I can’t save you

I’ve noticed a pattern in my romantic relationships.

Several women I’ve loved have been the victims of abuse.

I wanted to save them.

I wanted to show them they were worthy of love.  That they had value.

I thought if I told them how wonderful they were they would see that I was right.  They would see how beautiful they were, inside and out.  They would see themselves the way I saw them.

I was wrong.

It wasn’t enough.

I failed them.

I wanted to be the knight in shining armor.  To ride in on my white horse.  To slay the dragon and save the damsel in distress.

I’m really just a scared little boy.

My armor is made of cardboard and paper.  My horse is a broomstick.  My sword is made of wood.

I’m sorry.

I can’t save you.

I’m not even sure I can save me.

I need to love myself more

I’ve spent a lot of my life not loving myself.

Hating myself, even.

I suspect that’s a big part of the reason I’ve failed at so many things.

Then I beat myself up for being a failure.

I know I need to love myself if I’m going to be successful.  I’ve been working on it, but it’s not easy.

A big part of it is not saying and thinking negative things about myself.  Or at least saying and thinking more positive than negative.

If anyone has any suggestions for anything that’s worked for them I’d appreciate them.

I don’t want to rush into a new relationship

Don’t worry about finding the right person.  Become the right person.

– Source Unknown

The first step to being the right person is loving yourself.

I’ve hated myself for a long as I can remember.

I’m working on loving myself now.  I feel pretty good about myself now.  I’ve got a lot of bad qualities, but there are a lot of good ones, too.  I can work on the bad ones, and the good ones can always get better.

My relationships with my boys are more important than any romantic relationships right now.  I’m a better father than I’ve been in the past, but there’s still plenty of room for improvement.

I’m not satisfied with a lot of things in my life right now.

I want to be able to go to the temple, and that’s not something I can do right now.  I want to improve my spirituality and get to the temple.

I’ve been doing phone jobs for most of my life.  I hate talking on the phone.  I ‘m burned out and I really need to do something else.

I’m not healthy.  I’m fat.  I go for walks, but not every day.  I don’t eat healthy.  I’m on an antidepressant and blood pressure meds.  I want to get off those.

I need to start reading books on a daily basis.  I want to learn and develop new skills.

I want to be my own boss.  I wants to build websites and make money from those.

I want to be able to afford to support myself, my wife and kids.  I want my mom to be able to stop working.

I don’t feel like I have to self-actualize before pursuing a romantic relationship.  I do want to get moving in the right direction and make some real progress first.

Making the changes I want will make me a different person.  Someone who would fall in love with the man I am now wouldn’t fall in love with the man I want to become.

The woman I really want to marry is someone who’d love that guy.

I want to have more kids

My wife doesn’t.  At least that’s what she says.

Since she’s divorcing me it doesn’t matter.

I don’t want to get married again right away.  I want to become the man I know I have the potential to be.  The wife I find now may not be compatible with the man I want to become.

I love babies.  Whenever I see babies or toddlers it makes me want another.

It’s not because I don’t love my boys.

They’ve been asking my wife for years when she’s going to give them a little sister.

A few weeks ago they told me Mommy didn’t want to have another baby.  I reminded them about the divorce.  They seemed sad.

I told them I was probably going to get remarried, and when that happened I might have another baby.  They were happy about that.

When my oldest was born I wasn’t excited.  I’m ashamed of that.

He showed me how wonderful being a dad is.  He made me want to have another.  Now I have two wonderful little boys.

They make me want to have even more kids.

“I had a feeling I should come talk to you”

It was Sunday night.  I’d just moved into my dorm.  Classes hadn’t started yet.

I graduated from high school a few months before that.

I didn’t have any friends there.  I was alone.

I went for a walk that evening.  As I was walking I noticed a girl wandering around.  I kept my distance.

Then she came up to me.  She had a feeling she should come talk to me.

We walked and talked for a while, getting to know each other.

We went back to her dorm.  She introduced me to her roommates, who I became friends with.

I started spending more time with her.  I started having feelings for her.

We went to school dances together.  I’d never danced with a girl who wanted to dance with me before.

Later we were alone in her living room.  I was sitting in a chair.  She was sitting on my lap.  We were talking and our lips brushed against each other.

Most guys would have kissed her.  I’m not most guys.  I’d never kissed a girl.  Well, not since first grade, anyway…

I burst out laughing.

Things slowly went downhill after that.

I didn’t see her at all during Christmas break.

I wrote her a long, rambling letter.  In the letter I said I loved her.  I slipped it in her bag before she went home for a long weekend in January.

She wrote me a short note.  She said she was sorry, but she didn’t feel the same way.

I was devastated.

The girl who asked

Actually, she had the guy sitting next to her ask.

I was in junior high school.  I was sitting in Spanish class one day, minding my own business.  The girl sitting in front of me, and the guy sitting next to her, turned around.  He asked me if I would go out with her.

It was the first time in years a girl had shown interest in me.  I didn’t know what to to.  I think I panicked.

I don’t really remember what happened next.  I think I may have mumbled something about not being sixteen yet.

After that I pretended nothing had happened.  I think she did, too.

After that day, though, I developed a big crush on her.  I never acted on it, because I was scared.  I had a crush on her on and off until the end of high school.

First big crush

When I was in the first grade I had the biggest crush on a little girl in my class. I think she had a crush on me, too.

The next summer we both took swimming lessons from the same lady. Then I didn’t see her at swimming lessons any more.

She was supposed to be in my class again the next year. Her best friend was in the class, too. On the first day of school the teacher called roll. When she got to my crush’s name, her friend announced that she had moved to California. My little heart broke.

Later that year my crush came back. Just to visit. I was too nervous to talk to her.

I became convinced that my crush would move back, and I decided to wait for her. I was sure I would marry her.

Just before Christmas when I was in the fifth grade she visited again. The next May another girl gave me a note from my crush. The note said that she was in love with me. It said to meet her behind the school after school. I thought the girl had waited five months to give me the note, and I was so mad at her. I hung on to that note for a long time. I wish I still had it.

My crush came to visit again in seventh grade. I never talked to her on any of her visits, I was too scared. I had put her up on a giant pedestal.

In ninth grade a girl in my Spanish class asked me if I wanted to go out with her. I don’t remember what happened after that. But I do know that after seven long years I stopped waiting for my crush.

When I was in eleventh grade a girl in my math class announced (to the whole class in general) that my old crush had moved back. I had been right after all. But I was afraid of girls in general, and I had lost interest in my old crush.

Later I realized that she probably visited other times I wasn’t aware of, and that maybe that girl who gave me the note hadn’t waited five months. Maybe my crush waited behind the school for me that May day, and I never showed up.

I’m sorry.