Now that I reread this, it sounds like a Richard Marx song.

There are a few things in life that are worth worrying about. Most of the things that keep us up at night, though, aren't. Take care of yourself physically, mentally, and spiritually, and most things take care of themselves (or at least that’s what I think). If you exercise regularly, you get in tune with your body; you usually know when you’re about to get sick or when something doesn’t feel right. If you’re in a balanced state of mind most of the time, you recognize when you’re getting irrational or paranoid about something. If you are spiritually cool with yourself, then you very rarely run into a moral dilemma that you can’t handle. It’s all relative; most of the things about which we nut up aren’t, in the grand scheme of things, really a big deal.
I promised myself that I wasn’t going to go all James A. Michener like that last entry, but here’s what I really want to say. I want to sit the world down, grab its shoulders, and say, “Hey, cool the hell out. “ So many of us are so wrapped up in who makes more money, who has the most power in the relationship, and other such bullshit, we completely miss the really worthwhile stuff.
Stop worrying about money, stop worrying about love, and stop worrying about what you’re doing with your life. Get up when you need to, be the best person you can all day, then sleep easy. I can’t say it works for everybody, but it works for me.

In like a lion, out like a lamb

At some point in the last week of February or so, I decided to take March off. Not from work, but from women, dating, relationships, and everything therein. Ever since I’ve moved to Atlanta, I’ve either been attached or working toward an attachment with a woman. Not always a serious relationship, but always moving toward . . .something. It’s been a fun time, and I don’t have (many) regrets. I have a great life, with absolutely no reason to complain about anything. With that being said, however, I am tired.

It seems like the best part of a relationship (for me) is the middle, when you have a fairly good idea of who the person is, and they, you, and you can just . . . exist. For me, the best moments are the quiet ones, when you are able to share a couch, a bed, a car, whatever, and not feel the compulsion to beat away the silence. In the early days, you’re breathless and excited, and you feel like you’re on the greatest job interview of your life. You can’t learn enough about the person, and you find yourself playing the angles and games that paint you in your best possible light. You can’t stop talking. Later, when things have gone as about as far as they can, and you find yourself in the series of conversations/events/feelings that lead to splitting up, the silence has a different weight. It becomes an entirely different animal. It stalks and hunts, with flat, even eyes like one of those African lionesses on the Discovery channel. Those silences are like mile markers that end with the inevitable; the end of the ride, so to speak.

After that, we spend a week or two brave-facing our way through the days, convincing everyone and ourselves that it doesn’t really bother us any longer. It doesn’t matter You give and get back belongings that stowed away, remove facebook pictures and references, reconnect with the things and people with whom you lost touch; you slowly erase the other person from your life, and try to circle back to who/what you were before you began weaving your life so closely with someone else’s. There are a million reasons why things don’t work out; almost every relationship ends in something other than marriage/longterm commitment. Whatever the reason, though, the afteraffects are almost always the same: a lot of empty space and time to think about it.

Inevitably, you meet someone else. Often, it happens when you’re not consciously looking. You connect, you find yourself thinking about them at the oddest moments, and you start the process over. The real rub, though, is that in this new person, you’re still comparing/contrasting them to the last one. You try not to; everyone deserves their own space in your mind, but it happens. And, if you’re not careful, you find yourself swinging like a pendulum: Oh, the last girl was way too immature; I’m going to find myself a really down-to-earth woman. Oh, the last one was way too staid and boring; I’m going to find myself a really exciting girl. Oh, the last one was a little too dramatic and needy, I’m going to find myself a . . . you get it.

Now, however, I’m trying to break the cycle. So, we’re back to what the whole point of this was: I’m taking a break. I refuse to use another person as a bandaid for all the cuts and bruises from the last one; it’s selfish and unfair. Call it a rebound, call it a ‘transition relationship,’ what it is is emotionally criminal. So I’m just not going to do it. I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t date, pursue, or play all the boy/girl games with a woman until, at the very earliest, April 1.

The universe, being the universe, loves to take these grand decisions we make about our lives, rip them up, then use the pieces to make it rain on us like a boss baller at a strip club. With that in mind, I’ve tried to be pretty discrete about telling many people about it. My male friends, especially the married guys, think I’m insane. The women seem to get it, but I get the feeling that many of them hold the same opinion. I like to think about it as a test.

We live in a world that, in all but the most surprising situations, will never push our boundaries or endurance. We rarely ever have to deny ourselves any comfort or have to wait or have to endure. We’ve built this amazing world where almost all our whims are satisfied almost immediately. I like to test myself by removing convenience and comfort sometimes. One of the things I loved about my fraternity is that part of its creed states that we sacrifice time, pleasure, and comfort in the name of greater things. I always thought it was a particularly meaningful bit of prose, and I still try to live that way, even though it’s been years and years since I recited it in a meeting with those guys.

“Sacrifice is the path to greatness,” and all that, you know?

I realize I’m spiraling right now; this should have been about a three-paragraph blog on this (in the grand scheme of things) marginally interesting thing I’m trying. I’m in the airport right now, listening to the ghosts of some easy listening soundtrack down the terminal and the scraps and slivers of conversation floating around me. I have plenty of time before my flight, so. . .yeah. It’s a little self-indulgent, but I don’t mind eschewing 12 bar blues for a jazz session.

Validating self-indulgence in a blog about denying oneself of something for a greater good; boom – ironied.

Anyway, it really hasn’t been that big of a deal. With it being the busiest part of the year for work, it’s actually been a little easier than I anticipated. My life isn’t drastically different, but I think that, by making it a point to be completely and purposefully alone (romantically, anyway) for a few weeks, I’ll have a little more appreciation for the way a relationship works, and be a little more careful about who she is. I feel like this last one was especially exhausting, and I want to make sure that whoever’s next gets the best, realest version of Ed that she possibly can. I don’t feel old or jaded, so I’m still not feeling any pressure to settle for anything other than what I want, but I think that this little experiment is a good step in a future of being a little more selective and discerning with who I invite into my life, and doing a better job of spotting and avoiding the insecure/destructive/crazy traits before I’m drowning in them. Which is not to say that I'm never the irrational one; I'm just as crazy as everyone else. I just think I may have a better handle on my insecurities than most everyone else.

I have about ten days or so left. I don’t expect to meet someone who’ll make me want to reconsider the test before then. If I do, I hope she’ll understand, or at least appreciate, what I’m trying to do. If not, no worries; except in the rarest of cases, there’s always something and someone better on the horizon. And, when I think really think about it, I’m almost always a better, happier man today than I was yesterday.