Losing it… Again.

I have been living in New York now for over a year, and time has once more flown and there are many things I failed to catch up with.

Last year, against all odds I had a very close brush with falling in love. It was not pretty. I had the anxiety, the heartache, I was worried, and I was jealous. Mostly though I felt guilty and uncomfortable. When this happened, it came out of nowhere, and after all the tears and the self-blame and the fear, it suddenly died down to nothing. When I finally put an end to it, I felt nothing but absolute relief.

This puts a new spin on my life. Now I have entered the realm of villains. I broke up, without thinking twice or giving any reason, with someone who has perhaps learned to love me. I am ashamed of this, a little, but I could not pretend love once it was gone. It is over, I face it, and live with the consequences. Now there is an awkward silence between two people who perhaps could have been friends, if it was not for a period of insanity when I allowed emotion to triumph over reason.

Last March Robert and I flew to South Africa, and shortly after that trip I decided to pull the plug on my ailing project of a relationship. Since April I have vowed to devote myself to my work, and to my son. I scarcely have time for myself, let alone the energy to nurture a relationship or heaven forbid a late second marriage. Besides, now that I am past forty I think it makes sense to play it cool. I am almost certainly past bearing another child, so why should I try to find a mate? Unfortunately, unlike my mother, I find myself often swayed from the kingdom of reason, especially that there is no lack of single men in the workplace. In all the years following my divorce I was always surrounded by married men, seriously involved men, or gay men. These are my kind of men, they are safe to flirt and joke with, and they are certainly off limits. I am immune to married men. Ironically, I was also safe when I was caught in the emotional wasteland of my marriage. I only started noticing other men when I broke away from it.

If it was not for my spectacular failure in my latest attempt at sharing my life with another person, I would have perhaps thrown caution to the wind, and got to know this new man that I noticed recently. But the memory and shame of that failure haunt me. I have come to suspect that, indeed, I am not fit to share with anyone.

My ex husband used to tell me that I was way too independent. He is right somewhat. I cannot bear being questioned and second guessed by a man. I would rather live with a man who did not care much, who left me some freedom, than succumb to someone who would censor my behavior with a boyfriend’s or husband’s authority. Needless to say that this train of thought and these developments in my life are starting to worry me. Therefore I will try to write about them again. Writing helped me very much through a divorce. Maybe it will protect me from setting myself up to fall in love again, because I know in advance that any romantic project I enter into will be certainly doomed to failure. Married life is not for me. Kudos to my ex who is busy trying it for the 3rd time.

Frogs and Beasts

I have many problems in my life, big huge headaches that are not going away anytime soon.  For once in my life though I do not have men problems, I am happy to spend some time completely without the company of a grown man. For the time being I am sure they bring more problems than they are worth. I really, really do not need a man in my life at the moment. My life is so full with my little boy, caring for him, and coping with the demands of his active body and mind, I hardly have time for myself. Besides, I am constantly battling with this feeling of transiency and looking for permanence to our life-style. A permanent home, career, and long-term goal. At the moment there is only Robert for me, and if I was to be honest he is also sufficient as destination and a long-term goal, but humans are greedy, and I do need a little more..

For some reason, however,  some men look at me and figure that all I need in my life is a man to “help me”.  At the moment there are two dear little guys hovering in the background who are trying to convince me that this is what is actually lacking in my life. Although I am always pressed for time I explained to these two separate men that I am not even remotely interested in a relationship. I even went as far as saying that I am actually happy and relieved I do not have a man in my life. Yet each of these men thinks that my mind will miraculously change if I sat with one of them over coffee.

All god’s people are equal, they are in my eyes. But I seem to attract men who are in terrible financial straits.  And I really do not want to talk about my octogenarian admirer, or the elderly workers from solid waste who occasionally try to flirt with me on the taxi. At least these two men are younger than me, one is a refugee, and works for a charity organization. The other is a work colleague but may also be a refugee judging by his messed up country of origin. I have no doubt that each of them is a lovely person in his own right. But I am and old duck, a hard-working, middle-class woman, I do not need to be burdened further by a hard-done by man.  If I were a princess, maybe I would have had the time for the charming penniless fiddler or could have bestowed a loving kiss on a frog. But please, I am almost a frog myself and if I ever wanted a man, then he will have to be a prince who can fish me out of this rut.

Not bloody likely.  The fairy tale world tells us that only male protagonists can risk being beasts and frogs and still be redeemed by the love of a willing princess.   Now if these boys think I am one, then they have a huge problem with their judgement. Then again, I have yet to find one man with a completely sound judgement.