So I apparently wrote this about 3 years ago... Never posted because it was so whiny. But my, my, my! What a difference can happen! I'm *still* not looking forward to May. But I have finally gotten the chance to toss that damn box out the window. I have *finally* (Oh, and after this post, I searched! Lots, and lots of frogs out there!) found the guy that treats me, and loves me, just the same as I do him. Maybe not "love at first sight", but definitely that <CLICK> like the key has finally popped the lock. He heard it, I heard it. It was truly the scariest moment of my life. I don't do the whole "I love you" half a week after a date. I wait. I see. I measure. I debate. I soul search. I wait a MINIMUM of 4 months of actively dating to see if I really am falling, or if it's just hormones. But honestly, we were *both* struggling to not say those three terrifying words, within a week. It's been 2 years (well, one and 11 months) I moved in with him in less than 4 months after our first date. It has been like we've been together for decades, and it was from moment one. Right into a regular routine, as if it was something we'd always done. So, even though May sucks.... March is pretty nifty!
*** I've come to the conclusion that aside from one or two occasions contained therein, May is a cruel and heartless month. My father died in May. Last May, we had to put down our sweet D-dasha D-darlin'. This May, my sister is no longer engaged, and I am also newly single. And I am at war with myself over that.
On the one hand, he wasn't right for me. But I let the things I did like overshadow the things I didn't. Because I was tired of being single. He made me laugh more often than he made me cry, which is good, but he held back so much of himself, and that's not good. He always wanted me to do for him, but rarely offered to do for me. He complained about his weight, and gently offered that I might want to do something about mine, yet would always have ice cream, or pizza.... I'm at war with myself, because logically I know I should have ended it long ago, for the reasons above, and more. And the logic part of my brain is reminding me that he was just not what would truly make me happy and content, instead of just not unhappy. But the emotional part, the part that tends to get squished down and locked in a box too small and hidden away... She grieves. Grieves for lost dreams. Grieves for what could have been, what *should* have been, and grieves because she still doesn't understand why no one wants to love her as much as she wants to love.
