Somewhere out there...

I begin today with a warning, it might seem like a bit of a digression, but please bear with me. Today I am telling a condensed version of the searching years, but it is a necessary chapter to further and hopefully someday complete my tale.
After my Scottish guy left Memphis for the last time, to my knowledge, I went through a very painful, heartbreaking time, and even now, I still feel a paing of heartbreak when I look to the sky, but that isn't the point. Since then I have had two serious... or long relationships, however you wish to look at it. The first one was while I was still living in Memphis, TN. Lets call him Memphis Maniac, because that sort of sums it up. I started dating him soon after I finished college. We worked together, and for some reason I felt that he needed me in his life. He was too skinny, depressed, had horrible views of the world and my maternal nature wanted desparately to take care of him; to fix him. I am not sure if the relationship was so much convenient as it was my need to love and nurture. I know now that I probably should have just went out and bought a puppy, because at least those you can train.
However, we dated for a year and a half... and let's just be honest, I wondered for most of it why we were still dating. We never went on dates and when we did, he never planned them. There is something to be said for spontenity, but there is also something to be said for even once planning the evening before it was time to pick me up. But, I digress. For the majority of the relationship, we watched movies, we played the Wii, which, thank God and Nintendo for that wonderful invention. He was rude to my friends, lazy as a hound dog, and JEALOUS. All of these things are usually quite the turn off for me... and they were with him too, but somehow I convinced myself that I could fix him. I didn't. Not that I didn't try, but old habits die hard and you can't even teach a dog a trick if it isn't willing to learn.
So... I moved to NYC. I had been saying that I would for years, and I finally I did, just like that. I gave everyone at home two weeks notice, including the Memphis Maniac, packed some bags and left. Maybe I was running away, but I justified with the fact that I was gonna go anyway... it just had to be then.
He and I "stayed together" for almost three months after I moved and then I finally said that I just couldn't be in a relationship with him anymore. And we didn't speak until three months later when I went home for a visit and called him to get my stuff. We met up, had coffee and then went our separate ways. I thought to myself... wow that was easy.
And then it wasn't. He suddenly remembered my number... and used it alot. He called me 5,6 and even up to 10 times a day. He said things about moving to NYC so he could be with me. He wrote me novels in the form of text messages and my phone bills became astronomical. Finally, I did what I had to do. I changed my number. Twice actually because somehow he figured out the first one. Finally, after he came to NYC, went to my work and asked for me, (NO, I didn't happen to be there), it was done. I never heard from him again. So... that was my first relationship experience after the love of my life got himself a girlfriend. Stay tuned for tommorrow where I will share the joys of my second post Scottish guy relationship... Maui Mental Case.
Until then my friends, and remember, this is only a minor, yet necessary digression.