Warning: This is one of those rare, vulnerable posts that rarely emerge. But since the whole point of a dating blog is to share the ups and downs of dating – I figured I’d be honest and let my guard down for a moment.
They say breaking up is hard to do. And it is – especially when you get to do it over and over and over.
I think I usually put up a pretty good fight when it comes to dealing with my seemingly cursed dating life. I manage the lying, the betrayal, the cheating and the continuous disappearing acts the only way I know how – with sarcasm and derision.
I’ve been single for quite some time, but I can honestly say that this past year (starting from last July) has been the hardest and meanest I’ve ever encountered when it comes to dating and relationships. It’s been one relentless blow after another, and it finally knocked me on my ass like never before. I consider myself a fairly strong person, but in all honesty, I often wonder how much more I can take. Lately, dating in Cleveland is causing me to loathe humanity. And I don’t want to feel this way.
Placing your trust in someone, sharing a bed with them, indulging in lazy mornings under the covers, opening up and divulging some of your intimate secrets with the hopes of growing closer – only to have that person suddenly turn around and betray you (and simultaneously throw your secrets and fears back in your face for ultimate impact). I don’t care who you are – if you have a few shreds of emotion, it’s bound to wear on you.
Despite everything, I realize that all men aren’t as vile and heartless as the ones who have played a part in my life this past year. There are decent people out there. What I don’t know is how I continue to be mixed up with the rotten ones. I’ll admit that my lousy choices are partially to blame, but that doesn’t excuse their callous and abhorrent behavior. In my defense, things always seem so perfect in the beginning.
I’m not down because I loved and lost. I wasn’t in love with anyone this past year. Of course, I wanted to fall in love, but they didn’t exactly make it easy. I’m disheartened because I can’t fathom how people can treat others as if they’re completely disposable and replaceable. Online dating has made it easier than ever.
I took some time off dating. I moved to a new place. I wallowed in self-pity for a bit. I spent time with friends and family and tried to make peace with the disappointment. I recently went on a few dates with a guy I met a few months back, but he seemed to care more about getting laid then getting to know me. Story of my life.
For the past two weeks my parents have been asking when I was going to begin dating again. I kept insisting I wasn’t ready. (I think they just want grandkids, like really bad)
But I can’t continue to sit here, feel sorry for myself and dwell on my contempt for the shitty Cleveland dating scene. I haven’t felt like “me” lately and that’s because the art of basking in my breakups and romantic letdowns isn’t “me.” Hell, if I want to torture myself I figure I may as well do it during a nice dinner out.
I don’t want to date again, but it’s time. I’m not ready to date, but I’m definitely not prepared to give up. I deserve to have a kind-hearted and caring man in my life and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let a few callous pieces of shit put any damper in my chance at finding happily ever after. Still, I think it’s safe to say that I’ll be treading a little more carefully this time around.
Dating after thirty is really fucking hard. Geez.