a study in masochism

so obviously i've been thinking a lot lately about my relationship history.

when i was in new york a close friend asked me what the common thread is between the men i've loved, and this got me started on a new thought process - that i am, essentially, more a victim of my own shit character assessments than of the men who've treated me so poorly. i know, heavy stuff.

when my last relationship ended, i was a mess. i crumbled. the ground i stood on crumbled beneath me and i fell and just kept falling.

i hurt.

so i decided that i would allow no new people into my life. no more flirting with emotional attachment because it only leads to searing pain and scars. i retreated from society. i watched a lot of tv with my parents.

but i realized yesterday that, completely without my awareness or knowledge, i've allowed a new person into my head. i'm not jumping into a relationship or into bed, but suddenly there's a new presence in my life, and this realization took me completely by surprise.

i know i meant it when i swore off new people. i know i meant it when i said i'd learned my lesson, and i would never again invest parts of myself in other people. i meant it when i said i had nothing left to invest, that any ability to feel i once had had been burned out of me.

so, what is this? am i glutton for punishment? have i learned nothing from being repeatedly driven to insanity by the men in my life?

or maybe it's not men generally - here comes the blind relentless hope i thought i'd been scourged of - maybe it's a certain type of man that consistently hurts me. maybe they're not all the same.
or maybe i'm addicted to intimacy and attention and will spend my entire life in a cycle of new happiness followed by familiar pain.

despite the tone of today's reflection, i'm happy. i'm building a life here, i have two jobs and i train every day and i have a crush on a boy. let's see what happens.