.
Accountability. I don’t even know. I’ll figure someone out.
Act. I love these. Basically act is sit my ass down and wait. Well, I guess it’s also do writing, workouts, and church. But in the field that I’m actually trying to figure out, it’s sit your ass down.
Off to watch a movie just to get out of the house. Fun times.
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