I keep holding my finger over the publish button on my match.com profile. To activate or keep de-activated, that is the question. On the one hand, I’m paying for it, you know? On the other hand, is it even worth the time?

Thus far from my adventures on Match, I’ve received one thoroughly broken (as in shattered, destroyed) heart, two really good friends, and a couple of acquaintances that I enjoy talking to from time to time. The friends and acquaintances? Good. Broken heart? Yeah, you can keep that.

It’s been a really long road for me, and I find myself sometimes at a point where I think that maybe a couple of really good friends is all there is for me. A pseudo-hubby to fix the things my inner blonde child breaks, pick up Mini-Me when I’m running late and just chill out with. A close confidante who knows all the ins and outs of my life and doesn’t need to keep a score card, gives me excellent advice when I ask and just listens when I don’t. Then there’s the guy whose company I enjoy but whose heart isn’t in the game; it’s a thing, but it’s not The Thing. And a great group of guys that tend to look out for me when I go out and get crazy.

If I hadn’t put my foot down and decided that I would not date any more, I wouldn’t have ventured out into the world and made some awesome girlfriends either. I mean really, what’s better than that? Girls night out, just goofing off and having fun, looking at pretty boys and giggling over the raunchy jokes we toss back and forth. While I spend most of the weekend hanging out with the guys, my girls night is pure pleasure that I have booked from now until eternity.

I have the best of both worlds. I have no one to answer to, and still occasionally have a warm body to curl up with at night. I can come and go as I please, do as I wish, and no one can say boo to me about where I’m going or who I’m seeing. I don’t have to dress up if I don’t want to, I don’t have to clean up after anyone else, I don’t have to explain bad moods, I don’t have to apologize for PMS from hell, I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do.

I’m not complaining. It’s a good life. It’s a damn good life. If not for the broken heart, I wouldn’t have the “adopted family” I have now. I wouldn’t have my fantabulous adopted kids, I wouldn’t have my fantabulous pseudo-hubby, I wouldn’t have any of it. Maybe my heart still hurts every now and again, but most of the time I just find myself having too much fun to think about it.

But still, there are days, when I think to myself, is this really it? Is it always going to be a life of emotional solitude? If the things going on in my head get really bad, am I going to have to rely on myself? For the most part, I’ve been content in this life. I made a conscious decision to avoid getting involved again, to avoid even contemplating getting involved.

And then something happened. Words were said under the cloak of pretend anonymity and one of the words was hope. And it got me to thinking, maybe, could I? Could I do this again? Could I put myself out there one more time, knowing my track record of being completely blindsided by love? Of always being the one left trying to duct tape her heart back together? Could I do it? And would it be worth it?

I kicked it around for a couple of weeks. It became not so much could I, but would I. Would I be willing to do that again? Could I? Yes, I think I could. Would I? Well, that was the harder piece to get over. I’ve been extremely stubborn in my rules of no emotions. And I’ve found contentment.

But I’ve also found that this contentment is lacking. I wake up in the middle of the night, sweat pouring off of me from nightmares about the turns life can sometimes take, and I think, well if it goes that way, who’s got my back? My teddy bear? Yeah, he’s cute and all, but I’m pretty sure he’s not in love with me either.

So maybe those words I read once on an anonymous board that were directed at me, maybe they aren’t so much anymore, and that’s okay. It opened my mind and got me to thinking about it, more so than I had been in some time.

As I said, it’s been a long road. And I’ve been hurt. Badly. But I made a promise to myself some time ago.

I’m going to get hurt again, we all are. Someone we love is going to let us down. Someone we care about will be lost to us. Something will get in the way of our goals. Something bad will happen.

And someone is going to love us more than we could ever love ourselves. Someone new will enter our life and bring joy to it. We will overcome an obstacle and move forward one more step. Something good is going to happen.

I don’t have carefully laid plans today, I have a general idea of where I want to go, but I’ve tossed out the road map and am just staring at the highway. I am going to love as if I have never been hurt, open my heart and mind to all that is out there to see, and laugh at every little thing that I find funny. Because at the end of the journey, the only thing I want to be quoted as saying is, “Damn, that was one hell of a ride!”

I think it’s time to keep that promise.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, May 12th, 2009 at 6:53 pm and is filed under Dating, Just Another Day in the Life, Navel Gazing and Random Rambling. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.