making choices


Over the new year I acknowledged two things and made two resolutions. The first thing is that I am still grieving the end of my old relationship and that the damage to my ability to trust new partners and my resilience to new hurt is greater than i’d feared. The second thing is that except for my partner hunting activities which seems to focus only on unsuitable women, my existence as it stands is without much direction.

In the face of these unpleasant if timely epiphanies, I made two obvious resolutions.

The first is that no matter the chemical attraction, I must not initiate any more unsuitable liaisons. This means no more women with drug or alcohol dependancies, with unresolved traumatic pasts, who’ve just left their partner, who are leaving town or the country indefinitely, who are seeking open relationships or who my intuition tells me are just plain wrong.

The second is that I need to get a life.

I have no illusions about how difficult the first is going to be and it is not like I would pass my own criterion of suitability. But I’m hoping that the second resolution will help me achieve the first one.

I’ve spent much of the last year distracting myself through partying and dating around from thinking about what I was going to replace my partner and our home building activities with. Part of my not so unconscious plan was to resume it all with a new partner. What I had not given enough thought to was whether I even wanted this anymore. On new year’s eve, I decided it wasn’t what I wanted.

The question then became what.

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