Resisting the Fears of Falling in Love

Here’s how it’s been going with almost every woman I’ve met over the last couple of years since I got out of a tumultuous relationship full of ‘love’. 

“I don’t fall in love. I don’t hug and cuddle. Sex is always a plus. I don’t really care what you do or whom you do it with. Let’s meet occasionally and have fun. I don’t do relationships and I don’t fall in love.”

You’d think that after hearing this preamble, she’d cut and run like hell! Yet, the ones who decided to get into a ‘relationship’ with me after these words were actually way more than the ones who – admittedly – did the right thing and turned around and walked/ran away. I’m just saying! It seems that women have a higher than usual tendency to think they would succeed, where others have failed and that they’d eventually be ‘The One’.

The reason none of them succeeded isn’t because they weren’t up to par, but because I wasn’t even remotely interested in the idea of love itself to begin with(that changed when I met the person I’m with now. She didn’t get the aforementioned preamble! I actually liked her from the moment I laid eyes on her).

You see, love hurts! Just listen to Elissa wailing about how her man dumped her, and you’ll probably feel like stabbing yourself in the eye with an unsharpened pencil, just to put yourself out of your misery. Love hurts. It leaves scars. And I don’t need any more real or metaphorical scars on or inside me.

I’ve fallen in love a couple of times. One of them was teenage, high school, puppy kind of love. Ouch, that hurt! You know how it is, with all the immaturity and idealism in the world when you’re still a teenager. Years later, still armed with immaturity as a functioning self-sustaining adult, I did it again. I fell in love. And boy, did that one hurt!

Since then, it’s been a journey of avoidance for me. Why sit there and feel like crap when you can go out and get a different girl every day/week/month. No strings. No emotions. No anything that would leave a mark. Do I really need to sit there and listen to some sad tune, while bemoaning the loss of someone who kicked me in the face, discarded me and treated me like I was an illusion to begin with? No, I don’t.

At least I thought so.

I’m not blowing my own horn here, but I’ve had my fair share of fun with the ladies during the last couple of years of serial monogamy. I’ve met many, yet none left a mark. I’ve even been envied by quite a few of my friends for the lifestyle I lead. Yet, for some incomprehensible reason, I ended up feeling like shit with each and every woman that left. It was as if every one of them took a little piece of me and walked away with it.

Maybe I had to hit rock bottom to realize that a life without any emotional attachment isn’t a life to begin with. It’s a fact I’ve come to understand through a self-imposed restraint to let go. Point is, yes it’ll probably hurt eventually, but until then, there’s a lot of joy as well. It’s like Alfredo said in the movie ‘Cinema Paradiso’; “every fire, no matter how great, ends up in ashes”. Bit on the bleak side, yes, but mostly accurate. However, there’s always the chance the fire will continue raging (it’s a metaphor for love, if you hadn’t noticed). For that to happen, you need to keep feeding it. And herein lies the romp. It takes a lot of work!

I could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times I’ve seen an elderly couple walking side by side, with a certain comfort and an unspoken bond. And every time I would see that, I would want to cry. I want that. I want what they have.

The trick is, no matter how bad it gets, always remember the good times and let go of the hurt. Clinging on to the pain of separation overshadows all that was good.

Easier said than done, I know. Still, it’s the right thing to do, I think.

Like I said, I’m now in what is probably the most sustained relationship I’ve had to date. Maybe there is a One. If not, then so be it. She’s still the beautiful woman I fell in love with.

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