It happened again. I was on the peripheral of a conversation about my ex. And my stomach did the flip flop. Again. It’s been more than enough time. I thought I was moving on. And the flip happened.
So I grabbed one of my friends from the office where the conversation was happening and asked her to take a walk with me. She is a hip mother of two young adults, so I like getting her advice.
I didn’t feel like crying, I explained. I wasn’t mad or uncomfortable. Well, I was mad. I was mad that my body still had a reaction to his name.
I demand to know why! I want to know what I can do to make it stop! Immediately!
So I asked her, “what’s that all about?!”
She wisely answered, “I think that’s hope.”
Oh. Yeah, you’re right. You hit that nail right on the head.
So I asked, “How do I get rid of the hope?”
And she shrugged and said, “Damned if I know. I don’t think it’s really that simple.”
And it’s not. I thought back to other relationships. It was easy when the dude was an asshole and he cheated or did something where he behaved badly and I could hate him. (Well, not hate, but I could at least make him unworthy of my attention)
But this one was different. It wasn’t a bad breakup. I don’t hate him. He doesn’t hate me.
And something about that keeps a little hope in the back of my head.
I thought back to a year ago. When I broke up with that one, I did hang on to that hope for a while. I had a hard time watching football, because I would scan the sidelines looking for him. (He wasn’t a player, he has a vital job at the stadium) I kind of still do. Even after dozens of dates, a few guys that I’ve hooked up with, and one relationship that meant a lot to me.
So that doesn’t give me much hope.
It almost seems appropriate that as I type this The Beatles I Want You/She’s So Heavy is playing in my earbuds. Just my luck. I don’t need the reminder that I want something so bad, yet I just can’t quite have it. And that used it be one of my favorite Beatles songs.
So where does this leave me? Hopeful with no hope of it really going away?
There are many logical reasons that I tell myself why I should give up all hope. There’s an age gap, so we are in different places in our lives. He didn’t want a relationship and I did.
I’m finally feeling really ready to be dating again. I’ve got a couple crushes, which is usually a sign to me that I’m ready to jump back in to the pool. So I can try dating. Maybe it will distract me enough to ditch the hope? It didn’t completely work last time, but maybe it’s worth a shot?
I wish there was a formula. A magic answer. Something to speed up the process. But I suppose I feel that way about a lot of things, just jump to the good part!
Then I need to remind myself that this is the good stuff. It’s all good. Even when it’s not exactly what I expected. It’s all valuable.
Continually a work in progress… Being patient with myself.