it is The strings that hurt

I am so mad at the universe or whoever you call the divine being who orchestrates the happenings of the world. I am furious that I was not afforded the opportunity and the capability to find and participate in love at a young age.  No one I ever deeply loved, loved me back the same way in an enduring fashion.

The amount of heartbreak I had endured by my early 30s was astounding and the amount of myself I had given paled in comparison. By my mid 30s, I was empty and hopeless and looked on with envy as friends described their love smitten relationships.  Even in my 30s I found myself wondering why not me – why don’t I deserve the 20 yr kind of love?  Is it a figment of my imagination – 5% of all relationship that most of us won’t ever achieve? 

And I knew so many people who were in my same boat – getting divorced, divorced, heartbroken, and searching endlessly.  I didn’t believe in marriage or even monogamy and despised the jealousy and insecurity the ideas brought to relationships.  I didn’t want to ‘belong’ to anyone and wanted no one to possess my heart solely.  The thought of my eggs going into one basket was terrifying – a pattern that had never paid off for me.  I sought the very thing I hadn’t dreamed of – the thing that wasn’t advertised – short term flings, fun encounters without strings attached because it was the strings that when stretched, knotted and cut hurt the most. 

​I didn’t want to get too deep into who I was – I didn’t feel like I needed to, as it was in these surface relationships that I could experiment, try new things, live on the edge without someone seemingly permanent feeling like their position was threatened.  I enjoyed the fly by moment life without the baggage and strings that would have been avoided had I found that love at a young age and skirted around all the heartbreak I would suffer at the hands of many many men.