I’m in no hurry to be in a relationship. The plan is to focus on the writing, make friends, get the word out, get people who are fans of my writing to help me get noticed, and get published. I need to write everyday, and show the world what I can do. I’ve no time for love.
And it would be love too. My stupid heart would take it way too seriously and leave me in agony, feeling like all four chambers contain broken glass and rusty nails. Tearing open old wounds from the inside, some of which were already held together by staples and barbed wire.
I can’t even handle the word love, used the the context of gratitude, without having to cry it out for a bit. It still hurts to love.
And I am broke. Worse than broke. I have debts from the marriage that failed. I still can’t afford to pay for the divorce. What good would a relationship be if you can’t ever afford the money or the time to go on dates? See the world a bit together? Do stuff?
Besides, I already told myself that I’m not wasting time on anything less than “the one”. If there’s no chance she’s “the one”, then it’s only going to end in more heartache. I’ve had enough of that. No more. I’m done.
So why, in spite of all of this, am I still considering asking someone out?
I don’t want to think it’s purely physical. I’ve never been that kind of guy. I’ve always thought it was necessary to get to know someone, fall in love with them for who they are as a person, and give it time to get to know that it will last before anything romantic even happens. A naive fantasy perhaps. I’ve never actually had enough control over the relationship to insist on friendship first. It would be safer not to get involved at all. Keep my distance. Stick to the plan!
But, what if we could just be friends? Then in a few years, if she’s still my friend after the books are selling, and the debts are all paid, and the divorce is long since done, maybe I’ll finally be able to ask her out without feeling like a clingy shitbag moocher perv.