So, some rather surprising news.
I think I may have a crush.
I don’t think anything will come of it but it does mark a significant day. The day I had a breakthrough. The day that I realised that I may finally be over (or almost) Mr X.
I have not felt such butterflies in my stomach since about April of 2008 and I was beginning to despair that I would never feel them again. But I did- yesterday.
I went out on Saturday night with a girlfriend and as we lamented our respective man-troubles, I realised that though I only received the bad news 2 or 3 weeks ago, it didn’t seem to bother me anymore. Nor am I really thinking about him. This surprised me, I felt sure that news such as that would floor me for months but I found myself saying to my girlfriend “I’m strangely not that upset about it anymore”.
I think she missed the significance of that statement but as I uttered it, I didn’t.
I felt nervous, as though I was losing a security blanket. For years now I have hidden behind this veil of pain, as though being miserable was my comfort zone. Giddy happiness was a state that, though achievable in bursts, was not able to be maintained for any length of time. It was unsettling to ever think I could be happy without Mr X, because for so long I had defined my level of happiness by whether he was in- or out- of my life.
And so it was on Saturday evening that I realised that I am happy. It’s just a different kind of happy. It’s a calm happy that comes from just reflecting on how far I’ve come, what I have managed to achieve for myself even though I thought I was broken on the inside. Though I was loathe to have my reverie interrupted to engage in a conversation with yet another 50-something year old man standing next to me (who then mistook my polite conversation to mean something entirely different -and I might add- inappropriate), I did so because I realised that I don’t have to limit my conversation to only men who I might be interested in or attracted to, different people can make you happy in different ways, and who am I to judge on face value whether or not they are worthy of my time?
Strange then, that just as I was still becoming comfortable with this new revelation of my state of happiness and well-being, I went to work yesterday, less than 48 hours after my epiphany, and was bowled over from left field by feelings that I had not had for a long time. Attraction. Real attraction. The lose-your-appetite-because-your stomach-is-doing-flip-flops type of attraction.
Don’t get me wrong, M (whom I dated for 10 months after Mr X) was no waste of my time, but he never gave me butterflies, he never made me nervous. Possibly, we were so well matched that way. I loved him and from the very beginning our relationship was one built on solid familiarity. Familiarity arising from an inherent recognition that: We were the same. The only problem is we weren’t the same when it came to timing I don’t think I want someone who is the same as me. I want that flutter of excitement, I want to not be able to predict everything he says or does.
I don’t think there is anything wrong with that, provided said person is also capable of loving me and treating me equally as well as I am motivated to treat them.
I have no idea what this man’s circumstances are, for all I know he is married with children. But whether or not he is available is irrelevant. (I mean of course that whether something develops is comparatively unimportant-I would never pursue or attempt to be with someone who was not available).
The real source of the spring in my step today is knowing that I am capable of feeling this way again.
Yes world, I have arrived at the end of the tunnel and there is indeed, light!
So, I’m just going to go about my day quietly appreciating that.
And I may, or may not be grinning like an idiot from time to time.