To begin, let me introduce myself. My name is Cathy Cannon and I am a 34-year-old single woman. I am, by all accounts, a pretty awesome person. I’m funny, I’m smart, caring and kind blah blah blah. The fact that I remain single is perplexing to most who know me, but I am here now to tell you, it’s really not. Frankly, it’s by design – I just didn’t know it until now.

See, about nine years ago I went through a horrible breakup followed by the worst possible year of my life. Between the beginning of 2006 and the end of 2007 my life completely changed, and for most of 2007, spun hopelessly out of control. So that is where we begin the string of guys I have dated for the sole purpose of ending the relationship. I was so destroyed, so distraught, that I couldn’t allow myself to be truly vulnerable, open, or in love with anyone. So I dated guys that I would have never dated otherwise. I watched them begin to fall for me, and at the first signs of affection and/adoration a switch would click in my head and I would systematically tank the whole thing, then act wounded when it was over. Looking back at it now, it almost seems as though I was doing to this to endlessly punish myself for some perceived sin for which I felt I needed atonement.

After a while I got so good at it, I didn’t realize I was doing it anymore. Truthfully I have never really had any regret for the guys I have let go. I knew in beginning of our adventure that there was no chance, so I was really just killing time – continuing to date to keep people from thinking I had given up, and I guess in a way so I could have a “go to” complaint whenever I felt lost, and sad and couldn’t explain why. This gave me something to point towards as the reason for my sadness. When truthfully, I was just depressed, and ashamed to admit that. I had to have someone around all the time, so I had someone to lash out at when things got too much for me. For that, I am disappointed in myself. But as I write this, I do regret one thing.

The last guy that went through this carnival of crazy with me, was probably the guy. I felt so comfortable and at ease with him. We clicked right away, and I knew he liked me. For a minute I smiled and thought that this could be amazing. Then, as I drove home from his house one night, I doomsday-ed the entire thing in my head, and so began the systematic plot to drive him away and hurt myself as a twisted means of protecting myself. What’s worse, is that in doing so, I may have unknowingly given his misgivings merit, and inadvertently turned him into me.

So, to all the ex’s out there: while I regret that I may have hurt you, I can’t apologize. All is fair in love and war after all, and if it’s any consolation to you, I am my worst victim.