Broke the Love addiction...but at what cost??

It has been long enough now that I have been single that I have begun to forget what the feeling is like to be in love. It does not seem all that long ago that I could remember it, even taste it. I had been there, deeply consumed by it and had it fall apart, which left scars and memories that until fairly recently had been easy to remember, easy to feel.
I spent a lot of my time chasing that feeling again, dating anyone and everyone, dating long distance, dating online, and being set up. There were weeks where I would go out with three or four women one after the other searching for the one that would bring me back to the feelings that I had had. Searching for a substitute to re-introduce the drug I had experienced that was love.
Slowly, as I look back I see that there was no quick fix to the pain, no way to substitute one person for another, or to fake it. Like an addiction to a drug, the only way to shake it was cold turkey, tears, forced smiles and…time.
The first days were agony. Physical agony. Minute by minute the day would tick by, with my teeth clenched, grinding each other to dust, and my fists tight, but hidden in my pockets trying to keep composure in front of clients, and friends. But always breaking down minutes later once in private. Songs, words, smells almost anything could bring me right back to the feeling of complete loss.
Today is different. By a long ways. I remember the person I used to love. I remember many fond memories, remember that I liked being in love, that I liked sharing and having the intimacy, but have forgotten the exact way it felt, only that it felt good. Really, really good. Like a woman saying that she remembers the pain of giving birth hurt, but only in generic terms. Yeah it hurt, but to try to re-feel it, you can't. I sit today, in coffee shops, not trying to forget by staying busy, but rather just trying to get things done. Not sitting there hoping I would avoid seeing or hearing anything that would remind me of her, because thinking of her does not have a feeling any more. I have forgotten what it is like to be in love. Forgotten the allure of the drug. But even a drug addict will tell you they still feel the pull. Still remember that they liked the drug, only that they want to try to avoid it with willpower now. I don't want to avoid love, no I do want it again, but not with the desperation of a newly broken addict.
On the surface this is a great thing. The pain is long gone; now nothing but soft pillows, and time to do whatever I want, when I want remain. Gas flows from me as freely as it does anywhere in the Middle East, and although I do make my bed regularly, if I don't, its okay, and only I will notice later. In essence every night when I go to bed, and every morning when I wake up I am "Right!". I don't come home to unexpected tears, or unexplained anger, or jealousy. But I also don't come home to a hug, or a kiss. There are certainly pluses to being single. No doubt about it. No drama for one big one, but it seems to be a slight net loss. Not quite worth it.
Adding to my logical assessment of this situation several of my friends are going through tough relationship issues, and my ex, whom I am getting along with very well lately, I see just often enough to help me remember what the bad was like. I am hearing our old arguments, over and over, from the voices of my friends, hearing their pain, and their confusion at how the person they fell in love with could talk to them or treat them the way they do. I felt the same way. I did not get it at all. I hear them explain a conversation and hear how lost they feel in their relationship. I remember that.
The other day I had a conversation with one of my best friends named Elizabeth. I told her that I had just purchased a book called "Just for him" and told her what it was about. It is the sequel to another that was written for women called oddly enough, "Just for her", and each tries to help the other sex understand the thinking patterns of the other just a little bit more. She was so nice in saying that I already understood women seemingly better than most men and for a minute I felt a bit cocky and almost agreed. Its true, I can speak to a woman, or a man about a woman, and have a better idea of what is going on with her, in her mind, than 99 percent of the population of the planet. The remaining 1 percent are either therapists or gay. They each have me beaten.
But what I realized right then and there was that I can only see it all from above, not from within. I needed help for when I do venture into another relationship (if ever), and find myself face to face with the seemingly swamp like emotional stability of a woman. When my temper is flared, when my feelings have been hurt and yet the answers are still so obvious, how will I rise above to see what is the right path through the foggy mess that can be a woman's emotions? This is what I hope the books offer. Quick reference that will allow me to cool down, gather reconnaissance, and plan ahead for my next move. I wonder if it will work.
It was not long ago, that my friend Rob from high school called me in a panic about his wife who had just given birth to their first baby. She was going through….uhm, is 'a lot' enough of a statement to sum up what a woman goes through after delivery? No? Well when a person's emotional and physical world is turned upside down after 12 hours of marathon like exercise only to return home to a home that looks the same, to mate that looks like the man in the wedding pictures but can no longer understand you, your needs or even your words, shit flies. I get that. I lived it, and remember it well, what its like to share a bed with Charles Manson. I also remember that it was temporary, and understandable. I know I made mistakes, could see him making mistakes now and was able to offer hindsight advice.
There was a lot on his mind that day, and I let him vent, but as I read this book, I got validation for a point I made and more than that, an explanation. There was a situation he was speaking of and I knew what he had to do about it, I just did not know why. I gave him the correct advice, which is easy when the shells are not raining down around your ears, but still it was almost lucky. It was observational at best, but as to what made a women act the way she did, I was at a loss. Now I get it, or think I do. I have glimpsed into the thinking, the place where men fear to tread, of a woman and understood that small insignificant portion.
Sadly this is only one point, so full understanding will take longer than breaking the genetic code, but I do feel like before I die, I will have scratched the surface.
He was describing to me the fact that she saw a messy kitchen and had asked him, in the middle of the other care-giving he was working on, to clean it. She went on to say that it had to be done now, not later, or much later, and that no, she could not just forget about it till later, that it would bother her till it was done. He was very busy, work, dog, her, new baby, and thought that the dishes, which could easily wait till a bit later on, were at the bottom of his linear priority list. And looked at that way, they were. On a linear scale they were at the very bottom. Nothing could have waited as long as they could have. But, it seems, that women don't think linearly like men, at least not all the time, but rather like a computer with multiple windows open begging for attention all at the same time. For her the dishes were an open window that could not be minimized, but had to be dealt with or she would just continue to think about it. Men don't get that on the surface. We cant. We can easily put a thought away for later, so why cant women, we think. Now I am beginning to understand how nagging begins and why it is so one sided. Men can put off mowing the lawn, or vacuuming the house till after the game, but a woman may feeling like she would rather just do it, to close that window, than have it sitting there staring her in the face. So she goes ahead and does it, then feels resentful. Hmmm. I get that now. Still don't want to do it till after the game, but I do feel her pain now.
When I hear, or read in profiles, that someone is happy in their life, that they do not 'need' anyone, but rather that they 'want' someone, I get that too. I feel the same way. But I what believe to be true, is that we have forgotten how good it was to be head over heals, and have lost the passionate desire to get it back. We have settled into a good life, made peace with ourselves, become comfortable with ourselves and now demand more in order to risk the drama free existence we have. Maybe that is good. I don't know. I certainly am in the middle of it. Spending a Friday night at home on the computer, or watching a comedy is fine with me now a days. If friends want me to come out, I will, and I will have a good time. Might meet someone, usually do in fact, but then I come home alone say hi to the dog and put on sweats. Comfort zone again.
I recently decided to try online dating, for the second time around. The first being years ago, and you can read all about it in older blogs. An overall good experience but mixed with a lot of flea-market drama. Now I am back in the people catalog and even after 6 weeks I have only met one person. Why would that be? My photos are current and look good, and on paper things read pretty well. Well its me I would guess. I don't have that killer instinct to hunt and kill my prey online because I am happy. If I could imagine the person on the screen being someone I could be in love with, or had gotten some indication that led me to believe more was possible I might be different, but it all seems like too much work. Reaching down to pick up a penny in the rain is too much work. Most would walk past it, but if that were a penny wrapped with a hundred, I think most would stop no matter how hard it was raining. Love is the hundred dollar bill. I know its out there somewhere, but even it was at my feet, would I recognize it and pick it up? It is raining after all, and I am comfortable in my house.