I care about the women I date.
I want us to enjoy our time together laughing, playing, discussing.
I want to learn something about and from them, just as I hope they learn something about and from me.
I want to enrich their lives by being in it, not suck the life out of it.
I want to know and love someone deeply.
At the same time, I don’t care.
I don’t care if they dislike me.
I don’t care if they disagree or argue with me.
I don’t sit at home crying when they don’t text me back after a first date.
My world does not collapse if they ‘just aren’t that in to me’.
My sense of worth does not diminish when rejected, and I try not to let my ego inflate when accepted.
My pursuit of being the best I can be and following my own moral compass and guiding principles does not alter depending on the action of others.
My life may or may not involve them, and I trust my instinct to let me know when is the right time to hold on and when to let go.
I care, but I don’t care.