I forgot to mention here that Jesse/Viking is out of the picture. He told me he needed to take time off from talking to everyone and sort out his life. And that was my sign right there: if you're life is that much of a mess, you can't handle a relationship.
And also, you know, then publicly chatted with other folks.
And again with obsessing over the ex-girlfriend and the perfect catch that got away, and venting to me about it every time we were together, like what we had didn't exist at all.
So, you know, fuck that noise.
What's wrong with me, of course, is that I've been seeking a relationship. Always. I trust, and I hope, and I keep acting like the next one is the right one. And the truth is, as much as we'd all like to believe in the Disney dream, that being a good person means good things happen to you, it's chaos. There's no such thing as soulmates, and I don't deserve a good future husband just because I'm a good woman. He's out there (late bastard) or he isn't (which I'm beginning to suspect). The sooner I square myself to the idea of being a dowager, the better. Happiness doesn't lie in the expected roles.
So my plan is to truly enjoy being alone. Go to happy hours by myself and have fun. Travel, to the SJI and maybe even to Ireland, by myself, and have fun. Join things without the safety net of a friend or boyfriend. BE by myself, not just at home, and love it.
Only then will I be free of this damned heartbreak pattern, and boys masquerading as men and worming their way into my heart only to run away.