Rejection Sucks

I was going to make my first blog something about myself, but I decided to just dive right in.

It's not as though I've never been rejected before. I can name all the guys who had full knowledge that I liked them and didn't like me back. Thankfully, it is a small number. But I still have that experience.

But, those rejections are different.

Those don't cut as deep because they hurt nothing except maybe my pride. One of my favorite quotes is, "Looking back, I realize it was just my ego. I didn't really love him. But I cried when I realized he didn't love me." I like that quote because it is so true. My past rejections were not personal. The guys never gave me a chance and I only had a surface-liking for them. Nothing serious. The feelings were fleeting and as soon as I realized they weren't mutual, my affections evaporated as if they never existed. This time is not like all of those other times.

I guess with Trump, I had hope. Whether or not he fed that hope or if I just barreled full speed ahead without the slightest bit of encouragement depends on the observer. I feel that he gave me hope. I also spotted a picture of his ex. Not pretty. I think that emboldened me a little too. I felt a man so wonderful should be with a woman who made sense. Not one who well didn't make sense -- at least in pictures. So, I thought that maybe I had a real chance. Unfortunately, I was wrong. Trump took full stock of me and everything I had to offer him and he r-e-j-e-c-t-e-d me. A lesser woman's already fragile self-esteem would have been crushed. My self-esteem was built to last. I can't say the same for my heart.

So many warning signs pointed me to the door, but I stayed the course because I am a winner and I refuse to lose. Love isn't a game but I didn't want the man to marry me (well, I wouldn't have said no either). I just wanted him to want me. And I played every card I had and went home empty-handed and broken-hearted.

Lately I have been coming across different books and magazines filled with stories of girls just like me. They too were in the same situation with a guy whose oxytocin levels were dangerously low and flight risk enormously high. In a way, it's comforting to know that I'm not the dumbest brood in America. But in another way it's maddening that guys get away with this kind of behavior.

Even Carribean Cutie is acting strangely toward me. He used to call me and and invite me over all the time. Lately? Zilch. I can only assume it's because I refused to give in to him. Go figure that one. He can blame Trump -- who also doesn't seem to want to talk to me.

It is just as I suspected. I can't win with these men. Damned if I do, damned if I don't. Which is why I won't -- ever again.

Rejection sucks. Literally. It sucks the life right out of everything. And for me, it is potent and strong and looms just below the surface weighing down my heart just enough that I never forget it, but not enough that anyone notices the source of my sometimes funky mood.

I hate being rejected.