This past week or so, feeling like the fool I’ve been, I can’t help but make an observation:
Last year, I was in a relationship with a man who full-on loved me, who was ready, willing and able to commit to our relationship. And I couldn’t love him back in the same way. Even worse, when we were together, happy as I was, a part of me was always looking over his shoulder for someone more like the guy I called more-like-it, someone who seemed to be so much better a match, who seemed to have so much more in common with me.
When it ended, this former boyfriend of mine suggested I might need to get my heart broken a time or two in order to realize how dumb I’d been to let him — a decent man, a man who could commit — go. Seems he was right.
I thought I could play around. And then there were moments with more-like-it that made me think he was the type of man I could commit to. In the end…well, you’ve read about it…
And who was there to comfort me as I cried into my coffee? The kind, honest ex boyfriend…and he didn’t even say, “I told you so.”
Kind of ironic, don’t you think?