November Blue

I have spent so fucking much of my life protecting myself from these very feelings: Rejection. Being left. Being unimportant to someone. Being too much of something or too little of something else in the eye’s of another. Not good enough.

And all the protective mechanisms in some way shape or form have worked – at least in the short haul. So at the urging of my therapists and my family and some crazy inner voice, I’ve tried to do it differently. To really be me – authentic, vulnerable, present.

And where does it get me? Hung out to dry. Passed over. Interesting for 6 weeks and nothing more. Dating in my past experiences hasn’t been like this. I have become semi-professional at contorting myself into exactly what the other person wants and then I feel secure. I feel comfortable. I don’t feel that aching uncertainty in my belly.

All because of how I feel now. I feel like shit. I let myself actually like someone for the right reasons. I let him like me for the right reasons. And he did. For a short while. And then something changed. And now I feel like a loser because he’s blowing me off. I am wholly unappealling to him, virtually overnight. But I must clarify – I’m not worth hanging out with, cuddling with or responding to correspondence from but apparently I still am worthy of text message updates as to what he’s doing. Don’t fake it buddy, that’s called stringing me along and confusing me. It’s not kind.

I FUCKING hate dating. It’s all about flying blind and getting hurt and being uncertain and vulnerable. On days like today I just think it’ll never work for me. I don’t know if I can keep doing it. Solitude feels safer.