After Careful Consideration, I Believe I’m Done With Love
What a $@#! relief
First off
Let me begin by saying that there isn’t a morsel of regret or sorrow related to my decision. Bitterness, though admittedly in the vehicle, was not behind the wheel. Not a single iota of self-pity was involved in the making of this decision. OK, maybe one tiny half-iota, because nobody’s perfect.
Look. I’m in my late 50s and most of my life is behind me. And that life included numerous relationships, situationships, and a couple of great loves that were life-altering. During my impetuous youth, my heart was very adept at ignoring warnings from my head so I jumped into life and love feet first. The prospect of new adventures excited me, and I packed a lot of living into my first forty years.
(I do miss the dopamine)
When I was young and grabbing life by the balls (so many jokes) I made the conscious decision to have as much fun and get into as much trouble as I could. It was important to me that I’d have some epic memories to look back on as my rocking chair beckoned. A noble goal, right?
