Many of you may have noticed (or maybe you haven’t), that I have taken the last few months off of writing. To be quite honest, I was burnt out on love- so much so that I feared my negative feelings would change the the very reason I had originally started writing this blog. It’s true. I, Sabatino, the crusader of all things sappy and romantic, began to feel resentment, disgust, hopelessness, and despair. I didn’t want to write anymore. I didn’t want to love anymore. I was dying inside at an exponential rate. I remember waking up one morning and saying “This is it, today I allow myself to be numb.”
For the following few weeks I felt nothing, no sadness, no joy, no compassion, and no remorse. I didn’t speak, and even when I did, it was almost a monotone whisper. I felt that each attempt at love had sliced a hole in my heart, and as every delicate internal wound healed, a hardened callus formed, leaving another piece of me to die.
Though, with every death there is a rebirth and a new realization- when you’ve completely given up on finding love- love has a tendency of finding you. Perhaps that is what has happened here; another chance at love, another shot to get things right. A woman, who had caught my eye is now standing in front of me and refusing to fall victim to my advances.
“Hi, I’m Sabatino. I’m a nobody and my hands are cold because I’m dead inside. I’m a terrible boyfriend because, well, I don’t actually know why, but I guess whatever I do is never good enough because no one wants to stick around, and now I’m awkwardly rambling, but I just wanted to tell you that I think you’re very beautiful. I Hope you have a great evening.”
Sometimes it pays to be brutally honest with yourself.
We talked that night for hours- at the bar, in the parking lot, and at the gas station where I wanted to stop for a bottle of water. Our stories were eerily similar on almost all accounts, and while she was adamant about not wanting a relationship, we agreed that a friendship was fine.
And for a few weeks, I had a new friend.