“You can’t go home,” wisely repeats my friend Dan, whenever I am in danger of rethinking a relationship. I read a very scientific statistic recently (from Glamour magazine? I think?) which said that couples who attempt a relationship for a second time have about a 15% success rate. Allegedly, that means 85% of those couples end up back where they started–broken up.

This makes a ton of sense and everyone, I think, can relate to the wanting to go back to an ex. They are familiar, after all. They have some appealing qualities that you miss. Hell, even Dan the wise sage dated the same girl off and on for approximately twenty million years. I have friends that have repeatedly dated the same person more than twice, sometimes three, four times and one friend who is back with her ex after approximately seventeen break ups.

I’m exaggerating. But…not really, actually.

You run into your ex for the first time since you broke up and BAM! They look so cute in that shirt. And oh, I forgot how funny they are. And hmmm, I’ve had a little too much to drink and HEY! I HAVE A GREAT IDEA! Unfortunately, that really good idea tends to turn sour (85% of the time apparently) because the same problems you had the first time around are still there. Who knew?

Trusting my gut when it comes to relationships is something I am continually working on. Somewhere along the way, I learned how to become very analytical about relationships. I learned to question EVERY DETAIL and break down pros and cons and hidden meanings in telephone calls, text messages and e-mails. What did he mean by THAT? Is he trying to say THIS about me? What does that say about HIM?

I don’t know if it’s because I’m dating in a very cynical age or in a very cynical town but I seem to want to question my every move in case I make the wrong choice, forgetting completely that more often than not, Not Right for Me is just that: Not Right for Me. And that that is okay. I’ve discussed this at length in therapy and on this blog but I have a hard time trusting my decisions. I second guess and I think that is what leads me back, time and again, to an ex. BUT WAIT–I THINK I MISSED SOME CRUCIAL DETAIL HERE.

Oh, wait. I didn’t.

We can talk about how unhealthy this is for me, how it sucks to be caught in a revolving door, how it sucks to spend so much energy analyzing things that really should never be analyzed–they just are. How I need to just trust the gut that says “Nope, not this one. Next.” But I think it’s more tragic for the other party, especially when intense romantic feelings are at stake. It’s unhealthy for me but it’s terribly unfair to them. I am, in essence, preventing them from moving on, from finding a more compatible partner, from finding happiness. That is incredibly selfish of me.

I’m not TRYING to be. I genuinely pursue relationships in the hopes of finding that click, that spark, that compatibility. I definitely don’t mean to hurt, wreck, mislead a significant other. It’s just that that is usually the outcome and I am painfully aware of that and how much of the burden falls on me, how guilty that makes me feel, how uncomfortable.

My therapist likes to tell me that I am not responsible for other people’s feelings, that the men I date are mature young adults who can deal with their own crap. I’m not supposed to take on their hurt and pain but rather allow them to own it themselves, the way that I own mine. Maybe guilt is an easier emotion for me to deal with. I’d rather feel bad for someone else than look at myself and my sadness. I’ll just beat myself up for awhile as a distraction.

I know what my therapist is trying to say. I know that people have to deal with their own stuff and that 99% of the time, in all areas of life, it is not my job to dive in and take charge of your feelings. Maybe it will be when I have a child or when a certain situation requires me to jump in and defend, but right now the only feelings I have to take charge of are mine. It’s just that I take things personally when they are not personal, not at all. This is harder to see in romantic relationships because I automatically shoulder so much of the burden, an unhealthy percentage, I think. I can’t help but feel responsible for the hurt, feel responsible for the pain. I want to scoop you up and put your head in my lap and stroke your hair until it doesn’t hurt anymore.

But I can’t.

Because that’s not my job.

Because I’m the one that caused the pain.

Because that’s the risk we both took.

And I hurt too and I have to take care of me.

This is being a grown up, yeah? Realizing that you can’t do it all? That you have to step back and let others just deal? Without you?

Ow. Shit. That hurts.

The older I get, the more I’m realizing how much my ego plays into my daily interactions and relationships. In philosophy class, we continually speak about removing the ego. I discovered a remarkable change over the past few weeks while interacting with friends and co-workers when I made a conscious decision to remove the ego out of the equation. It was like the skies parted and the sun shone down and it was all rainbows and unicorns and glitter. THIS IS WHAT LIFE IS SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE, moments where you meet people where they are and you drop your expectations and judgments and just allow a pure energy to flow between the two of you.

I think my relationship troubles are also about this very thing. Doesn’t taking on all that responsibility for failed relationships boil down to ego? It’s narcissistic, is it not? I AM SO GREAT THAT MEN CRY WHEN I BREAK UP WITH THEM. I will feel bad about being so incredibly awesome FOREVER because they will NEVER GET OVER IT, NEVER.

But, uh. Newsflash. They get over it. My ex’s are dating other peeps, hell, my most serious ex is MARRYING someone else. So, to say that I scar men for life is kind of asshat-ish of me, I think. They are big boys. They miss me, they shed some tears, they move on. But I do too and I’m so sick of ignoring that.

Imagine that. Imagine a world where men and women meet and tonguekiss and share some beautiful moments and then part ways because their time together ended.

Imagine a world where I don’t beat myself up for making a choice that is best for me.

Imagine a world where I have compassion for my ex’s without wallowing in guilt and chastisement, without losing my self-confidence and questioning my decisions.

That world is, of course, imaginary. But I am getting closer. I’m getting closer to believing that such a world is possible. I am slowly but surely learning my lesson about what feels right and what doesn’t. I’m learning how it isn’t really useful to analyze something into the ground because it comes down to being in the present moment and being open to the truth that lies there. And then, with God’s grace, acting on that truth.

Progress? Maturity? I don’t really know. Just wanted to say I’m still hitting bumps in the road but at least I know a little bit more about where I’m heading.