Nope, it’s not the Universe that’s broken… it’s me.

I think I’m past my fatboy stage of dating.  At first I was like a kid in a candy store, cramming whatever I could get my hands on into my proverbial relationship maw.  *Nom Nom Nom* girlfriendz everyqwherzz!!  I kinda burned through a few bridges.  But I’m learning.  What’s good on paper and in theory isn’t always good in practice.  What I think I want, and what I actually am happy with are two vastly different things.

Here’s what I’ve learned:

– I will meet a lot of amazing women, but knowing at what point to say no and walk away is just as important as knowing when to stick around, and that’s just as a much an intellectual decision as it is an intuitive one.   Just because “She’s good” doesn’t mean “she’s good for me”  and I need to be a bit more selfless in letting people go and be good for someone else.  Once I quit, I need to quit for good.  No sloppy re-tries, no second hand boomerang romances.  No drunk texts.  No falling back into sex.  Just done.

To this end,  I figured out my text messaging system (Go sms pro) has a private box where I can put numbers and conversations I don’t want to show up on my normal texting screen.  I started using it as a burial ground for conversations and relationships that fizzled, so I’m never tempted to rekindle them again.  I don’t have to block her, but I don’t have to see her either.  If she messages me, it’ll show up and I can always dig it back out, but at least from my side I can have some finality when something is done.

– I can’t do pushovers anymore.  Any girl that’s content with giving me a twenty minute massage without getting something in return, well she’s not strong enough for me.  Because once things get comfortable and complacent, I’ll take advantage and spoil myself, and then I’ll get bored.  And I’ll end up being that guy married-with-two-kids who’s banging the secretary and picking up prostitutes on business trips.  I hate that guy.

– I always thought women are the gatekeepers of sex, but maybe it’s partially my responsibility too.   Sex too soon is like opening Christmas presents two weeks too early.  Yeah the toys are fun, but it’s not Christmas unless it’s opening presents at the right time, on the right day.  Or to quote 100 Girls “There’s a certain way a man stares at a woman he loves. The man looks like a boy on his birthday. And he treats the woman as if she were a gift that he’s waited so long to open and now he can’t wait to see what the treasure is inside.”  I’ve been a victim of my own sexcess, and while my loins are thanking me, the rest of me feels as if I’ve shot myself in the relationship foot… yeah you sort out that imagery.

– I think my own puritanical sense of propriety needs to be adjusted.  I’m almost thirty.  Everyone in my age range has been at this dance for a few years, I shouldn’t be surprised if the girls I meet have had their dance card filled out a little.  Not everyone has been in monogamous-lockdown like me for the past ten years.  And I think that has greatly stunted a lot of my growth where I’m still viewing the world with doey high school eyes.  If you’re here with me, and you love me that should be enough.  We’ll crunch the numbers later.

So that’s what I’ve learned I’m back at square one.  Alone, but smarter.  I think.  I’m searching for a sense of awe.  That grade school flutter, when I see her and I just know that’s the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.   I’ve been getting it in small doses, but then it fades.  And maybe that’s the problem.  I am looking for someone to impress me, when in truth I should be working on being impressive and the rest will follow.

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