My heart is not broken. It’s really not. I’m hurt that I was lied to. I’m disgusted that I was cheated on. I’m angry that I have no closure. And I wouldn’t mind it much if I heard his balls got mangled in, say, the People Mover at the airport. But I am not heartbroken.
I don’t want him back. I am so incredibly glad I am not still with him. And I think that may be why I haven’t really, really cried. I fight off tears often enough, but it’s really over the anger. I feel sick to my stomach, but it’s really over the disgust. My heart does not need to mend.
To that end, I’m starting to date again.
Am I ready, really ready? Probably not. But I think it will do me a world of good to get back out there, and it will serve as a reminder (I hope) that there are still good men out there. It will help me stop dwelling. Hopefully I can trust again.
And it may supply you, reader, with a wealth of humor, because trust me, there is some funny stuff out there.
For instance, I got an email from this guy the other day, and he said: “…feel free to right me, if your smart enough.”
Yes, including the typos, which is what had me laughing so hard I nearly shot water out my nose.
I don’t mean to make fun of him. He was very sweet in his email, and English was quite obviously not his first language. I thanked him for the lovely email, and let him know nicely that I wasn’t interested. He replied to thank me for replying to him. Very sweet.