so i've been shying away from considering the potential of a committed relationship with the man i've been seeing for the past few months. i make lots of excuses- oh, he's too young, he's an actor and doesn't know what he wants, what if end up hurting him?
in the end, i know the real reason i push away conversation of relationships is the way i allowed my last one to end- with my heart and my sense of self crushed and run through a freaking blender. if i weren't such a coward i probably would have tried to end my life (stupid, right?). it really fucked me up. i had nothing left, or so i thought. i acted out, said/emailed/blogged a bunch of cruel things between bouts of drunkenness and binge eating that i thought might make me feel better, and nothing really worked. i basically became a functional alcoholic, and ate myself into 20 added pounds. i guess i was trying to end my life the cowardly way, from the inside out. i thank a divine being and my family and friends for helping me snap out of it, but the emotional scars remain.
i was confronted on facebook today by pictures of my ex and his girlfriend, who seem much happier than i ever felt dating him. i, as "over it" as i am, felt some tears welling up. over that relationship that ended so long ago. over seeing him with a girl i've known he's been dating since, oh, probably a month after we broke up, which is just about a year ago now. not a new idea.
then, as i'm starting to sink into my self-pitying, "no one will ever fit me like that again" abyss, i hear my ringtone through the drone of chrisette michele on my ipod earbuds (god, that's like a bad line out of a "chicken soup for the soul" memoir). who is it? the new boy. the one i spend so much time not considering as a viable love option. the one i make excuses about. he's calling to ask how my day was, to tell me how much he enjoyed our walk yesterday, how an agent thought his headshots are great and will be sending him out to auditions post-haste. if only i believed in signs...