I was with my ex-husband for just shy of 40 years.  We met when we were 18, married at 25, divorced at 58.  In that time, he broke my heart 1000 times.  Rivers of tears, countless sleepless nights.  Days of deep-seated fear, hours of sheer terror.  A broken heart was not something I wanted to revisit.

I left him when I was 55, almost 56.  I felt only relief from the moment I was gone.  And fear for my son, who stayed with him.  But mostly relief, that my world upon waking would be the same as when I went to bed.

When I was 63 I met S. A full 7 years after leaving my ex.  I was attracted to him before we even met.  I have often commented on our connection.  It seemed uncanny, it seemed that we had to already know each other on some level.  It’s never been a balanced relationship, but it’s been fun, interesting, and passionate. But then, last winter, he fucked the prison whore, and broke my heart.  To his credit, he knew he was going to break my heart, and tried to break it of with me before he did that.  But I was too convincing, I guess, in my misery, and sadness, and he couldn’t do it.

Since then….it has been off again, on again for us.  We have that connection, a physical desire, but we want different things from life, I guess.  We see things differently.  We react to things differently.  And the places we came from on our separate journeys were a long ways apart.  Each time now, that we are off again, it is a little harder to put it back on.  No matter that the love is there, will always be, it just isn’t making either of us happy.  My heart is broken again, I am guessing that his heart is feeling a little pain too, but I could be wrong.  I can’t speak for him.

Then there is A….who I met after the thing with the prison whore.  We became close.  A loves me, is not afraid to be vulnerable and tell me exactly how he feels.  He knows I have this thing with S.  A, however, is not here.  He’s off on his grand adventure, and sends me pics and  tells me how he misses me, and loves me, but he’s not here.  He’s out west, in one of the national parks….he won’t be settled in for probably a year.  There is no future really there.  And I never could drum up the passion for him.  But love, yes, I love the man. He treats me like gold. I think his purpose in my life is to remind me how I should be treated.

When I first told him I was going to see S again, he sent me a beautiful email, telling me he knows he only offers heartbreak on a platter, because he knew he would be leaving on this great adventure, but that he would balance it with love and tenderness.

But God, I didn’t want another heartbreak.  I don’t want any more of them.  I want to love someone who can love me back, fully, unafraid….  I am tired of the games people play in their heads, holding back out of fear, fear not caused by me, but by a past love.  Fear which has no basis in the present, but still colors everything.  I’m tired of having a passionate physical relationship, which never carries over into life, and living.

I think I’d just rather be alone that deal with another heartbreak.  I’m not saying that if someone came into my view I wouldn’t give it a chance.  I’d sure like to find the love that lasts before I leave this earth.  But I think when it begins to go bad, I need to just let it go, instead of trying to make it work.  Better to be alone, and whole, than have my heart axed in two again.