I hesitate to admit this, but I always aspired to be “the one who got away.” I wanted to be the best boyfriend you’d ever had, but with an exit strategy. Afraid of commitment, insecure or just plain pathetic; call me whatever you want. Underneath it all there was a deep need, or desire, to be adored. But I was afraid to be vulnerable. I couldn’t let you get too close.
And here I am, 45 and single. It’s not how I imagined it. Growing up I always envisioned myself being wife’d up with two kids, a dog and a house in the suburbs by the age of 25. When I turned 25, well… it seemed like 35 was the right age for a life like that. And when I turned 35, I got a dog. But I did get the greatest gift a man could ever receive shortly after my 36th birthday—my daughter Lola was born.
Am I damaged goods? I don’t think so. I’ve learned some valuable lessons from all of my past relationships. And maybe that makes me a better boyfriend. So as part of wiping the slate clean, I’d like to apologize for all of my past mistakes and tell you what I’ve learned.
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Published on February 14, 2015 09:40