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I just turned forty years old. I’m not married, I don’t have any kids, and I don’t have a serious romantic partner at the moment, nor any prospects really.
I couldn’t’ve seen this coming when I was young. I was raised on movies and tv shows in which the male protagonist almost always got the girl in the end no matter how flawed he was. And since I was the protagonist of my own life, I expected the same.
Forward by Rob Geisen
In my failed romantic experience I’ve found it’s easy to feel as though there are only two kinds of love:
1. Unrequited, and
2. Not Unrequited, Yet
The Energy Healer and the Drunk Carpenter
For a while I was going to see this energy healer. Every time I had a big performance I’d go get a healing from her, so I’d be at my best. She’d lay me down on her table and put her hands in my aura and try to get my chakras spinning in the right direction again.
“Oh, they’re barely moving at all,” she’d say. “Your energy can’t even reach past your skin.”
“I know,” I’d say. “Life just seems to grind me down to a standstill sometimes.”