Okay maybe not 1000. Not initially. But every time it happens the pain grows exponentially and eventually you get there. This place where you don’t want to try again because the next time around it’ll be 10,000. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not just the mere rejection that invites this pain. It’s the thoughts that arise, the doubts, the questioning of oneself. Is it me that’s doing something wrong? Why is this a continual pattern. What am I doing wrong? You get it.
Or maybe you don’t. Maybe it is just me. Maybe it’s the rejection I’ve been through in past times. And to top it off, the divorce I underwent, the cherry on top, the ultimate F U. The one who says to you, “till death do us part,” changes their mind, says no more, and leaves you to fend for yourself… well at least that’s what happened to me. And perhaps this is why I’m single… because the pain of that type of rejection isn’t something I’d wish on anyone.
Maybe I’m afraid. Afraid to love once again, afraid to even try. Yet despite this fear there is such a grandiose desire for this type of love, for romance, for intimacy with a beloved, a best friend, a wife. But for now I stand here stuck, tending to the wounds of a 1000 knives, hoping that when courage rises up from within to love again, things will be different, that this time it’ll last.