So last blog about nicknameless new person, I promise. Last night, I said my good-bye to him. Of course, he took offense to it, probably because I added I dodged a bullet. That wasn’t nice of me, but it’s true. But also it was obvious in his response he was ready to bail before I sent the text last night; my guess would be he was probably ready to bail about a week before. I wished him luck and thanked him for the good show recommendation he gave me. Then I said bye. Such a small, three-lettered word caused me to fully embrace the sadness. Not in the way I did the other night, with tears. No. This was acceptance of, one more time, I got involved with self-sabatoging behaviour. At least this time, I could point his out too, which made me feel better.
If I’m completely honest with myself, I knew what we had when we were together wasn’t really what I wanted. I’m a therapist, I can control a conversation without people knowing it. But it’s easy enough to ask about me just by saying, “what about you?” He rarely did that when we were having conversation. However, all the stuff I said about him in my last blog was (and still is) true and I wanted that person to be a longer-term part of my life. Unfortunately, somewhere within me I knew I’d have to tolerate all the bad stuff as well, which I thought maybe I could do. Maybe. Yet, I knew things with new person without a nickname were done as soon as I booked my tickets to London… Two days before I told him I wouldn’t mind being in a relationship with him… Six days before I said bye. It should be noted I heard nothing from him in those 4 days.
At any point in time, if either of us wanted to continue with what we had, we could have texted each other. I could have asked if he needed space; He could have stated he wasn’t ignoring me but just needed space. But neither of us did it. Because we both were ready to quit whether of us were willing to admit it or not. I mean, I booked tickets to London for fuck’s sake. Nothing says running for me like going to London and traveling around the UK and Ireland. But that’s just correlation; it’s not like me booking tickets to travel CAUSE me to be reckless with my dating relationships… I think. No. It can’t be. It
Something as wonderful as traveling and adventuring can’t be my free pass to engaging in carelessness with men. Maybe carelessness is too harsh of a word. I mean, maybe the fact I’m leaving makes me more open to starting something, because there’s an end date. However, that hasn’t happened every time I’ve gone a travelling. But I do tend to be more open to talking/flirting with the male of the species when I’m not in Seattle. If I count those times too, I’m pretty sure I’m batting 100%. But that’s still not causation. Great! Even the trip I haven’t gone on yet fits my criteria for being more open to the gent folk. This is so bizarre to think about.
I used to say travel was my lover. And it would become my mistress if I ever got into a serious relationship. Maybe, just maybe, it was wrong of me to say it. Maybe, just maybe, I am in a serious relationship with travel, and the men/boys/guys who’ve come and gone over the years, have been my mistresses. Or maybe, just maybe, sigh, I know this is going to sound completely insane, but I can have both travel and a man in my life existing in harmony for longer than three months but usually for a much shorter period of time. Much much shorter. Then I wouldn’t even have to consider if it’s causation or correlation; it’d be co-existence. I mean, does shit like that ever happen in real life? Does it even happen in books? Why don’t I read better books that give me hope for something like this to be possible? Do I need to write those damn books myself? Because I really want to get back into writing. Yup that’s what my life comes down to… I need to write and I need to travel.