None pities him that is in the snare who, warned before, would not beware.
— Robert Herrick
I’ve been sitting here every day this week, staring at my site, wondering what there is to say. I feel empty, like there’s nothing to share. There are things I could tell you, of course, but even I’m tired of the ongoing saga of Pub Crawl Boy. I know now that it isn’t me, and he asked if I still want to talk to him – I do, but I sure wish he’d act like he still wants to talk to me.
I don’t think I’m cut out for dating. I’m not confident enough not to be hurt by every jackass who looks my way and says nice things. But what’s the alternative? I’m not ready to accept that I might have to live the rest of my life alone and that it would be ok, as someone recently suggested to me (not that she thinks I might really end up alone, only that I should learn to be ok with the possibility, just in case). The picture I have in my head of my life includes a husband and children and PTA meetings and softball games and summer vacations with my brother’s family and watching my kids and Aimee’s kids grow up as friends. And I feel in a hurry to get there, for a lot of different reasons.
When I lost my hearing, my life literally got put on hold for nearly three years while I tried to figure out what had happened and come to terms with it. If it hadn’t happened, I really feel like I’d already be where I want to be personally, and so it’s hard not to feel cheated a little bit, and it’s hard not to feel like I have to play catch-up. The other thing that happened when I lost my hearing is that I lost a lot of my sense of self and my confidence, which I’m only just now starting to get back, and that makes it harder now to put myself out there to try and get what I want. I feel stuck – too afraid on the one hand and too desperate on the other. Most days I have no idea what I’m doing. It’s amazing to me that I even bother to get out of bed sometimes.
Whatever. I suppose I’m just having a little pity party for myself while I wait for PCB to pop back up out of the woodwork and say the magic words to make me think THIS is really going to be the week. Again. I’m hopeless.