…that feeling you get when you find out the love of your life has moved on with someone else… the heart stabbing, the panic rising, the blood rushing, the chest tightening, the can’t breathe, can’t move, can’t freak out because someone might notice…

I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to reach out after seven months of zero contact. I spent weeks thinking about if I should or not. I thought of every reason not to; I stalled myself the best that I could. But then I did it anyway; because I’ve been having dreams about him. After all this time, he’s come back into my head and my heart and I can’t shake him. I never could.

The stupid thing is that I knew. I knew if he wasn’t reaching out to me it was because he’d found someone else. I know him well enough to know that. So why did I need confirmation? Why on earth did I have to put myself through this torture when the torture of wondering and longing was lesser?

This is… a hit to the self-confidence. I know it shouldn’t be, but it is. This isn’t the first time I’ve been traded in for someone else. Not the first time I’ve loved someone who didn’t love me back. In fact, my exes who married right after me are now in such growing numbers that they could start their own club. Yep, definitely a hit to the self-confidence.

The funny thing is that Andy was the first man I ever felt could “put up” with me. He could banter with me; he could handle my strong opinions, my stubbornness and impatience and all the rest of my downfalls. We were great together. He gave me hope that I could be loved. But now that hope is gone, because I realize that I was never good enough for him. Two and a half years we spent pretending there were “obstacles” or fears of past hurts in the way, but he had no problem moving into a new relationship after me. During me, for all I know. His words were, “same job, same gf, same house”. So I guess this isn’t really anything new. While I’ve been longing for him, I probably haven’t even been a blip in his memory. Yep, definitely a hit to the self-confidence.

I’m not lonely. I’m not even looking for someone to love right now. I’m so focused on the adoption and my house that relationships don’t even cross my mind, except for him, while I sleep. I wish I could make it stop. Maybe it will now. Maybe this will bring peace in time, once the hurt stops and I stop feeling like I just got the wind knocked out of me. In time.

Dating During Adoption

I’ve been thinking a lot about love, lately. I think it has very little to do with the adoption, but probably a lot to do with the fact that I’m preparing my life and my home for a family; I’m settling down.

I don’t feel any pangs of regret or need to have the husband before I adopt. I don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything. I think I’m just simply ready to find a long-term love. I’m finding my thoughts constantly wandering towards that warm, adoring, safe place that is being in love. It sure would be nice to have someone around to share my life with.

The timing is really unfortunate, because I can’t very well start dating right now. When would I possibly have the time to weed through potential mates? And what would I say to them about the adoption? Then there’s the more complicated matter of introducing them to the children. These kids are going to take a very long time to settle in and become comfortable and secure as a family, it wouldn’t be fair to throw an additional person into the mix, especially if that person was still a question mark in my mind. No, the whole idea seems out of place. Dating will have to wait.

I wonder then, how do the rest of the single mother’s go about dating? What will I be facing once my children are in a good enough place that I can put myself out there again? Is there ever a “good time” to add someone your family, and how do you go about doing it? Of course, my situation is unique so there will be differences, but there’s no point reinventing the wheel.

Damn Expensive Coffee

I’m in the best mood today! I had an aha! moment this morning… it was about understanding how the opposite sex show that they care. You know, you read it in all of the magazines: When a woman wants to show she cares, she tells him so. When a man wants to show he cares, he does something practical for her.

When The Italian and I were still in our fooling around stage, he was so frugal that I really thought that was going to be a deal breaker when we started dating. He made this comment about how he didn’t mind paying for dates but he didn’t want it to be expected (a fair stance for men, but he was pretty head-strong about it). He told me a story about a blind date who picked Starbucks as their meeting place, and he wanted her to pay for her own “damn expensive coffee” before he got there, so he waited for her to text and say “you’re late so I ordered” before he went in. The first time we had dinner together, he insisted that I pay. He did it jokingly and I knew it was a test, so I teased him for it, but I paid and I told him I was happy to do it.

Now when we go for dinner, he insists on paying. When he goes grocery shopping, he asks if I need anything. When a Chinook rolls through and the snow melts, he trades me car’s so that he can clean mine for me. I’ve never asked him to do any of those things.

And this morning… he surprised me with Starbucks.

P.S. I realize I haven’t been blogging about The Italian much… but sometimes it’s nice to just live it. If you want the day to day updates, you should really be following @IntrigueMe on Twitter.

P.P.S. Check out my recent interview on myTreat!