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Finding New Love

Is there a waiting period between relationships?

By Jessica GillPublished 3 years ago 9 min read
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My mom affectionately called me a ping-pong ball. Not only when it comes to my career endeavors and art projects but also when it comes to relationships. Just this past June, I ended a long-term relationship with a man who, after six-and-a-half years and plenty of placation, still couldn't find within himself to take the next step to commit.

Now, I could spend a lot of time and go into all of the signs that were there, but I was love blind and I was convinced that he was the one but after many years of doing everything to meet some unspoken expectation, I took a step back and decided to end our relationship. Something that I had hoped I would never have to do and a decision in which my parents still lament over (as though my decision effected their lives).

Of course, I understand. They liked him. He was easy going. He and my mom played video games and he helped my father put together his new gas grill a few Christmases ago. They thought that he was the perfect man for me. Granted, so did I. But when I finally did take that step back, I realized that I was settling for a man who did the bare minimum while I was always going above and beyond. That's no way to live. That and it's exhausting.

I spent many years trying to be the woman that he wanted and I ended up somewhere between a maid, a mother and a whore. I was giving him everything that he wanted or needed and I did not receive the same. Not that I was expecting fifty-fifty but a little more consideration for the amount of back-breaking and bending over (literally) that I was going.

Fast forward to the realization that it was time to pull the plug and follow that with a cross-country move from San Diego, California to Groton, Connecticut and here I am starting my life over, while having to live with my parents - parents who feel as though I made the biggest mistake and let me know that my time in their house is limited. Which...fair. It's not as though I want to spend the rest of my life living under their roof and living by their rules. Rules like not being able to have guests. Or worse still, not being able to smoke pot - which for many years helped me offset depression and get work done. A fact that both of my parents have failed to understand. So, I went from being a thirty-one-year-old on top of her life to being thirteen again. Only this time, I have to pay rent.

When I moved back out here, I swore that I wasn't going to enter into a relationship again for a long time. Sure, I would go out and socialize. I would make it a point to meet new men because despite the disaster of my previous relationship, I was still optimistic that I might find the one. I decided to join Bumble. I had never been on Bumble and I liked that the woman was the first to make contact. Well after a few hundred swipes, I ended up with a couple of potential interests. It wasn't as though I was looking for wedding bells nor was I going out to look for the potential father of my children. More or less, I just wanted a break from my parents, their expectations and work. I wanted a life.

Well, fast forward to my first date with man number three, KJM. The other two "dates" were subsequently ended when one didn't bother to show up, even after insisting that we meet and the other, who informed me after our first date that his ex-girlfriend was pregnant and that he obviously shouldn't strive to be in a relationship until he sorted it all out. However, KJM drove east for an hour just to pick me up for our first date and let me just say that he wasn't my first choice but he was kind and conversational and it was within the first couple of minutes of sitting in the car, where we laughed over an absurd and fairly inappropriate joke that I knew that I liked him.

Our first date was at a restaurant which sat on the water in Mystic, Connecticut called Red 36. The evening was perfect. The summer humidity had ebbed and cool air currents blew across the water and greeted us at our table out on the patio. Sitting at the table, I could tell that he was sort of nervous - mainly because he was talking a million miles an hour but his conversation - though at a rapid pace was tantalizing and his smile and his laugh and his bright green eyes held my attention. It was shortly after our main courses had I arrived that I noticed that he kept putting his hand out on the table. Almost as if inviting me to hold it.

This is where excitement grew. I had sworn prior to the date that I wouldn't hold his hand. I wouldn't kiss him. And, I would most definitely not sleep with him. But seeing his hand and feeling this amazing mental connection with him, there came a small part of me that grew in anticipation over what it would feel like to touch or to be touched by him so while he rambled on, I sat, staring down at his hand until I found myself inching my hands closer and said, "can I touch your hand?" Without hesitation, he let me know that he had wanted me to and when I did, I felt this odd tingling sensation, followed by this wave of excitement and then, a wave of calm.

From that point forward in the date, all I wanted to do was touch his hand. I sat there and stroked his fingers. His skin was soft underneath my touch. It was in that moment that some of my pain of my previous relationship withered and shrank. In that moment, I wasn't scared or shy, I was assured that everything was going to be okay.

As the date progressed, we found ourselves sitting outside as the restaurant closed and after it closed, we made our way down the dock to a section of sand where there were white beach chairs resting at the edge of the bay. This is where the two of us went and sat but the chairs seemed too far apart and soon, we found ourselves sitting on the edge of extinguished fire pits, moving closer and closer and I had to admit that I was nervous because what I wanted to do more than ever was kiss him but I hadn't kissed anyone since my last boyfriend. I even went so far as to tell him this. To which, he let me know that we could go slow. Eventually, I summoned the courage to lean in where he met me in the middle. That kiss...that kiss was transforming. I pulled him in deep and ran my fingers though his hair. It was a kiss I didn't want to end and it wasn't long until the two of us were headed back to his car where we could kiss in private. Well, sitting in the car with the counsel in the middle proved too much and soon, we found ourselves in the back seat of his car where we...well, somethings are better left to the imagination.

After that first date...that first night, KLM and I discovered that our feelings for each other were deep and after three weeks, we started exchanging "I love you's" all under the understanding that though it made sense to us, we shouldn't go off the deep end and start telling everyone. The reason being that he is bipolar and his parents would question his state of mind and that my parents, still hung up on my ex, would cast down their judgement and KJM wouldn't stand a chance.

Well, despite this, with us spending more and more time together, with me going over to his place every week to spend the night, my parents eventually started to let their dismay show on their faces. I couldn't and still can't talk about KJM, even in the slightest, without getting the same look of indifference. Their thinking being that it's far too soon or that I am falling into the same pattern of behavior but mostly, they want me to completely independent. We're talking living completely on my own and being alone and not finding myself in the same exact situation that I escaped from in San Diego. The problem is KJM isn't my ex. Not even close. Okay well maybe in some ways. They both play hockey. They both come from well-off, families but the main difference between the two is that KJM genuinely cares what I think whereas my ex, could care less.

It's disheartening wanting to talk to my parents about KJM all while knowing what they think but if anything, it just lets me hold onto what KJM and I have for a little bit longer and though I have had the honor of meeting his parents, it will most likely be a while before I will be able to introduce KJM to my parents. Which sucks because KJM is right up both of their alleys. With my mother's love of political conversation and my father's love of Golf and the Cowboys, I know that they will get along but as of right now, their view of him is as a temporary distraction and it saddens me to think that they rather me be single.

But rather than let their point of view dampen my spirit or corrode my love for this amazing man, I have decided to keep on keeping on. I can still develop a relationship while also working towards my own independence. It's not as though I haven't been single for an extended period of time. I most certainly have and you know what, I was pretty miserable. I like having someone that I can come home to and talk about my day. I like having someone I can lean on for support after a rough day. I like having someone who can see when my mood shifts because he too is empathetic. I like having a man who wants to get to know me, wants to grow to love my flaws, who can see past my grumpiness in the morning and see the wonderful, caring and supportive woman that I am. I like the idea of being able to be there for someone else. I like the idea of facing our fears together. I like the idea of being able to dream about a future again because after my last relationship ended, things looked bleak and uncertain but everyday with KJM, the possibilities of life widen and it's as though his love breathed new life in me. Why suffer in loneliness when I can thrive in happiness by embracing new love?

What do you think? Too soon to move on? Are my parents right? Should I be by myself or should I chase happiness?

Dating
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About the Creator

Jessica Gill

Writer who recently moved to Groton, Connecticut from San Diego, California. I love writing about a wide-variety of topic but I especially enjoy writing scary short-stories, creative non-fiction and poetry.

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