My break up is not something I will particularly touch on, other than to say we wanted different things, and I wish Brick the best in future. Me, I have been processing it as a series of feelings, largely as an immense amount of vulnerability, a bit of cumulative damage to my self esteem, and a few conclusions.
Whether or not I actually make use of these lessons is an experiment in free will versus disaster planning, but whatever.
One of these is that I absa-posa-lutely should not do any more rushing in anything, regardless of whatever my heart decides for me. Several choices over the course of my life have been made on the hinge of the closing door of my last relationship. These choices seemed temporary and laced with hedonism, only to morph very quickly into responsibility. That is a kind of love, but one where you end up singing Joanie Mitchell songs about Clouds.
Here is the gut truth, over several relationships: I seem to like high strung men, and the nurturing is a part of my attachment. I do not think I can change my type there. It does, however, cause certain trends that repeat over the last decade.
I am going to make a slightly more selfish and self contained path in the next six months. No relationships, lots of exploration. That isn’t to say I table the idea of settling down forever, but I want to experience being single.
Even if my heart attaches itself, as it is wont to do, nothing worth it requires me to cast off all balance to claim it. Dates, dance classes, flirting, fun. Busy, but aware.