Sitting with my roommate the other night, I listened as she dissected a date she had a few weekends back, his communication patterns after the date and the subsequent analysis of what that meant. I did my best to help her decipher his texting pattern and said with a flourish (because everything is more dramatic when done with a flourish), “*THIS* (picture my hands waving wildly here) is why I stopped dating.”

Ugh. Dating was too emotionally exhausting for me. The “excitement” of wondering if he’s going to call, if he likes me as much as I like him, if he has five other options that he’s talking to…IS.NOT.WORTH.IT. to me. Frankly, I have way more pressing emotional matters to tend to, such forgiving my ex, finding my self-confidence and slaying the insecurity monster.

She loves it. The hope, the what might be, the getting to know someone who could possibly be “the one,” is exciting for her. Sure, she gets bummed when it doesn’t work out, but she keeps putting herself out there, and good for her. She absolutely deserves someone rad (yes, I just used the word, “rad”) to sweep her off her feet and I really hope that she finds this someone special soon.

I tend to get attached too quickly and then end up hurt when it doesn’t work out with someone I really like, then I have a hard time letting go. Or on the opposite end of the spectrum, I end up having to work up the courage to let someone down or hurt someone because I don’t share the same feelings as someone who is interested in pursuing me more. More emotional trauma that I don’t need.

So, alas, I’m entering my fourth month of not dating and I’m not saying it’s been easy and emotionally trauma-less. I find that I have a lot of time on my hands, but it’s good. I’m learning, I’m growing and someday, I’ll be ready again.