autobiography · Dating · Life · Matchmaker

I Don’t Believe In Love

I don’t believe in love any more. This is in direct contrast to yesterday when I believed in everything… and loved everything. And it’s even more shocking given that less than 48 hours ago I was planning a future that I was excited about with someone other than myself. I hadn’t really thought about having anyone significant in my life in quite a while. It just happened. But in the end, just as quickly as it happened, it was gone.

I think those of us who have been burned before try our hardest to stay far from the flames. It’s been almost a decade since someone told me I was “not allowed to exist in his world anymore.” Out of everything, those are the words that have echoed in my mind. I’ll never forget them. When I opened myself up to someone, I was thrown away like garbage. Because of that, I’d kept everyone at arm’s length. Besides, it wouldn’t be long before they’d confirm that I was better off without them.

I was comfortable on my own. In fact, I loved it. I was even hesitant to have my matchmaker set me up. I liked my space. I was happy.

But I’d paid for 3 dates, so I went through with them. This story is about the third date.

Yes, it was the last one. But did I feel any pressure to MAKE it work? I really didn’t. Everything was so easy. Everything just fit. After a few weeks, I was going to write and tell the blogosphere how ridiculously happy I was. I’d even picked out the title, “Ray of Light.” I was going to talk about how I’d found what I had sought all this time. And about how my life was illuminated to an entirely new level because this person was in my life. I wanted to talk about all the good things, but most of all, of how I believed in love again.

Sometimes you are fortunate enough to meet someone who challenges you to be your best self. That’s what I thought I’d found. Imagine my surprise when he ended everything with a text message. I did what anyone in my position would do. I texted him, emailed… Words, words ad nauseum. In my eyes, he’d turned on a dime. In the blink of an eye all the plans, all the “I love yous…” Everything came crashing down on me like a tidal wave. How could something with so much potential just disappear?

I should have known to be wary of anything that gives off the sheen of being too perfect. Anything that begins with that level of emotion is bound to end badly. If there were signs, I never saw them. Although, unlike before, I never had to talk myself into being with him. I genuinely wanted it. There was no need for convincing or reassurance. My mind was made up. We had fallen in love. Albeit quickly, we were dead set to have the relationship of our lives.

And because stubbornness runs in my family, it’s equally as difficult to shift that mindset away. Gone. Over. The End. Those words look like hieroglyphics to me right now.

I’m not going to lie and tell you I’m not in pieces. I can’t promise that I’ll ever believe in love again. Everything I’ve ever been shown has taught me the contrary. How can someone who tells me every 15 minutes how much he “loves” me, just ditch me like I never existed? It’s happened twice, which is two times too much.

There’s no magic algorithm that dictates how successful any relationship will be. There are no guarantees. You just choose someone and how the rest plays out is up to you. Everyone is scared. Everyone has issues. Everyone has been through something. No one is perfect.

A few weeks ago, I did TV makeup for Jesse Jackson. He didn’t speak much, but I had a memorable conversation with his wife. She told me, “Don’t marry the one you’re infatuated with. Marry the one who is going in the same direction as you are.” This may be the best advice I’ve ever been given. Putting it into action is the hard part.

But for now, I’m tired of writing and I’m tired of trying.


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