Without Fear

Madman is happier alone, and I am happier not trying to teach him how to be half of a relationship. I suppose I will always love him, but what good is loving someone if you're both miserable together? We're better friends, and, after a week of being without one another, have finally come to that agreement.
Naturally, my heart took about two days of pain before it was hopeful again. It's a mixed blessing, recovering from heartbreak like I do. While I know myself ridiculously well, I know it looks to everyone else like I'm constantly rebounding.
Today, though, I stopped worrying about that.
I met someone, admittedly through the internet, who I really thought would be no more than a friend. With such a rough week, by Friday night, all I wanted was to be around people again. So, Mr. Nice Guy, with whom I share an MOS (military occupational specialty) and a great deal of mutual acquaintances, as it turned out, invited me to come over to watch a movie. Had we not known so many of the same people and been talking so much like old friends, I wouldn't have agreed. Over the span of a weekend, I realized how good it felt to be close to someone, to be accepted and held and talked to. Mr. Nice Guy is anything but "my type". He is so goofy and nerdy it astounds me, thick glasses and all, but I have never relaxed around someone so much so fast... There was no question of him disrespecting or putting me down. We clicked, immediately and completely, and I find myself laughing and smiling constantly with him... I can talk to him honestly and openly about things, even things that involve other men. I feel safe and cared for and absolutely wanted when I'm with him. He's every bit as affectionate and goofy and sweet as anybody I could have dreamed. He is, in some ways, my opposite, though, as he has a shy streak a mile wide and is far less verbal with his affection than I am. His compliments often come out awkwardly and frequently only once he's had the time to think through it all and phrase it just the way he wants. It all amuses impulsive, open, outgoing me, but it also takes me to a level of flattered that astounds me. He is what every mother dreams her daughter will bring home, and what every father wants his son to be. He understands mechanics, likes guns, is big and solid and muscular, incredibly smart, and has great manners. He's also startlingly observant, which is something that will, inevitably, throw me. He sees my reactions to every word and movement, and responds, without being asked, to all of them.
Madman has a way of making me feel broken and damaged, as, I suspect, he takes some amount of his identity from what pains he's experienced. I don't want to do that. I don't want to be the person who holds on to the past, though I think I have a bit too much up until now. I don't want to feel broken anymore, I've spent enough of my life trying to heal. It's time to start living again, and to stop trying to figure out what is wrong with me. I am human, I will never be perfect, and I'm okay with that.
I haven't attended any Baha'i community events in several months now. I sent a long, rather pointed email to a fellow Baha'i who consistently pushed me to do more with the community, and, several times, implicated that I hadn't done this/that/the other simply out of laziness or not wanting to. His idea of how we might best reach out to people and mine are clearly very different, but this is, frankly, a very conservative Baha'i community. I respect even the most strict tenets of my Faith, but I believe, even more strongly, in the message that has been   forgotten and/or missed for so many centuries that is such a central focus to the Baha'i faith: LOVE ABOVE ALL ELSE. So long as I love my fellow man, and do my best to help and teach and guide others, I am doing right by God. I've known this in my heart all my life, and, while I have every intention of helping with community responsibilities, I don't believe that completing every Ruhi book known to man and being on every committee there is would be the best use of the talents and strengths God gave me. I have always preferred diversity and openness. I respect all faiths, races and walks of life, and will always do my absolute best to bring them together. I simply don't lean towards the school of thought that assemblies, committees and organizations are required to help people. Sometimes being an example to others does more than all the fundraisers one person could handle.
That's the way I see it.