So I admitted that this whole feeling of hurt and loss is not clearly identifiable and that it is composed of a core of heartbreak and a surrounding of older wounds. This mix makes it particularly difficult to identify the precise cause of sorrow and to quantify the dose of circumstantial heartbreak and of general emotional distress.

Maybe the wisest thing to do would be just to accept the pain and let it flow for as long as it needs until it is exhausted, instead of deconstructing it in atoms trying to understand it. But if I can’t understand the source of my pain, its reasons and its implications, how can I hope to overcome it?

Unfortunately, that’s not all. There is one more terrible effect to this fixation of trying to analyse every single drop of pain. When the analysis is extended to other emotional states other than pain, it’s pretty obvious that there is another aspect to it: I just cannot determine the source of my feelings, i.e. I can never know how much I really care for someone, if I have feelings for them, how deep they are.

How do I start and manage a relationship with someone if I can’t understand whether I love them for them or if other impulses lead me to believe what I am feeling is love while it’s really some other kind of need? How do I know if I like someone for how they are or if I like them just because they are available? Was my break-up with my husband really a step forward towards acknowledging what I really want or a step back to major uncertainty?

Once again, I feel like I am deceiving myself. I thought this was gone, I thought I had reached an indissoluble connection to myself, while I still can’t get a damn thing. One could argue why it is so important to understand, why I don’t just take what I feel for what it is without asking too many questions. The reason may probably be because once already I mistook my feelings and hid behind them, lingering in a relationship that wasn’t working and the idea of doing it again is terrifying.

I like Simon. Or do I?
Let me rephrase: Simon is in my life at this time, and has a pretty central position in it and in my daily thoughts.

I look at him objectively and see he is not handsome, definitely not a hottie as coach. Still, I feel attracted to him. Is this true attraction or I feel this way just because I needed attention and he was the only one who seemed to provide it? And if it’s the latter, how bad is it? Can it be reason enough to let it go further or should I just dismiss the whole thing? Should this sense of urgency to be with him be considered real interest or just need of attachment?

How will I ever be able to distinguish between feelings for someone and feelings triggered by someone?

I don’t know him enough to know whether we are really compatible, whether I like every aspect of him and his behaviour, we haven’t shared enough to say I have feelings for him. Then what is the rest? How fascinated am I by what he does and says and how much by his mere presence? Why do I hate so much the idea of losing him, when his absence would not make that much of a difference in my life? Why is the hope of a happy ending so important?

This I suppose is the same feeling that made me miss my husband when he wasn’t there but didn’t make me feel as happy as I expected when he would finally be back. The harsh reality of things is that I am starting to suspect that, although I have been head over heels dozens of times, I have never really loved. I am not sure I can.