Holding My Hand Over a Burning Stove

Why I’ve never given up on dating.

We all know the adage about knowing better than to put your hand back on a burning stove. We’re all warned about what will happen. We should all know better.

There’s a problem with that, though. That stove is mine. More than that, I lit that flame. I let it get hot to the point where it burned me when I touched it.

Last year, I had a relationship that ended in a rather mortifying manner. I’ve gone on some of the weirdest and worst first dates. I’ve dated men who treated me with contempt and dismissal. I’ve melted the skin right off my hand touching that stove. It’s been a bit of pain.

Several times I’ve wanted to not just turn off the stove but to rip it out of the wall, drag it to the corner and wait for someone to haul it away. Get it away from me.

I realized something, though.

I don’t want to reduce my life to a tragic appliance sitting unwanted in my yard for everyone to drive by and stare at it and wonder what the hell happened.