Making good decisions 

History has shown that when it comes to matters of the heart, I cannot be trusted to make decisions that are in my own best interests. This is why the idea of me finding a partner for myself is somewhat frightening. 

To prove my point, my last five prospects have included:

  • A raging alcoholic who routinely drank a case of beer while sitting alone in the dark in his living room and who was, I suspected, a homosexual. 
  •  A Texan who was incredibly charming and who wanted to have a baby with me. Turns out his girlfriend, who he lived with, was not too keen on that idea. 
  • A barber from New York who was separated and assured me he was going to get a divorce. When his wife threatened to kill me unless I stopped seeing him, I took her advice. 
  • A sociopathic retired Army officer who was planning to move into an amazing apartment with me until he suddenly disappeared without a trace. Later, his on-and-off girlfriend of 21 years contacted me through Facebook to fill me in about his history. I actually suspected that he told her to tell me.
  • And lastly but not leastly, an addict who showed me some of the worst behavior one can imagine. Toward the end of our relationship, I slept with a baseball bat next to my bed because I was afraid of him. 

So you see, there is no question that my picker is broken.  

How, then, does a person with such a ridiculously bad history of choosing a potential mate move forward and learn to find a suitable and safe partner? Beats me. I’d love to hear your thoughts! 


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