I’m sick. Both physically and emotionally.
Last week I came down with a nasty stomach bug contracted from a friends child whilst we were all away the weekend before. On Thursday it all came to a head and I had to retreat from my workplace and soon found myself huddled on a bathmat next to the toilet for the remainder of the afternoon/evening. This followed with a day of complete exhaustion and through which I slept (or tried to) from dawn until dusk (and then some). However, it also found me sobbing. A lot.
When you are too weak to stand vertical for more than 30 seconds you quickly discover there is no way to distract yourself from your own thoughts. I couldnt move, I barely had the energy to speak. My brain was trapped in a useless body for48 hours and it really wasnt a pleasant experience. I could not escape the barrage of thoughts by running or lifting weights or walking the dogs or scrubbing the oven. My brain had free reign to rehash everything that had ever gone right or wrong with Mr X and I, and I was powerless to stop it. And for all of my whining about how he never fought for me, I discovered during these long hours of physical stillness, that I could have- should have- fought a lot harder too. All of those times he was being evasive and said the couldnt catch up or talk because he was “tired”, I could have laid it on the table. I could have said “I love you, I want to be with you, can we please sort this out”, I could have asked him not to shut down on me, I could have shown up on his doorstep anyway and asked him to marry me.
But I didnt do any of these things. I was scared. Scared that such strong emotion would scare him off, make him run for the hills. I was scared he would reject me again. I was scared that doing all of this would result in me losing him.
I lost him anyway.
So, it was with a rather heavy heart that I showed up to meet The Brazilian on Saturday once I had more or less recovered, we had a nice afternoon, talking and walking around the city, but I now realised that I wanted nothing more from him than friendship. The following day we met up again but having only really “just” recovered and having taken myself for an ocean swim with a few friends that morning (minus wetsuit) in the freezing ocean, I was a little exhausted. My guard was down then, when after I had explained that I just want to be friends, he decided to grab me while we were standing in the street and kiss me. And with my guard down I was too slow to stop myself from recoiling and shoving him off me. Followed promptly by me blurting some kind of apology, racing over to my car, getting in and driving away, all before he really had time to react.
I did get an apologetic text and email later that day, which also stated that I need to decide what I want.
Well, truth be told, what I want I cant (and will now, never) have. And, like a distraught 5 year old child who’s balloon just popped, if I cant have that balloon, I dont want any balloon.
And so, despite the fact that The Brazilian is gorgeous, smart, funny and successful, I dont want him because he is not Mr X.
Ergo, I do not want any other man, either.
Consequently, I have deleted my online dating profiles.