A Protective Pretzel

As I look back at that period, I realize that I was still in a place where I actually liked people.

Through my twisted logic, my relationship style wasn't just protecting me, it was protecting them.

I had caused May's death.

Keeping everybody at arm's length protected them from me.

If they weren't reliant upon me for anything of substance, any oversight or lapse in vigilance on my part would have no consequence.

It is amazing what a man can believe, when he has lost his belief in himself.

I tried hard not to actively think of her. If I did, my eyes would well up in tears and I would have to excuse myself. Then I would have to concoct a plausible story as to why I had suddenly rushed off to the bathroom.

I developed a habit of dating her exact opposite. Short women, dark hair, dark eyes... Asian women, for the most part.

It cut down on inadvertant confusion. It made it easier to not say her name in the throes of laughter... or passion.

None of this was deliberate. Hindsight is 20/20. I look back on it now and it is obvious. Every woman I had any manner of relationship with was nothing like May.

They didn't look like her, they didn't act like her.

And it was easy for me to not care when they left.

And they all did.