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Running Away


Today I am thankful that running away is an option. 
I'm tired. 

I have a master's degree in psychology. 

Why don't they teach us male psychology? 

I mean, we learn the health benefits of sex and social support. 

We learn how to steer clear of controlling psychos. 

We learn how stories (e.g. conspiracy theories) reveal current challenges men are facing in their day to day lives.  Someone is worried about his financial future. 

The psych degree does come in handy. 

I never learned that normal men can turn into obnoxious ninnies if they feel spurned when they spring the three little words on us in a public forum, without warning. 

No man has ever said those words to me prior to seeing me naked. 

No one. 

I'm shocked. 

I'm not much to look at anymore.  When I hear that I am loved now, it is usually because I do something nice for another human being. 

You know, if you can feel love for someone without the hugs...without the kisses....without the roses....without sex....without all the physical and material trappings of a relationship....maybe it is the real thing.

I don't know.

They say a soul mate will come into your life and change every flippin' thing about you.  I stopped drinking.  I'm no longer addicted to diet pills.  I don't wear make-up as much as I used to.  I wear sneakers around this guy (to the point my other friends pick on me about it).  I cut my work-out down to 45 minutes a day.  I sing to the radio.  I smile.  I pray. I'm getting help for the panic attacks.  As much as he doesn't like me saying it; he makes me think about

what is possible,
what I can offer someone,
what my frailties are,
how to be more beautiful inside and out,
and how to be a better and more loving person.

He seemed irritated that I mentioned that he always makes me think.  He wants me to fess us to what he makes me feel.

Sigh.....

There is one man in the world who leaves me speechless. 

If you knew me, you'd know that means something. 

He's the only guy in the world who understands the value of silence...of just being there.  I like when he talks.  He's funny.  He's dirty.  He's honest.  When I write about wanting a few hours of peace and quiet with another human being, he'll offer to take me to a movie.

He understands me. 

That's rare. 

I guess I don't understand him as much as I'd like. 

But, in my brutal honesty about holding back out of fear of hurting someone, I pissed him off.   The tawny eyed, auburn haired chick with hypnotic eyes ....ran this time.

I think I'm going to lose a friend over it. 

I think it turned into a fight.  Oh, nice....if we ever hook up...this IS our first fight.

I can't breathe.

I don't know. 

What I need is my own apartment, my own place, my own space.

Maybe if I embraced my celibacy, rather than wish so hard to leave it behind things would fall into place.

I'm tired. 

Perhaps it's not a bad thing to run away from the whole enjoying life thing.  I mean, if I promised my ex that I'd stay with him, do his laundry, cook his dinner and act like a nun - the stalking would stop. 

I'll think about it.  He has to be behind the stalking.  All the stories he tells about his sister stalking me really don't make a heck of a lot of sense.

My friend told me to try garlic to keep the stalking emotional vampire away.  At least I think it was him.  There is an anonymous guy on an online forum who promises to do things for me; then my friend does them.

It could be a coincidence.  It could be him.  I don't know.  It doesn't matter.

My friend lights up like a Christmas tree when he sees me. I don't know what to do.  I promised myself six months of freedom from relationships after my divorce was final.  That was six years ago.  I'm still working on it.  Love kinda rushed in on me and I'm finding myself very confused by the whole thing.

If I don't settle down, I risk bringing my baggage into a new relationship.  In theory, it sounds easy to avoid men for years to just work on myself.  In reality, that isn't happening.  I've been without a relational partner for a very long time.  I still feel messed up.

My friend notices the panic attacks.  He notices the anxiety when I'm in public.  I don't think he cares about those things.

What I want to know is how does my friend know?  How does he know I love him?  How does he know I am not being honest about that?

I must be transparent.  Why doesn't anyone else know?

Actually, that is not true.

My ex was yelling at me.  When he left the room, my eldest looked at me and asked why I put up with that.

Then, she said something I thought I'd never hear in a million years.

"Your friend Steve seems nice."  

Maybe everyone sees it except me.

If it is meant to be, I'll find a job and a new home.  If not, my friend will find a hotter chick who understands him.

If I said I wasn't crying, I'd be a liar.


Love ya,

S. 
 


 
 

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