Love’s Labour’s Lost

It has been about a year since I switched to a regime of medication to deal with my so called AADHD.  What a change to my life! Where last year was a bitter struggle to make ends meet, and to hold on to my sanity … and my relationships, it feels like now, someone threw a switch and life surges forward at pace. I’m  happy again. Work flows, opportunity hammers at my door each day, and I struggle to keep up with myself (in a good way).  My partner and I have a renewed desire for healthy living.

I am fortunate to be able to afford personal trainers, and this has made all the difference in our training regimen. We’re becoming fit and lean.  Runnung, cycling, gym – we’re really enjoying the active lifestyle, and each other.  And so, with every new life comes new challenges. That eternal question that all men – especially divorced men – have to face: Do I Get Married?

I’ve been with my partner for close to 6 years now. The first three years could have been lifted from a Soap Opera Novel – Sex, Drugs and House Music – the roller coaster ride of a love quadrangle.  But that’s for a different Blog.  We’ve lived together for the last three years and a bit, and have been engaged  for two. Its been really good for me, even though i didn’t think so at the time. There is a self destructive part to me that yearns for the passionate turbulence and intrigue that comes with being involved with someone that is wholly unsuited to my personality. That same part forgets, quite easily, the toll that such a relationship has on ones life, one’s relationships, one’s soul.  And so I find myself with a woman who is beautiful, calm, supportive and far too patient with me for my own good, and I’m bored. And now she wants to get married.

The idea terrifies me.  More so because she wants to have children.  There she stands, tapping her foot impatiently to the rythmn of her biological clock, waiting for me to get my act together. But sixteen years – 21 if you include the marriage – of emotional blunt trauma by my ex-wife, using my daughters as the instrument of revenge, preclude me from ever again going down that path. Never again will so much power over my life be given to one person, where children become the Trojan vehicle of my destruction.  And that in itself is my ex’s ultimate victory, that I shut myself off from ever getting that close to someone that I can give them my most precious gift, the trust that allows them to bear me children.


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