Maybe staying forever single should be what I attain.

My separated wife talks about how happy she is with her married live-in boyfriend. All morality aside, she was also once so happy being with me that she married me. Even though you explain it to them repeatedly, certain people think life is puppies and rainbows. If its not an every bliss from waking til sleeping well, then it’s wrong for them. On to the next and maybe this time the honeymoon phase will last for decades. It’s not reality.

I went through prit near hell for for close to six months before I realized how much healing I had done. It’s been rough but this guys come out of some slimy junk. And then I started thinking hmm, I feel like I can date now, only to find a few duds, the broken and the unwilling. And again, that need in me that single people feel… the yearning for your counterpart to surface was alive and hungry. That person that cares for you, that texts you good morning all the way to good night. It felt good to at least scratch the surface. But then doors slamming in your face, this is not for me.

Why do I equate happiness as being with another? What I felt recently reminded me of what I’ve been missing but before it was an actual reality, it was taken from me. And when that unexplainable joy is exchanged in one instant with nothingness again, the pain is real, no matter how short lived.

It leaves me wanting more but it also leaves me wanting to adjust my train of thinking. My life should be enough. I have my kids. My day job. My health, kind of. I have much to do in my writing career and probably should focus all my time on that. What has love ever done for me then rip me apart and leave me for dead? Cold but real.

I must protect my heart. I need no new enemies. I also don’t need any more holes in my heart. I’m saving my tears; they needn’t come out my eyes. The blessings in my life are countless and the journey that I’m on would require someone great to accompany me. I am their loss.

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