I don’t know how I feel about men this year. I never know how I feel about men. Half of me will always suspect they are no good; there is only so much dissapointment one can experience without optimism dwindling down. And yet, part of believes I should still believe, so positivity remains at a quietly, only-sometimes-flickering glow. But mostly? I’ll be honest, I have no hope. I met many men last year, so many I could hardly list all their names. Many of them were terrible, the sort of discouraging souls that had me shaking my head and hurrying home or deleting their numbers from my phone. Some of them were wonderful, some of them are still wonderful and still loosely in my life as friends; friendships that grew where love could not. Looking back on last year, I decidedly gave up on the idea of love. Most people would think otherwise, I was always slipping out on one date or another, clicking around in heels at this restaurant or that bar, collecting experiences like copper coins. But ultimately it was all simply for fun, summer was long and energetic: I wanted to go out most nights. It was an incredible time, but certainly I wasn’t looking for love. I still am unsure if I’m looking for love and if I’m not looking for love at almost 30, when will I be? Will I ever be? I never get lonely, granted I have a myriad of friends I can call whenever the house gets too quiet but that rarely occurs. So, when it comes to love and men, I’m forever ricocheting between every opposite emotion, they’ll bounce off each other with an agility that exhausts me, and then I feel lost, so I forget about it until I remember and then it all happens all over again.
There are many things I wish I could write here, however it never feels appropriate to share them until they are far gone in the past, because to spill my emotions and experiences with this man or that man while they are still in the present would be uncomfortable. I can truthfully write how I feel here, easily, so seamlessly but a huge part of me hesitates because this is a public, easily found outlet. I often forget this isn’t my journal I share only with you women but the whole world. So I’ll stay silent and when it all goes wrong, and yes most of believes it will, I’ll tell you all the stories then. Until that time, while I might be doubtful about men and confused when it comes to love, I know this for sure; whatever happens with a man, however my heart is torn or bruised, no matter how damp the dissapointments, I will always be absolutely fine. I will come out the other end, like I have all the times before and realize, all I am is all I need and that will always be here right inside of me. I like to think that the lack of a man’s love in my life became a beautiful absence; it forced me to forge a bold, strong love for myself, and that’s a romance that will never fade.