"And this resistance was costing me gradually less and less, because, however much we may love the poison that is destroying us, when necessity has deprived us of it for some time past, we cannot help attaching a certain value to the peace of mind which we had ceased to know, to the absence of emotion and suffering." (Marcel Proust, Within A Budding Grove)
I've had a little "crush" for a few weeks on the first man I went out with since my losses. Three dates, the first of which was 10 hrs long...enough closeness/intimacy to remind me of what I'd been missing...that dangerous appeal to my intellect...and the sense, in his presence, that I'd come home. I've only felt that three times in my life, and all three turned into very meaningful relationships for me.
With no need for detailed explanation, I can clearly--and sadly--say that this man is neither right for me nor good for me. If I imagine a relationship with him, I see it bringing fulfillment on some levels, but a great deal of loneliness on others--and likely a loss of the joy, confidence, and security I've been feeling as of late.
But as I sit here, wide awake at 2am, my mind drifts to him and aches--not so much for him as for that feeling of home. I don't actually want to see him and be drawn into the physicality of him again--its better to be deprived of that poison. The longer I go without seeing him, the more peace of mind I feel as I no longer question my own worth, and as I re-engage with the joys of being alone and move past the loneliness he awakened.
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