It’s Sunday night. I’ve spent most of the day sleeping off the residual effects of Saturday night. I’m pretty sure I woke up just still drunk and not even hungover, but that’s the price you pay for a good time I suppose.

I close Twitter, Facebook, and all other avenues to the world. I lower the lights, put on some Jazz, lie down on my couch, look up at the ceiling, and let my mind wander. The windows are slightly open. Though cold, the light breeze reminds me of that sunset on St. Pete Beach, feeling the wind roll off the water as the sun lazily eased past the horizon. Even thinking about it now lights a smile on my smile, and makes my heart skip a little.

Every time a car drives by, the subtle slosh of rains adds to the overall calm of a constantly tormented mind. Analysis. Always, always analyzing. My mind is forever racing. It’s a strength and weakness of mine, but moments like this are sacred. They’re also pretty depressing.

I’ve been spending a lot of time lately thinking about what I want out of life. It’s a topic that I find myself drifting back toward often. Maybe we all do. In some ways, we should. Lately, I think something I’ve been looking for and/or missing is a connection with someone.

My last relationship was the best one I’ve had in my life, I would say. In terms of the personal and emotional growth I went through during its time, I’m left with little doubt that the experience helped me to evolve into a better person. For the past while, I’ve been more or less fine with being on my own. I’m not so certain that’s the case anymore, though.

The concept of dating and putting myself out there in that capacity is a daunting task. I’m not the most socially inclined person you’d ever meet, and I am patently awful at reading subtext or levels of interest. I never know when to make the first move, or when to lay cards on the table, or when to give space. I am legitimately bad at dating.

And rejection hurts.

There’s an unusual balance that comes out of valuing your opinion of yourself than the estimated opinion others have of you and allowing yourself to become vulnerable enough to allow someone else’s opinion of you matter. It can be really difficult for me.

When I think about the things I want out of life, it can feel somewhat impossible. The odds seem incredibly unlikely that I’d find someone that I was physically attracted to, could connect with emotionally, and have them feel the same way about me. I’m such an odd duck that I’m not sure how compatible I’d even be with most people in that capacity. Sometimes I’m super social. Sometimes I’m an absolute recluse. Sometimes I just want to be close to someone. Sometimes I want to be left to my own devices. And there’s generally no rhyme or reason to any shift in mindset.

Reading that last paragraph back is somewhat embarrassing. Someone might read this and think I’m batshit crazy. And maybe they’d be right, but I’m not going to delete it. I started this blog to try to explore myself and work on being more open. It’s extremely uncomfortable for me to write about myself, but I think it helps me to learn how to express feelings better.

But anyway, I think what I’ve come to realize about wanting to try for a relationship or putting myself out there like that at all is that… I’ve sat here for a few minutes, trying to think of the best way to describe it.

Not everybody’s going to like you, for whatever reason. And that’s okay. Not everybody’s going to respond to you as soon as you’d like, or be as excited to see you as you are to see them, and that’s fine. And feeling rejected can and will more than likely hurt. And that’s okay, too.

At the end of the day, it doesn’t change who you are, and it shouldn’t change how you feel about yourself. Above all, you can’t settle for less than what you want or less than how you want to be treated.

It’s not all about another person accepting or rejecting you. Someone has to bring their A-game to the table as well. They have to wow you, impress you, and make you feel appreciated. You have a lot to offer someone, and it’s okay to feel like you deserve someone that wants to offer you things in return.

I miss the connection. The hand holding. Feeling like I wasn’t alone in the world. I know that I’m not alone, but there’s a different kind of assurance when you have someone in your life and you’re both in love with each other. I miss having a bond like that, and I want it again someday.

But I’m not going to sell myself short to get it. Someone should be excited to see me. To spend time with me. To be around me. I guess I’ve just kinda realized that if I do put myself out there, it’s not just a matter or if they are going to like me or not. It’s not entirely up to them. My accepting them is not some forgone conclusion, where I’m effectively assessed and measured. If I don’t like the way someone is making me feel, then that’s meaningful.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m worth something. It may sound like a cocky or arrogant thing to say, but being with me is a privilege. I value myself highly enough to feel that way. Someone should feel lucky to be with me, and I want to feel lucky to be with them.

I don’t know if I’ll get all of the things I want out of life. I don’t know if I will ever find that kind of impossible connection that continues to thrive after decades. I don’t know.

But I never will if I don’t try, or if I let setbacks cause me to withdraw and wither. If I close up in the name of not getting hurt again, I can’t be open to the kind of connection I want. And nobody is worth me doing that to myself. So even if it hurts, I have to keep believing in myself and I have to move forward.

This all probably sounds pretty Hallmark or obvious, but it’s something of a revelation to me. I’ve always been one to just shut down, withdraw, close off, and make sure I didn’t get hurt anymore. But that’s giving people too much power and control over me. The pain that comes from shutting myself off emotionally hurts more than any kind of rejection I’d find out there.

Win or lose, I am me. And I like to think I’m pretty damn cool. And whoever I pursue should think I am, too.