Serial Dating

I have the worst luck in men. My past relationships would be good material for a sordid television series that features a smart girl who continuously makes mistakes when it comes to the horrid “L” word. My most recent tragedy was epic. I never bought the idea of “marriage” but for some insane reason I saw myself having beautiful Sunday mornings with him at home. He would be cooking pancakes for me while reggae music plays in the background. He wasn’t particularly brilliant and we didn’t have a lot of things in common but that didn’t stop me from proposing. He didn’t have to worry about anything as I took care of our finances. Looking back, I realized that it’s probably one of the dumbest things I’ve done in my life as I eventually found out that he was sleeping with one of his past girlfriends.

I was inconsolable for a time. Drinking was a way for me to cope with the pain. Even if I had two jobs back then and I was soon to open a business venture, I couldn’t stop my brain from thinking. Was this all my fault? Did I become so desperate to the point that I settled? My friends tried to soften the blow but even with their best effort, I felt that I had lost myself. There were moments where I would shut down. As honest as I was, it was difficult for me to accept the truth. I felt that this time around, I was damaged beyond repair.

I am not a head turner. I don’t even know how to smile on my own pictures. Guys would normally like me because of my brain or personality. I can discuss sci-fi and literature non-stop but I can also be the girl that sings and plays guitars on your friend’s drinking session. After October, I felt that I couldn’t “sell” anymore. I felt that I couldn’t compete in the market as I was too old and wounded. This is of course in addition to finding someone I could genuinely like again. A friend said I should try dating apps as my first step to “emotional wellness.” I had my apprehensions but much to my suprise, I found out that serial dating can be fun provided that you knew your limitations.

This story isn’t about trying to justify becoming a “player.” I cannot be one as I never fall sanely in love. In poker, I’m the one that goes all in without seeing their cards, blindly believing that there is a high chance of winning. I met four interesting guys recently which proves that amidst the belief that I am beyond repair, there could still be hope. I am not trying to choose among them as each one has qualities that I adore. If we were living in a sci-fi universe, I would probably combine their DNAs to create my perfect guy. This would have been great had it not been for one of them being very similar to me. It’s not a bad thing but it scares me. From my weird habits to how I think and feel, he understood me completely.

I do not know where this road will lead. He is not okay with my vigorous dating activities but I continue to do so because I think I’m already in love with him. What started as a step to get back in society has now become another coping mechanism for me. This is in the eventual case of another failed relationship which I know my heart can’t afford. I am seriously dating three people but my heart is his alone.

I’m fucked up but I love you.

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