I’ve been lucky to have fallen in love, more than once even. Which of course leads to the being not so lucky to have fallen or been pushed out of love more than once, hence clearing the way for better, bigger loves. Well, not always. Each one was different.
Back in high school I dated Randy for about a year but I didn’t love him. I broke up with him because he was an alcoholic. A pretty good reason I think. I dated a few other guys and another one named Randy Davis who had the potential to be long term, except we were almost the mirror of each other. It was uncanny to the point that we knew what each other was thinking because we had the same thoughts at the same time. The problem was that we were both in the same spot, not sure if we wanted a relationship and so broke up without every actually having to say it. I still wonder what became of him.
Then there was Chuck, my first true love. We met in art college and were together about three years. I thought we’d be together forever. It was very much an in the moment thing. Problem was, he fell in love with someone else. That was like being pushed off a cliff–no soft landing. I moved to Vancouver at that point and crawled through a three-year depression. Part of that was finding my self-confidence. I’d been damaged enough that when I was with Chuck he supplied the confidence for me. Without that break-up I probably wouldn’t have grown as much, but it was still one the most painful experiences and broke me forever on pure love. It happens to most of us though.
Eventually when I crawled my way back to normalcy, I was burned and twice shy, dating but not particularly wanting a relationship. Then I accidentally fell in love, with a customer at the bookstore where I worked. I realized it when it was too late and tried to start a relationship with him. It was a disaster and I coasted close to completely losing myself in the worst aspect of my eating disorder. He was a charming rogue running across the globe to escape commitment. To this day though (we resolved things years later) I care for him even though he is half a world away, knowing that’s because it was unrequited love and therefore can remain this little pearl of what-ifs.
Then came Eric. We met through friends and were perhaps feeling a little bit like we’d never meet anyone. Really, we were ill-fated from the beginning, attracted by creativity and assaulted by some major incompatibilities. We tried for three years, with our problems mounting and communication going out the window. We finally called it quits when we had already moved far from the emotion of splitting up. We still chat from time to time many years later.
And after that, I think there was one other person who snagged my heart, who I can’t remember right now. Overall, dating became scarce, and though I still hold out hope of falling crazy head-over-heels in love I also wonder if my heart has been frozen through time. It’s been a while and the people I’m attracted to usually turn out to not be attracted to me, or not wanting to date, or are taken and that’s a road better not to walk.
Perhaps I’m living in a fairy tale, waiting for my prince to come and thaw my frozen heart, to live in bliss forever more. Well, bliss might be stretching it, since all relationships take work, time and communication. But I think relative bliss is still available. Vancouver is filled with twenty somethings, which I no longer am, and gay men, and attached men. The pool is small. But there might still be hope. Now if only I still have a heart.