Being alone for a couple of years now has taught me many things. I always knew I could make it on my own. I don't need a man in my life. Even when I did have a man, I did everything on my own, so it's not much of a change for me.
Now I believe I could be ready for a relationship, but do I really want one? Hard question to answer, honestly. I like my alone time. I like being able to talk to whomever I want, to hang out with whomever I want and to not have to deal with anyone at all if I so choose.
I don't want a perfect Rom-com relationship. I want a healthy relationship. One that doesn't leave me feeling lonely when I'm sitting right next to my partner. A relationship that doesn't leave me wondering if I matter, if I am good enough, pretty enough, skinny enough, or just plain enough. I want someone with whom I can share experiences, dreams, feelings and quiet moments. Someone who likes to go do stuff with me, and also is fine with sitting on the couch watching TV. I don't care about money, looks, sexual prowess, or stuff he has. I just want someone that treats me well.
Most guys I've dealt with over the past couple of years want to jump in the sack immediately, but I am no booty call. There have been many younger men, some older men, men of all types and races. Some have had ways of talking that I can't get past, some have had manners, or a lack of, that I don't care to be around for extended periods of time. Some have been good friends that had potential, but don't pass the red flag tests. Some don't respect my boundaries, or believe they can talk to me however they want to like they are some sex gods, thinking that I enjoy constant sexual references and lewd comments. My sense of humor is pretty raunchy, but if someone wants to seriously be in a relationship with me, bringing up sex in a vulgar way is not the way to get me to want him more. It has the exact opposite effect. While I don't easily get offended, I do find it's a huge turn-off for me.
I express my vulnerability very openly in long conversations, what I like and don't like, and am honest about my feelings. Some people get it, and some don't. I'm tired of explaining myself to guys that refuse to actually listen. There are some that claim "love" in one sentence and then turn around and completely blaspheme the word with the garbage that comes out in the next sentence. I love easily, but I refuse to give my heart to someone that makes me feel guilty for sharing my thoughts honestly.
I gave too much before, I put my heart in someone's hand, and it was crushed with no thought at all, like an egg under a rock. I have learned to protect my heart. It is hidden away, behind bars deep in the dungeons of my being. Someone out there must have the key, but I don't know who he is, or if I even want to know.
