As the anniversary of the demise of my last relationship approaches, I can’t help but take a glance backwards. I have gotten past the pain and spent a year meditating on the experience in an attempt to understand what went wrong and my part in the failure. And finally I’m absolutely fine, but still curious. How can something that felt so right, so important and so valuable disintegrate so completely? It leaves me feeling like I have the worst judgement EVER…or that love truly is blind. Or perhaps someone sold me swampland in Florida.
I have recently had the pleasure of making a delightful new friend and it boggles my mind how someone who’s known me for so short a time can understand me better than an intimate lover. In retrospect, it’s beginning to seem that perhaps physical intimacy was all we had in common. Does amazing sex really warp a person’s sensibility so completely as to cloud their judgement far beyond reason? How does one discern between infatuation or attraction and the real thing? Is longevity the yard stick of true love?
It makes me wonder about Silky and her five failed marriages–all that hope and promise dashed after the honeymoon ended. It would seem neither one of us knows much about matters of the heart. But one thing’s for certain, I am not eager to dive back into that particularly shallow pool again anytime soon. Instead I’m going to try to lovingly and patiently train my heart like an unruly, easily distracted puppy and not follow the next person to show me affection home. Sit. Stay.