Cleaning Out

I'm cleaning out my inboxes tonight. So much of my life has become the noise of other people's thoughts that it's hard for me to move forward with a clear head. Even the remnants of others' presence are louder than I'd like. Going through my inboxes, I am finding dozens of emails from Ross, all incredibly sweet, loving, and thoughtful. I know that what we had was good, so the fact that it ended so abruptly and without explanation still hurts. A lot changes in love when we make big decisions, and a lot can be lost. When I moved to New York, I had no intention of continuing to see him because I was ready to start my new life. Somehow, we carried our fling into a relationship, and while we had it, it was good. We had love. But I had already done long distance with a man I loved deeply, and it broke our hearts when, after a year and a half together, it didn't work. The distance was too much. We still loved each other too much to just be friends, so our friendship was lost, too. Not wanting to go through it all again, but already being attached to Ross, I suggested that we keep our relationship open so that neither of us would feel burdened by the distance; after all, his move to New York was still so up in the air, we had no way to know it would happen at all, let alone when. I thought keeping our relationship open while we were apart was fair to both of us, and while he agreed to it, he wound up resenting me for it. Despite the love, it wasn't enough. So he left. That was January of this year, a time I am ready to tuck away.

I find messages from Jesse, a man who was exciting and kind, and my first New York romance. We had many months of fun and closeness, but we were sexually incompatible, and I'm not one to pretend that it could work. So, it didn't. His messages must be put away.

Further back, I find photos and messages from Brandon. Our relationship ended as quickly as it began. I am ready to push these into the past.

When I look even further back, I find photos of me with RJ, the doctor I was falling for, and it has only hints of sadness. He would text me every morning for the months that we dated, and he always made me feel important. Photos of him wearing my ties to work are popping up, photos from our Thanksgiving together, all of these photos from distantly happy times. We called it off when we realized I was going to New York, and he wasn't. He taught me so much about myself in love, in sex, and in humanity. He treated me well, and he was a good man. But his photos have to be tucked away.

As far back as they go, I am still finding emails, photos, and chats with Jan Michael. Our strange love story spanned half a decade, and he was the great love of my young life. We grew up together, and I wouldn't be who I am had we not had our time together, nor would he. He taught me about loving, losing, and letting go. This was also the first friendship I had that turned into a relationship, so it was my first taste of losing. We managed to maintain our friendship, but not without periods of separation and exploration. After over a decade, he is someone with whom I still share a genuine love and understanding. But these emails and photos have to be put away.

All of these glimpses into the past, not to mention flash-in-the-pan romances and encounters, have me exhausted and wanting to retire from the love game. I don't see the point anymore. I met a man recently with whom I have an inexplicable chemistry. I want to be close, but he pushes me away with each attempt to get close, leaving him feeling pressed upon and me feeling rejected. And he refuses to engage with me in any real sort of way, so once again, I feel burned. If I am honest, I think he just wants to engage with me in a sexual way and pretends to care about me in order to win my affection without having to work for it. I don't know him well enough to say definitively, but I wonder if he has a habit of working women this way because he is afraid of getting burned, as he claims he has been in the past. I am not the type to give up on things or people, but I am just exhausted. I'm tired of being rejected by someone I care about and am trying to love, or, at the very least, like.

I met another man recently that gave me hope. His name is Steven, and he is genuinely one of the most attractive men I have ever seen in my life, like a cross between a clean-shaven David Beckham and someone devastating. He has a sleeve of tattoos on his right arm, and his body was RIPPED. Even through his clothes, I could see that this is a man who takes care of himself and takes pride in his body. He was quiet at first (we were both working an event), but about an hour into our morning together, he had permanently set up camp by me while his dog sniffed bags for bombs. We spent hours talking and joking, and he liked watching me be ridiculous and dance like an idiot. I made him laugh. :) I guess because I assumed a man this good-looking couldn't possibly be into me, I didn't bother even entertaining the idea that he could like me. I'm an attractive woman, and I've always dated attractive men, but this is a man straight out of GQ. That would be new territory for me. How could I even fathom it? But we had chemistry. He was kind and engaging, despite his innate shyness, and he made me feel beautiful. He made me feel funny. He made me feel worthwhile. I have never and will never DEPEND on a man to make me feel anything, but the fact that he made me feel special and desirable makes me think I shouldn't give up on love. For all I know, this could be the sole purpose of our encounter- I may never see him again. But it was a reminder that I don't have to hold out hope for a man who pushes me away or long for a man who resented my good intentions and left. I deserve love. I deserve respect. I deserve a partner who brings out the best in me, isn't afraid to get close to me, isn't afraid to fight with me, and definitely isn't afraid to be vulnerable with me.

So, I am pushing it all into the archives of my inboxes so as to make new room for good love.