Well, this was certainly fun to awaken to.
I got an email this morning telling me that she was not at all happy about having her fat arse being bandied about in here. As she happens to be in Alaska this morning, we can't exactly discuss it very easily. Perhaps it's just as well that she's not here, as I'm in an ugly mood.

Since this is to be done publicly, let's do it right, shall we?

Put yourself in my place for a bit. I'm a divorced father of three extremely bright young adults who consider their mother to be in fact insane. Over the past ten years I've had a large number of relationships that just didn't work out. Why? Because living with a guy who has that sort of burden on him is not easy at all. I had the Travel Agent living with me, and she felt like she was in competition with them and things got unstable fast. I had the Lunatic Artist living with me, and she has a condition that will require her to be on meds for the rest of her life. She too found that she was having a big problem dealing with living with me, and it degenerated enough to where I had to move her out before something really dire happened to her.

Life with me is not easy at all, apparently, no matter how I try. My house tends to be pretty chaotic at the best of times.

That said, I do get lonely like everyone else, and don't like being single. As things with the Lunatic Artist were dying down into the last terrible death throes and the melodrama washed over me in waves, I made the move in a moment of terrible judgment to become involved with someone on the other side of the fucking ocean. As my feelings got involved in England and I felt like there was nothing but madness and chaos here, I was very seriously considering moving over there.

Over the next few months it looked more and more appealing to me, and god knows we had a very good time when we were together over here as well. But then came that final chunk of melodrama that decisively cut off any and all contact that I had with the Lunatic Artist, and when the dust finally settled I started to really think hard about what I was doing.

Consider: there are two possible scenarios that it could have taken- I could uproot and move over there, or you could uproot and move over here. What are the ramifications of each?

If I were to leave here, that would mean abandoning my kids, basically. As I said, they consider their mother to be crazy. They don't deal well with her, and for good reason- in fact, she is crazy. I've had to do the work of two parents for the past twenty years. If I left and they had only her, it would not turn out well for any of them.

If you had moved over here it would be simpler in some ways but harder in others. Given my track record with relationships and how they unravel when they actually have to live with me, it would be a huge risk on your part to move over here. I mean, moving from one city to another for someone is a pretty big leap. Moving from, say, New York to Virginia would be an even bigger leap. But moving from one country to another? Having to adapt to a whole new culture, having to leave most of your possessions behind because of the cost of shipping them, throwing everything you have on the faith that a romantic relationship would work out? That's starting to get really fucking scary. What if you got here and six months later you found that you couldn't handle the stress of living with me?

I thought long and hard about that. I have enough bad things on my conscience as it is, things that still come back to haunt me in the night when I hit a depression. If this didn't work out, would I want that on my conscience as well?

I thought long and hard, then made the hard decision to end things because the risk was far too high for my liking.

And yes, I figured that I would end up not ever getting into a relationship again. I'd have flings with women and have sex and good times, but no more than that. Romance doesn't seem to work out well for me.

Then the unexpected happened, and I found someone who liked me and liked my kids and had enough of a life of her own that she had no need to compete with the kids for my attention- if I need to focus on them more, she has plenty of work to do. We fit together uncommonly well, and after about six months she moved in with me. She still has her house but keeps it rented out for now, and has been testing the waters so to speak with living here. So far so good, and yes we did get engaged. No one is more surprised by that than me.

I've been keeping very quiet about it because I didn't want to hurt your feelings as has already happened now, thanks to Facebook. I was trying to avoid causing you more pain than I already have. Guess that didn't work out.

So there you have it. I didn't lie. It wasn't just a casual fling to fill in time, it was something that I was feeling thoroughly but then stopped because the risk was too great for truly epic disaster. I had gotten caught up in the rush of new love and hadn't been very rational about it, but then had to start really considering the realities and came to the obvious painful conclusion. Because I didn't want to take a chance on doing terrible injury to someone that I really liked and had feelings for, I felt it best to end it before things had progressed too far. Call me a bastard if you wish. I've been called worse.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Mon 10 May 2010, 17:30, 1 reply, 16 years ago)

So Romance doesn't work out well for you but your already engaged to her after a short time.
Maybe it's just as well you thought WE didn't fit uncommonly well. Give her my best wishes, she's going to need it.

Oh and your post was pointless. No-one on here really gives a shit about my love life. Just forum banter innit.
( girlinthehole, Mon 10 May 2010, 18:06, Reply)