Numb.  Empty.  Nothing-y.  This is how I feel most of the time now.  How and where do I begin my story again?

The hurt is fading (although reading back over my past blogs did bring on the tears again).  At long last.  Time might actually be sealing over my wounds, allowing me to only pick at the edges instead of probing them wide open every time I think about ‘him’.

It seems a blast from the past will always illicit some form of reaction though, however long it’s been.  And in time to come, I expect no less from this latest relationship demise.

Yesterday I awoke to a message from an ex.  Not the ex that I’ve been talking about here, the one before that.  He too left without my input.  (Seeing a pattern?  Yeah, me too.)  But he had some other very obvious “issues” going on in his life at the time and even though I’m guessing, his reasons for disappearing were obvious to me.  This guy just disappeared.  Poof!  Gone.  Like a genie banished back into its bottle.

There one day.  Gone the next.  And here we are three years later and he’s contacted me.  The message was innocuous enough.  Just wanted to say hi.  Sorry for the hassle I caused you.  I hope life is treating you well.

If I thought the passing of this last relationship was tough going, I have obviously forgotten what went before it.  Locked up those feelings and memories so tightly, buried them deep and threw away the key.

Cue racing heart beat, an outbreak of the sweats, a spinning head.

My first reaction is one of anger.  HOW.  DARE.  HE.  Did he consider for a moment the size of the can of worms he would open by contacting me??!!   No, of course not.  He has no clue how devastated I was when he left.  He has no clue as to my most recent heartbreak.

But, wait.  Maybe he’s wanting to really apologise and talk about why he did what he did.  Maybe he’s now in a place where he can deal with his feelings for me.  Maybe he’s grown, matured.  Maybe this is a man who has learnt to communicate with women.

Oh how the hope came flooding back.  So I reply.  Not a short innocuous message like his, but one that gives him that piece of my mind I so desperately wanted to throw at him when he left.  Nicely, but honestly.  And an opening for further discussion if he so wished.  He didn’t wish.  Sorry to have opened a closed book.  You won’t hear from me again.  Still a coward I see.

So here we go again.  A torrent of reoccurring feelings of worthlessness.  So insignificant in others lives that I don’t deserve an explanation.  How difficult a person I must be to love.  Feelings of hopelessness.  Will I need to resign myself to the fact that I will just be better off forever single?  Give up on finding ‘the One’?  How many times can I put myself through the heartache before I break completely.

Just before Christmas I forced myself to create a profile on a dating website.  I hid my profile so I could just peruse the men available without having to deal with any potential dates.  I was trying to open myself up to the idea of dating again, perhaps meeting someone to share my life with.  I wasn’t convinced.  Still not 100% there yet either, but I’m coming around to the idea, albeit slowly.

They’re a motley bunch.  Many already attached looking for an affair or a third person……..no thank you!  A lot just testing the waters, limited info on their profiles, no pictures, evidently not seriously looking to share themselves with anyone.  Then there’s the few men who have made a serious effort to fill out their profiles.  They have a smiley, sunglasses-free photo (very important since mug-shots don’t do it for me.  Seriously, how difficult is it to smile?  And take your sunnies off boys, I want to see your face and eyes.  You’re trying to attract a mate remember?  We like to see what you look like.  And eyes say a lot about a person.)  They might not be perfect (who is? Certainly not me.) or pretty or buff.  But that’s not what I’m looking for.

I want to find that diamond in the rough.  I want to help smooth off his edges and help him shine just that little bit brighter.  And I want him to do that for me.  See beyond the outer shell.  See the love I have to offer.  See that my past experiences (baggage to some) have improved the package that is me.

As I age I am more tolerant and accepting of others flaws – or at least I like to think so.  It’s not that I’m prepared to ‘settle’ for less than I want or deserve, but I am willing to compromise.  No two people are going to be a perfect match.  There will always be something that doesn’t mesh.  But one needs to decide what they are willing to compromise on in order to live alongside another human being, hopefully for the rest of their life.

I won’t lie.  I have a few deal-breakers I refuse to compromise on.  Smoking is the first.  If you’re a smoker, I’m not interested.  Simple as that.  You say you’ll quit for me.  Sorry.  But no you won’t.  You will only quit for yourself, and only when you’re ready.  And that’s the way it should be.  I will not argue with you about it.

If you are rude to other people, no go.  Arrogant or attention seeking (like extra loud in public, always looking to get a reaction from the people around you), forget it.

Horrible to children or animals.  See ya.

Can’t string a sentence together – or attempt to.  My spelling isn’t perfect so I don’t expect that of everyone else either.  That said, at my age I do expect others to start their sentences with a capital letter and end them with a full-stop.  And not use abbreviations such as ‘u’ instead of ‘you’.  There is NO excuse.  There, their and they’re I may roll my eyes at if they are mixed up, and I may correct the error if I know you well, but I can live with that.  See I’m not that picky.

Sexting and pictures of private parts.  NO.  No.  And NOOOOOO!!!!!  Wrong!  Just wrong.

This is why being single sounds far more appealing at the moment.  How many years of this do I need to endure before I find my love?!   Can I be bothered sorting through the gravel to find that handful of possible gems?  And then spend my precious time spit-polishing each one to reveal their inner sparkle?  Can I gird my loins for another attempt at finding love?  Will I?  Yes of course I will.  Eventually.  In fact I’ve already started chipping away at the masses.

Right now though, I wonder how fair it is to engage with potential partners.  I need to practise my social skills a bit, remember how to flirt and converse with men.  But isn’t that unfair to whomever I’ve chosen to practise on?  Do they really stand a chance with me at the moment?  Am I perhaps just testing their resolve to see if they’ll hang in there if they happen to like me?  Or will I just drive them away with all the scary emotional stuff?  What am I looking for?

I want to have an adult conversation about relationships and the emotion that goes along with that.  And I want to have that conversation with my (potential) partner.  I want to have that conversation with a man.  I want a man to fight for ME.  I want a man to fight to be with me.  I want a man to not be afraid of ‘going deep’ (emotionally speaking) with me.  I want to trust what a man is feeling and that what he’s showing me are one and the same thing.  I don’t want to be sold down the river, again.

Who do I now let start writing their story on my open book’s blank page?