Mr. Nice Guy seems to be fading out of the picture.

I warned him at his last visit that I will probably start to become even more self-absorbed and obsessive about my new job and about the new house as things start moving. I think he’s either afraid of me or playing some sort of stupid game.

Maybe he’s trying to give me some space. Maybe he’s trying to play it cool by not contacting me so much. I know what you’re thinking… that I’m too full of myself to consider that he might just be busy. Well, under most circumstances I would say you might be right, but I know him too well.

I see myself so clearly in some of his behaviors. I think of myself as a caring, honest, truth-seeking person, but instead I am clingy, co-dependent, and manipulative. And if anyone had ever told me that to my face, I would have wondered what they were smoking, because I never saw it in myself.

Have you ever intentionally delayed a response to someone you cared about just to try to make them miss you more? I have. How sick is that? The Belgian used to go too long between communications for my liking, so I would “punish” him by waiting the same number of days before I sent him my reply so he could see what it felt like. Meanwhile, I was torturing no one but myself, because I had things I really wanted to share with him, but I forced myself not to write. I realized he had a life of his own that did not revolve around me, and I was jealous because I had none.

But guess what? I’m finally getting one – a life – of my very own. This is my first move since… well… ever, that I am not making out of consideration for some man. I am considering the needs of my children, but that’s an entirely different dynamic.

The long wait was worth it. My thoughts triggered a chain of events that I could have never imagined would happen so effortlessly and so grandly. I wished it and willed it… a job in Princeton and a brand new dream house beyond my wildest hopes in a community that feels like home. The Universe is rolling out a long red carpet for me – all I have to do is choose my dress and start walking. And this time, when I make the long trek down the aisle, no man will be there to provide my happy ever after. This time, Cinderella is rescuing herself.

That is, unless I start thinking about him. Hmm… If I could conjure up a job and a house all at once, how hard can it be to add Prince Charming to the picture?

Nah… I don’t think I want to share my walk-in closets with anyone just yet.

One Comment on “A Life of My Own

  1. I have done exactly the same, holding off on a message. Hurts…~Keith


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