No time to heal...

I mentioned my bad run of romantic luck yesterday, so y'all are all abreast. It was amazing how strong the epiphany was when my mom informed me that perhaps I was just hurting from all the rejection. A novel idea. Something I hadn't really thought of, even though it was obvious. And she was right. I always cover all my hurt with everything from legitimate projects to white-noise-distractions, and perhaps it's time to slow down and take a look at things. Take a look at me. No, there's nothing WRONG with me, but perhaps I could do with a little me time. A little time to heal before jumping right back on that horse.

I took that time after ending things with my first love because it was necessary. I had no choice. The blow was as strong as I've heard people describe losing a family member. The relationship, like a family member that passes, was completely lost and the grief was real. I took some time, started partying, started drinking harder, started jogging, and eventually, started dating again.

The next guy I legitimately dated after him? Not so hot. He ended up being an abusive alcoholic. I'm pretty sure he is a closeted gay man who's repressed feelings come violently to the surface when he gets blackout drunk. When things didn't work out with him, I had two reactions.

ONE: Stay home alone, afraid, unable to open up to another man again.
TWO: Go out like nothing happened, date, be merry, make love, not war, etc.

I chose option TWO over option ONE because I thought option ONE was letting him win. If I stayed home and wallowed and obsessed over how horrible the situation was, I thought I was giving him more power than he already tried to exert during his abuse. So I IMMEDIATELY started dating someone from Match.com, followed by someone from BlackPlanet.com, then someone from eHarmony.com, etc. etc.

Honestly, I've continued that pattern of not allowing myself time to heal to this day. I got out of that horrible and horribly long relationship and immediately decided casual sex was the answer. I had a string of them, all ultimately unsatisfying and none leading to anything more than a tearful conversation on the phone with family and/or friends. My mother said I was to blame for allowing myself to be a victim and she was right, because I was putting myself in a situation I knew would be unsatisfying for me. That's why I hadn't been in casual relationships before that point. As my most recent casual relationship pointed out to me, I'm not built for it.

But when my mother said perhaps I was not really angry with the various guys or guys in general, but that I, K, was HURT, it hit me. I AM hurt. I thought "taking time to heal" was for losers. All I needed to do was take a weekend to myself to brain storm and get back in the ring, right? WRONG. Without realizing it, by not confronting all the hurts I'd sustained since moving to NYC (and dating, in general), I was compounding each scenario so that each time I got hurt, I felt the FULL WEIGHT of ALL THE HURTS I'd ever sustained. They were all simmering just beneath the surface.

I say "were", but they "are". Sure, I didn't want the alcoholic to win. I didn't want to think that he'd damaged me irreparably. I actually refuse to believe that anyone is damaged IRREPARABLY. We can all heal. We can all change. We can all snap out of it.

But he did damage me. I thought I was being healthy, moving on with the quickness, but it was just a coping mechanism, a form of denial that has FINALLY caught up with me. It's time to deal with it. It's time to HEAL.

So yeah, there's a young man trying to date me. And yes, my friend that he originally pursued has given me her blessing should something happen between us. But I'm actually taking the advice of two of my most recent hookups.

ONE: Meditate. Take a moment. Take some quiet time. Ditch the white noise and try some silence and solitude.
TWO: Take your time. Don't rush with this dude. He may be the one. He may not. You DON'T KNOW. Take your TIME to find out.