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I’m worried about you.

All of us are, some of us have even tried to tell you, maybe the wrong way, maybe not in the best of atmospheres, and you keep retracting, you keep neglecting, you keep all of us out. I can’t believe I could be any different. I can’t believe you would let me in, just because you forced your way into me.

But I keep thinking I have to do something about this. We all see the problem, but none of us know how to convince you to look it in the eyes, once and for all, before it eats you away.

You are too much to waste away like this, there is a universe inside you that can’t go to waste, you can’t annihilate everything you could be like this. You are playing with fire and you will end up imploding or exploding one day and then it will inevitably be too late. You have no idea how hard you could fall, your life is at stake in this and you just won’t contemplate that option.

You are so preoccupied with controlling everything, you can’t see how it is all slipping away. You keep imposing your rules, you keep boxing up everything you see and ignoring everything that doesn’t fit your schemes, when all you should do is giving it a chance.

You have no idea how much you mean to me and how much I selflessly love you and I wish I could do just half of what I wish to make your life a little better. I hate seeing you no longer smiling as you used to but avoiding any contact with the reality of facts won’t help you in the least.

I am no one here, I don’t belong in your life, I don’t know anything about your past, but I know who you are now, whether you like it or not, and it kills  me to see you so negligent.

I don’t know how to close this gap between us, you may very well never allow it no matter how hard I try, you will probably push me away as soon as I take a step towards you and I understand how it’s easier to look away, but I can’t let you do that. Because I know what it feels like and I know how you’ll end up and I can’t let that happen.

There is no way I can do this without it becoming excessively weird, but I’m thinking maybe I should do it anyway. There is too much at stake, maybe I should just muster up the courage and write you an email. A letter, just like I used to when I was 12.

You would never look me in the eye again, I would never have the guts to approach the subject and we’ll both pretend it never happened, but at least you would know. At least I could convey to you everything I need to tell you, everything you need to know. And maybe nothing would change, maybe you’ll discard it as a mad woman’s rambling but if there was a remote chance that it could hit the right nerve, it would be worth it.

I will never have you and that’s ok, but please have yourself, live the life you want, not the one that others imposed on you, please break your schemes and decide what’s best for you, for your heart, for your soul and your peace of mind.

Please start taking what the whole world is ready to give you, please open up just a little and start trusting, start feeling alive, start interacting and being influenced. Reject the perfect cover you want to wear at all costs, it won’t do you any good, you are hiding behind it for fear of finding your own way, but it will suffocate you, it will drive away all the passion, all the love and the sensitivity you have.

Please don’t let it, please step out of this, please break your shell, please break free.

The house is emptying.

First it was the boxes full of newly Amazon ordered stuff, then a few kitchen appliances, then clothes and toileteries. It feels different. It doesn’t look like my house anymore, it looks like something is missing.

Indeed, what it isn’t anymore is our house, and what it officially is is my house. I need to get used to the voids, used to the order and cleanliness that were never there before. I need to take the time to rearrange it as my place.

I slept alone tonight. It wasn’t frightening, his physical presence was the one thing I didn’t really miss. It’s the stuff, the change I see in the environment around me.

The first weekend alone in the house. The first full day of loneliness. It’s so hard I can hardly breath.

I went out with Maddie last night, we went clubbing to a place near her home, in the hope of finding someone she used to know and reconnecting to old acquaintances. That obviously didn’t happen, plus it was one of the hardest nights so far. I realised how hard it’s going to be to meet someone new, to make new friends, especially with no money or little time.

I hate clubbing. I hate the fact that the music is so loud that you can’t even talk, I hate the fact that you can’t see around because of the lights, I hate the fact that people is supposed to go clubbing to meet new people and you end up even sadder and lonelier once the night doesn’t turn out the way you hoped.

At the same time, I really don’t have the money right now to do any other thing that could bring me to meet people. Any course I might enrol in costs more than I have, if I want to go to New York to Sabrina and I just can’t fathom what would be best in the long run.

Luckily at least, we ended the night talking in Maddie’s car in front of her house as I used to do when I was 18 with Faith. That’s one thing that can always make me feel good. Apart from when she made me realise how wrong it is to rely so much upon a partner as I need to.

I see the two sides of this thing. I know how wrong my attitude could be, because, as she says, you can’t really trust men. But on the other side, you just can’t try to build a serious and deep relationship without relying on them and trusting them fully.

I understand the way my heart functions, I understand and I see that I can’t connect to friends the way I connect to a partner. I know it shouldn’t be like this, that I should learn to rely on other relationships as well and that this is how I felt in the beginning of my awakening. I don’t know if I lost it because it was all a lie or because of the grief I’m feeling right now. I don’t know how much of what I am feeling is normal and to be expected or if it’s my issues.

I feel lonely because I am missing all the feelings I used to have inside. There is a hole there now, instead of what was filling it and I have no idea of how I am ever going to be able to fill it if not with the same kind of feelings. This is why I feel the need to love again so much.

I miss the way it made me feel. The safety, the tranquility. And I wonder how much of that feeling was granted by the mere fact that there was love and companionship or how much it was my husband as a person to grant me that. As long as I can’t change the fact that I need to have a partner to feel whole, I have to wonder whether any person I am in love with could do or if different characters may not give me what I need. I am for the first time wondering if there was more to our relationship than I can see.

But then again, I don’t know if it’s the grief talking or the truth. When I feel well, when optimism can break through I feel hope and I feel like everything is going to be ok, but when I’m not all I can think about is being with him, calling him, seeking help with him. If I need to rely on a man so much, shouldn’t I be with someone I can trust completely?

Will time be enough to heal or will be difficult as it has ever been?

I don’t know what to expect. I’m feeling so bad that I can’t figure out how I’m ever going to feel better than this. It feels like it’s going to be like this forever. And probably it won’t, anybody would tell me it’s going to go away, but the truth is I don’t know that. I have never gone through this sort of break up, I have no idea if I’ll ever work this out or if I’ll just end up being frustrated and angry with life just like I was before.

Maddie came to my house yesterday. Maddie was telling me about how scared she is at the idea of never finding someone else to spend her life with. Maddie who spent the same weekend when I was practicing for my first competition sleeping with Coach. Maddie who was chosen by Coach amongst dozens of other women. Maddie at least realises that she was lucky.

I couldn’t really answer to that. Not honestly, not fully, not constructively.

Maddie is blind. It takes her ages to understand the reality of things, to accept her feelings, she is insecure and feels weak, but she is the lucky one. If she weren’t that blind, she would see how all her venting is completely useless, because she got her second chance days after she broke up, how she is the one who has spent years with several boyfriends and she spent time alone only when she wanted to. She might have a tendency to want what she has, but it seems to me she got what she wanted anyway.

Can I feel sorry for myself for a minute? I am the one who fought kicking and biting to gain a little confidence, I am the one who took a leap of faith believing I could have more, I could be liked, I could get what I want and in the end I am the one who was turned down. Twice.
Twice again I am the one who can’t get what she wants, twice again I am the one who must say “bad luck”, twice again people changed their mind about me, twice again I am the one who was left behind because they chose somebody else. Twice again I am left wondering what is wrong with me and really now, who is supposed to be afraid of never finding anybody else to spend their life with? I wasn’t but evidently I should be.

“It’s normal, it happens, it’s life”. Bullshit.

And I am the one who knows very well what she wants and what she needs, and the more I go on, the more I believe there is absolutely no use in wanting something you don’t already have, because it’s not like you’re going to get it anyway. I broke up after years with this concept of trying to be grateful and content with what I have only to find myself looking at my life and realising that any time I have wanted things I have never been happy but when I settled at least I wasn’t crying. Why did I ever start believing I have a right to get what I want? Why did ever the possibility of having what I want present itself?

Years ago, before finishing college, I lived in this apartment where there were no hard doors, just curtains hanging from the door frames. One night, my housemate’s sister came over to bake a cake, since she had no oven at home. It was pretty late and I was already in bed, but not yet sleeping. After a while, my room was filled with the most provoking and inviting chocolate smell. I was starving and craving. But the cake wasn’t for us and couldn’t be eaten nor tasted. I spent hours tossing and turning, cursing everything, because the smell just wouldn’t go away.

This is exactly how I feel, as if I had been tempted with something I cannot have, conned. And it’s wrong, but somehow I blame this on Coach. He was the chocolate smell, which reached and flooded my nostrils, but then someone took the cake away. That night I would have never wanted cake if that smell hadn’t filled my room. I am not saying I would still be in love with my husband if I had never met him, but if I hadn’t thought he liked me, maybe I wouldn’t have convinced myself the guys I want may actually ever want me back.

Maddie thinks she is ugly and fat and in need of high maintenance to be presentable, but Coach bought the whole thing. I think I’m cute, fit and fun but I am always the only one sure of that.

It’s basically like any competition. The important thing is never to participate, it’s always to win. Whoever might say the opposite is typically a loser. So case in point, it’s ok to lose if you didn’t give your 100%, but what happens when you put everything into your dragon and you still don’t get to step on the podium? You think it doesn’t matter how much you fight, it’s never going to be enough, you’re just not good enough, it’s not for you.

That’s when you would want to be stunning, that’s why beauty is never enough; I can feel as hot as ever, but the mirror shows what I am, not what I feel, and that’s what people see. And trust me, I don’t think beauty is everything and I am absolutely sure it’s not enough to keep a man, but sure as hell it gives a great hand in convincing him to want to be with you in the first place.

Optimists in my situation would be content with knowing that they will surely meet someone better, divas would say men don’t know what they’re missing and they don’t deserve you. I still think there’s something I am missing in all of this, something I’m doing wrong, because taste is taste, but I don’t get why someone else should be chosen when I’m hotter, smarter and younger, by the by.

Plus I just can’t fathom why these things don’t work both ways. I like different kinds of people, but not so different in the end, they all tend to have at least a common basis. I fish in a category of people where I think I belong too. And it’s not that many of us in the world. If I am that kind of person and look for my kind of person, why don’t they? Am I that low on the ranking?

I am tired, sleep deprived and still stressed from the competition, but I am really pissed off at the world. I have been pissed ever since the competition. It’s not that I didn’t win, albeit that didn’t help, it was because for the first time I was upset because of Maddie. I am not jealous of what they do behind closed doors, but having her around all the time prevented me from having the little more intimacy I needed with him in such a hustle. It’s not like I was planning to make a pass at him or anything, but it was me and him, it was our moment and I needed to be close to him, to hug him, to connect with him… and I couldn’t. And I took it out on him, of all people, and I haven’t had the guts or the chance to apologise properly for this and it’s killing me. And he knows and understands that I was nervous for the competition but that was not it.

“It” is that somehow he can touch me so deep in my soul that I can’t control my reactions. I feel this urge to eliminate the distance between us but at the same time there is some invisible shield around him pushing me away. I have no time and no occasion to build anything resembling a contact between us which could embrace a little more than this teacher/student relationship. We are getting closer, but there seems to be always a barrier, as if none of us could figure out how to handle the other. He keeps hinting at the fact that he knows me and every time he does I can never step up and use it as bait because I am too shocked to react properly.

I realised while I was away for the competition that I’ve been doing this twisted thing with Maddie, I see it much more clearly now than when Hector was around: I try to influence her on how to treat him, no that’s not quite it… I would never give her bad advice just to have him for myself, but I try to soften her ways to prevent her from hurting him or tell her what I think he would appreciate in a given circumstance. I was the one to suggest she should bring him chocolates, I tell her how to approach difficult subjects in a way not to make him run, I defend him and let her see his probable point of view on things when she clearly doesn’t understand what’s going on. I try to protect him and his interests. I don’t think I have ever reached the same level of stupidity in any other circumstance of my existence.

Still, it’s the only thing I can actively do for him, although I wish I could do much more. We were out to dinner with the whole team yesterday and Dave told him how he would like him to step out of the conventional schemes and try to taste the world and its different colours before choosing one straight path ahead and I couldn’t agree more with him. He looks trapped in a cocoon that doesn’t allow him to gain his own shape, while having all of the means to transform into its own unique being. I wish I could give him all the knowledge I have earned to ease him out of this state because he reminds me of me. I understand so well what it means to cover everything under the surface and strike a pose and all I would want to do is crack the surface and look in. And every time he does exactly that with me, consciously or not, he kills me.

There is no doubt on the fact that I am in pain. I should rejoice there is at least this certainty in my life right now. Of course, I do not rejoice about pain, even if it’s healthy, even if it meant I am healing, like a itchy crust.

Because I don’t feel like it’s taking me anywhere. I might use it to lift myself up and grow further, but as it is, it feels useless and static.

This post tells a very important truth about pain: just like karma imbalances, pain is there to let you know something is wrong. I completely agree with that and this definition fits perfectly for sorrow as well. Only, in my case, it’s not that easy to understand the source of the pain. Of course, there is the pain connected to the separation, but there is also the pain related to the poor status of my mind – or soul, or spirit. Understanding which has to be fixed in order to get rid of the pain is a challenge.

I was seriously wondering yesterday if I’d have gone all the way with the separation, had I know what it entailed in terms of suffering and uncertainty. The point, 6 months ago, was that I felt great. For the first time in my life I felt optimistic, full of hope, strong and confident. All of that is past now, none of it fuels me anymore, or rather all of it turned to its opposite, dragging me down in an even worse state than before I was illuminated.

I am back to the state I was in three years ago, when I started my therapy.

I keep wondering whether that sprout of optimism wasn’t completely crazy instead, totally otherworldly. I don’t see second chances, I don’t see a bright future, that enables you to fight the difficulties ahead for the sake of its arrival, I don’t see myself better off without my husband. Of course the situation got so unbearable at home, there is really no other way now than catching our breath on our own for a while.

What if I keep misjudging which part of me I have to mend in order to be free of the pain? All of this introspection I think I need comes from the necessity to clear at least partly all the confusion in my head and heart. I always fear I won’t be able to understand what I really want, because of all the noise my mental issues create around my true feelings. How do I understand how much I care for someone, if the fear of being alone fills up all the rest? How will I know when to fight for someone, if my pessimism is always telling me to let go? How do I make life changing decisions if I don’t believe in myself enough to be sure to overcome any difficulty?

I am also barely able to withstand all the pressure around. I can’t concentrate on work, I can’t bear for more than 5 split seconds all the things I regularly hate of my job, I can’t stand the fact that I can’t find another one, that I need the money more than ever, that there is no way I can get a leave of absence when all I’d rather do would actually be checking myself in at the nearest asylum and stay there free from external influences until…

And “there falls the donkey”, as the Italians would say, there’s the rub. I’m starting to believe that there will never be a time when I’ll be healed. I will have to live with this wounded mind for the rest of my days like a cancer patient: at times I will need treatment, at times the tumor will still be there but it won’t bother me much, and with time who knows, it may recede spontaneously… or metastasize.

Maybe it’s ok, maybe it’s just the way I am and I will have to learn to live with this, but I can’t let it spoil all of my decisions, I can’t end up a wreck like this every time I go through hard times. Hard times are hard on their own, I don’t want to add to it.

The separation is what brought on the crisis, so it’s only natural to think that if I get back with him, part of the pain will go away. But the problems would stay. I could ditch Hector and Kolya, leave Coach behind once and for all and close my online dating profiles. I still couldn’t refrain from eyeing the cute passers-by. I still couldn’t start liking him the way I used to, because I just don’t like him that way anymore. He is an anchor, he is a life raft, he is a handhold, but he is not my lover anymore and I can’t force myself into believing anything different. I guess, he is the closest thing to a functional family I have. I love him in a way, I trust him, I feel somewhat safer around him. But I can’t see him as my partner anymore. I only very much wish I could.

Sometimes I wonder what would be best.

I am trying to make a point of being who I want to be, following my own rules and moral values, as petty as they might be. Often, though, I find these hypothetical rules clash with what is “proper”.

There are so many unwritten rules in dating: no sex before the third date, no asking a guy out if you’re a girl, no answering texts straight away, no letting a guy know how much you like him. I understand that strategy works, in love just as much as in war. Still, I think it’s fake.

I read two posts recently, both got me thinking and nodding, both tend to go openly against the rules above:

Which side is right?

If I have to think about my own experience, I tend to be able to pretend and stategise only when I don’t really care about the guy. If I do, spontaneity tends to get the better of it.

I guess, most of it has to do with what kind of person you are dealing with. There are people who love the chase, hunters interested in the game much more than the prey itself. Like Maddie. And then there are people who care from the start about what’s real, true feelings, sincerity and affection. Like me. We do not like people who play games, because we can’t fight on equal terms and we feel fooled; they most probably don’t like us because we are easy and boring.

But right at the beginning of all approaches, is it possible to tell to which category our counterpart belongs to?

Even when “true” people get together, it’s always extremely difficult to stick to what’s proper. When you don’t know what kind the other is, it’s a nightmare. Not knowing what the other person thinks of us causes the worst disarray and there is no way we are ever sure what we’re supposed to do.

In a perfect world, where things always go in the best of ways and assholes do not exist, what someone like me would like to do is breaking every single rule: I would kiss on my first date, possibly sleep with them on the same night if I wanted to, tell them how much I like them in the same exact moment as I realise it myself and thank them there and then for being a wonderful creature.

That is not proper.

It’s utterly unacceptable. While I have put into practice the first two, because in some way they can be accepted – and not always with tragic results I would add – the last two are unthinkable.

For the simple reason that there is always the possibility out there lurking that he might only be fooling you around. Now that is possibly the single most unacceptable and improper thing to do in our times: be fooled. It’s the biggest disgrace of all. It deserves the scarlet letter. You must always be prepared and never let your guard down, or you will be dishonoured.

I most honestly wonder why that is. Of course, when it happens you end up hurting beyond comprehension. But the reaction you get from the general population is that you made a fool of yourself. Now, wait a minute. I wouldn’t be the one doing something wrong. If right and wrong still exist, as small and scared as they might be, someone must recognise that we wouldn’t be the bad guys, nor the stupid guys, nor the shallow guys. We would not make a fool of ourselves, we would be fooled. Victims. Undefiled, I might add.

The thing that mostly makes me wonder is when I think of how it would make me feel to hear the same thing said to me. It would sweep me off my feet. I’m outrageously romantic, I know. And in the end, if we feel that way about someone it shouldn’t matter if we wait and let them know some other watered-down way. Or should it?

If we knew that we could trigger this reaction in that special someone, would we pass on it? Should we? Is it possible that we actually do some damage by being proper? How do we recognise someone as special, doesn’t it happen when they cross the line? What would it say about us if we were ready to long-jump across that line?

It would scare the hell away the vastest majority of people.

Imagine all the guys you want to date on a line, in the middle of the desert, like where they do tests on super fast cars. Imagine them one beside each other, all facing you, with the sun in their eyes and the wind ruffling their hair and shirts. Imagine yourself on the opposite side, a line drawn with a stick in the dry earth in front of you. You look at each other straight in the eyes High-Noon style. You start running toward the line and make that jump. You land on your feet and you still stare at them when they decide, cold sweating, to turn and run for their lives. Imagine seeing the dust raised by their feet settle and starting to outline the shape of just one of them who didn’t even flinch.

That’s the guy you want.

I guess I should be happy and relieved to see that the last time I fell prey to anxiety was in November. When I opened the editor this time I needed a way out very badly, and I remembered I had done this already, writing to take the edge off, so I went to check when it was. I suspected it could be a few weeks ago, seeing it was more than three months ago did make me feel relieved.

Anxiety has a way of distorting everything: space, time, feelings, rationality, everything. All you need to do is calm down, but you just can’t reason, you can’t take the spinning things in your hand to stop them, you just keep spinning. When you finally do calm down, you are so exhausted you don’t even remember what got you spinning.

I know what did, just now, because it’s not gone altogether. It’s something Hector told me, about living alone. Understanding the causes is easy: it can be anything really, in this case I’m tired, I am in a difficult phase of my life, I am all shaken up by the fact that I met someone I really like… it’s everything, but it doesn’t matter.

The fact is, up until now and now still, my reaction is giving in to anxiety. It’s probably just like stating the obvious, but I can’t control it. The fact is, up until now I’ve had my husband to turn to whenever anxiety pulled my strings, now I won’t have that anymore. And no, I don’t think it’s enough to stay with him, because yesterday I tried again, to be with him when I was in the middle of a crisis, and it’s just not the same anymore. True enough, we can’t be close now as we used to be when we were a couple, but it’s slightly more than that: I was talking about what scared me and he just didn’t answer accordingly, he thought about his anxiety. It was as good as talking to a wall, with the difference that when you talk to the wall, you know you can’t expect an answer.

The fact is, I am ashamed of my anxiety. More than any other thing in myself. If I make an effort, I can decide to let out parts of my feelings and thoughts which I usually keep within, when the time is right, when the listener is right. I’ve learnt to do that. But I still can’t think of calling anyone when I’m in the middle of an anxiety attack. Maybe I could talk to Faith, because she knows the topic so well, she wouldn’t be taken aback, but my first reaction is wanting to hide from the world.

Anxiety is something so private that I can think of partly letting it out only with someone I share an extremely deep bond with and I can rarely think of someone else rather than my partner. Which means, I don’t like calling my parents or my sister either when that happens. In this sense, now I need to face it all by myself. And this scares the shit out of me.

How do people do it? They say, anxiety is basically the most widespread condition af all in developed countries, I guess I can’t be the only one. How do the others do it? Do they keep it for themselves, do they use massive doses of drugs – either legal or illegal – do they talk to someone and if so to whom? I need a plan.

It won’t be this bad every single day, it’s going to swing back and forth and from what I’ve seen in the past few weeks, it can be good, it can be better than it used to be before I even met my husband. But the lack of a plan in case of need automatically alarms me enough to make me anxious. It’s a vicious circle and the only way to step out of it is finding a cause and working on the solution.

I realise I am tackling a fundamental problem here, when I say some things I can share only with a partner. But I still don’t know how to work around it. On the one hand, it’s wrong to charge a relationship with such a burden. On the other, I am human and as such I must accept the fact that I need other people and human relations to survive. Is it unrealistic for me to expect I should learn to count only on myself? Of course I need friends, I need social interactions, but should I learn to cope with “the serious stuff” by myself or should I rather learn to split the burden with someone else? And if not a partner, with whom?

I have deeply suffered the lack of a profound communication with my husband, probably exactly because of this. Because I expected him to be the one who should act as a repository for these troubles and in fact he no longer was it and because I hadn’t trained myself to do it with anybody else. Throughout my relationship with him, I managed to distance myself from my parents, in a way. This may sound like a very bad thing, truth is it’s not, not given the relationship we have and the kind of people they are. I am happy to be independent from them, or rather, from my mother. The problem with it is, I suppose I managed that because I had just created a family of my own on the other side. Once that broke too, I am completely on my own.

I suppose, my situation is different from that of the majority of people. I normally fear loneliness much more than others do and at the same time I have fewer resources to reduce my loneliness to a minimum. It’s the hard way, the one I always seem to choose, maybe the only one I know how to navigate. I have begged myself to cut me some slack, but I can’t seem to understand how I should do it. I agree that I don’t need to be perfect to be happy, on the contrary, it might make everything worse, but I can’t get out of the loop and act accordingly. I can’t make those necessary mistakes that would make me feel better. Or maybe I’m doing just right and can’t expect to always feel fine. Maybe this best I can do which I’m doing is really just enough and I can’t do any more.

I keep thinking about all the things Hector said. I can hardly find anything wrong with it, it seems such a wise way to go. I envy him and I would like to copy his ways. It seems to have worked out for him and I need a project so much, some path to follow to give me some hope that I will really get where I want to go… I understand how I tend to get excited pretty much about any guy I meet lately, and that it’s hard to believe this has more reasons to it than just the heat of the moment… but I really feel he could make a difference. But from his point of view, I could be completely wrong. If I want someone to lead me, why shouldn’t he want someone like that too? Why would he want to be with a wreck such as I am right now, someone who could lead him back in the depths instead of someone just happy to live and ready to give instead of taking? I am not sure how much I can give right now, not because I don’t want to, not because I don’t need to, just because… not because of me, because of him. I want and I need to share everything I learnt along the way and I suppose once I share everything with someone he will learn something from it, maybe something I don’t even recognise as a lesson worth giving. It’s just that what he could give me is so big that I don’t believe I could reciprocate that. And I may very well be wrong. If nothing else, because he might not be aware of all of this.

Again, this is why I say this is all psychobabble: all of this is just in my head and he may have well forgotten my name by now.

That’s what he is: spot on. And it’s scary, and the problem is that I am already anxious about it. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, I was supposed to be entering my slutty phase, my spring break, as Renée puts it.

Or maybe not.

It’s easy to say, I shouldn’t be thinking about it that much, that I should be taking things as they come. Easier said than done, my mind is the greatest architect of all times, when it comes to castles in the sky. I wanted an alternative to Coach and I got it. But then I’m scared again.

With Coach it was easy, in the end. They say, dating in your 30’s is harder because you have much more baggage with you, you can’t let go of past experiences, you have your disillusions, your failures, your armour to protect you which has thickened even more over the years. To me, it was exactly the opposite. I felt just reborn, I had a brand new point of view, I felt on top of the world strong with my new beginning and fresh-out-of-the-oven optimism. I felt like a teenager. So I just went with it, I didn’t care to be hurt, I didn’t care to be rejected, it was just a try, and I enjoyed having a chance. Now I have already started lining up the bricks for a new the wall.

Because I have been rejected once already, I would very much prefer to avoid it for the second time around.

It’s very different with Kolya (after the second date, they are not merely test subjects anymore…), because as much as I like being with him, I don’t like him that way. If there was nobody else, if it was one of those desperate times where anyone would do – and that’s a very bad thing to say – there could be something. I did look at him that way very closely last time. He is cute, but he is not sexy in the least. He is the Past, he is the kind of guy who would have been great before: smart, rational, dedicated to his career, mature but still crazy enough to enjoy life and pull some stunts every now and then… been there, done that, he would be the best way to go on exactly in the same life style I had with my husband. Safe, good, but not good enough, not now. Now, I need change.

Now I need sex, I need emotions, I need to explore that irrational side of me I have kept dormant for so long. I need someone who can understand change, who can understand mistakes and the need to focus elsewhere rather than on the mind.

When the OD sites asked for the kind of man I wanted to find, I never really answered, I only ever thought about it without writing it for everyone to see; mainly because lists are useless, and secondly because it doesn’t matter if people can identify themselves with those attributes, since they usually don’t really know themselves nearly enough and because I need to see it for myself anyway. But if I had had the time and the willingness to point out how he should be, it would have sounded like this:

smart but not a smartass, rational but hot-blooded, guided by his guts with a little help of his mind, aware of what he wants as much as of his insecurity, keen on laughing as much as on crying, not scared by the demons of the human soul, able to talk and to listen.

I would like someone who could guide me towards growing the new side of me. I know I am the only one who can develop it but I’d like the help or just someone I can share it with. This process of finding my own way to deal with life is probably the single thing that defines me as a person more than anything else. It is the main reason why everything has come so hard to me, why my life always seemed much more complicated and out of hand compared to anyone else’s. I can’t think of being with anyone who can’t understand this at least up to a certain point. Not now. Maybe 5 years from now, the whole process will be deposited and integrated in myself so much I will simply take it for granted, not even acknowledging it anymore. Right now, it’s the core of my being.

Maybe, probably, these are qualities pertaining a much more important figure than a spring break guy, but I haven’t really decided what I want right now. I keep swinging from the hot barista to the man of my dreams in a matter of seconds. Maybe I should leave the decision to fortune, because I can find a hundred hot baristas but maybe just one in a million right guys. Maybe I shouldn’t even be thinking about making a choice but just accepting what life brings. I just don’t care if I make a mistake when I believe in what I’m doing.

The general idea is that I shouldn’t be committing to a relationship right after the last one. I tend to agree, but if I feel someone can give me a lot, I am inclined to try and be with them anyway. I may be wrong and grow tired of the whole commitment thing in a few weeks, I’ll act upon it accordingly when I see fit. But as long as I know what I want or what I need and I decide to pursue it, I accept to stand corrected along the way, but I am going to do it anyway.

This is my problem with Kolya. I know so damn well I don’t believe in this and I hate pretending. Everybody tells me my priority is having something fun to do and being with people who make me feel good, but what if being true to myself and to whom I want to be is my priority right now?

I am the only one who knows what went on in my mind during this separation and I strongly believe it’s nothing anybody else has ever experienced, exactly because of my own personal way to deal with myself. So I don’t accept blindly what others tell me about how it’s going to unfold or what I’m supposed to do. I listen to every point of view but give nothing for granted. I want to make my own mistakes because some of them are not mistakes in  my mind, they are necessary transitions towards wisdom.

Of course, getting out of a relationship one should just have fun, have lots of meaningless sex, be slutty with right about anyone just for the sake of seducing strangers and all that. But what I lacked were feelings, what I missed the most was honest attraction to someone’s body and soul, what I realised for the first time is the existence of a positive side in every human being, what I understood is the kind of relationship I would want. I woke up so now I want to get up. If anything, I am sorry I MAY have met someone just right for this experiment just a little too early.

The first time I met him, I had a hunch, just and nothing more than a hunch. It was all guts. Now I have so much more evidence. Not everything was filled in yet, but a good portion is. What I knew the first time was just that talking came easy. I could say the same for Kolya, but not really. There was one fundamental difference: with Kolya, it was easy talking and laughing about things, past experiences, anecdotes, general things. It felt like talking to my oldest friend, which to me means having a good time and laughing away any current shit.

With him the easy part was getting deep, opening up, touching touchy subjects. It was a hunch then, it’s a certainty now. His journey has been similar to mine, change defined his life too, the conclusions or rather the current status that he has reached look very close to what I am aiming at. The means may be different, but the result is the same and that may make any exchange even more enriching. All this without considering the rest, which is not priority but it’s there.

I see the difference in this with Coach or Kolya. With Coach it was much more about giving. Maybe because he is younger, maybe because I saw in him the old me and wanted to teach him to “get better”, to blossom, probably as a means to give back what he is giving me teaching what he knows. I don’t know Kolya enough to know what he has to give, but I’m afraid that’s part of the problem.

I know he has something I want or rather, I know he has something to offer me that I would take very willingly, I just don’t know if I have anything to give him that he may be interested in. I’m afraid not to be enough, I’m afraid to be turned down. He is not perfect and I don’t think of him as the man of my life, just the man I’d need right now. I am transitioning so I don’t know how long I will need someone like him for, but right now he is spot on. And that makes it even harder to accept that I may not be what he needs now. I see a very high potential and the idea of giving it all up again, of yet another time not being enough is hard to take.

And then there is the chemistry. I can’t say I remember ever wanting to kiss someone so badly… unfortunately, as of now I have no way of knowing for sure if this is reciprocated or not. I have hunches, but it wouldn’t be the first time they turn out to be completely wrong. I am not used to dating, so everything looks confused and confusing to me. I am used to being extremely fast in these things, I don’t wait, I tend to throw myself at the guy as soon as I want to. Let’s not discuss whether it’s a good strategy or not, please, I’m just stating the facts here. So this time around, it’s not working like that. In my opinion, if nothing has happened by the second date, there’s something wrong. According to pretty much anybody else, it’s perfectly normal. I’m nervous anyway. Plus, spring coming up is not helping slowing down my hormones.

Call of duty to all inventors out there: when will you ever finally patent a mind switch that can turn off any unwanted thought?!