It's been a hair over six months since the critter and I broke up. Or technically since I told her that I was done.
The half-year in review:
Six months is the first milestone for me. That is the first chronological limit that I put on my relationship hiatus, the first time that I "come up for air" and assess whether I am ready to delve back into the dating world.
I think we know the answer to that one.
It's kinda like parole. Like this was my first parole board hearing. I wasn't expecting to be ready, I wasn't expecting early release. I was expecting that a year might stand a good chance, but at this point I have pretty serious doubts about that milestone as well.
We'll see. I'm guessing that the three-year term suggested by saveau and others might be more accurate.
It's kind of like riding a horse: if you fall off, you could hit your head on a rock and be a parapalegic for the rest of your miserable existence until you die a horrible, painful death.
(Aren't I just a bright and shiny bunny today?)
In the past two days, I have considered what it would be like to move someplace new. Start over again someplace else. And the reality is that I know it wouldn't really change anything except that I'd be away from friends for far too long.
Running away from problems doesn't help to solve them. I know this. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt and a spectacular infection that it took some strong antibiotics to clear up.
I could do drugs. I have found that they are very helpful in delaying pain. But it's just a delay, and not a reprieve.
I could begin to prey on young girls with self-esteem issues, and use them for my own nefarious and wanton desires, and throw them away like a used tissue when I grow bored with their miserable whining, or force them into exotic dancing or porn and eventually into prostitution and snuff films.
I could work on my plan to have Sasha slowly fall in love with me to the point where she finally realizes what a loser her current boyfriend is, and she dumps his ass and moves in with me and opens me up to a secret sensual world of bondage, wild sex, and threesomes with hot goth babes.
Actually I can't find a downside to that one.
I'm healthier than I have been in a long while. I've been pretty consistent with the exercise bike, and it has made a difference in my physique. Not as much of a difference as I would like, but a difference nonetheless.
I'm more confident in my ability to be a whole person.
I have made new friends.
I have taken charge of some aspects of my life that I had let go before.
I have made mistakes. Some of them costly.
I have learned that hubris is a bitch.
I have learned that taking action is better than taking no action, even if the action that you take is the wrong one.
I have learned not to poke the bear.
I have learned that sometimes giving up control is a good thing.
I have learned that I can still trust.
I have not learned to trust myself.
I have not learned that risking emotional pain can be a good thing.
I have learned that a furlong is 660 feet.
there is more. For now, this is enough.