"Now, Voyager"

The sage advice of Philip Galanes, as a seeker of his advice concludes the request with: 

Obviously, I want nothing more to do with him, but I absolutely need to let him know that his behavior was despicable. What would be the best way to do this?

. . . what good can possibly come from further engagement with this fool, other than giving him the pleasure of knowing that he got under your skin? You are not his teacher. (Or at least I hope you aren’t. That would open a different can of worms.) Do not write to him again, and do not reply to future texts. Only rarely is it worthwhile to circle back to crime scenes (other than for Mark Harmon on “NCIS”) or soured romances. Keep bad boyfriends in your rearview mirror.

Do dates of the past have such a grip upon the ruminations of all, or is it just me? I wonder at times if the ponderings of both the pleasant and unpleasant experiences of my dating decade are similarly harmful. 

It has certainly been an education. My innocent, wide-eyed, gee-whiz view of the world has certainly morphed, thanks to dating. There have been outings which left me energized, others traumatized. There were conversations where I was the epitome of wit and a master of the riposte, while others I was the essence of verbal clumsiness. Looking back, there were many interactions over which I alternatively crow and cringe.

But I don't want to bring a Millenium Falcon's load in baggage with each new opportunity. After all, this new someone can't help it if there was a Boba Fett or Greedo that got to my spleen before he did. I would hope he doesn't hold his dating past against me. 

The untold want, by life and land ne'er granted,

Now, Voyager, sail thou forth, to seek and find.

                                 —Walt Whitman

 

So I should look forward . . . after judiciously selecting top moments from the last ten years on how to keep conversation light and pleasant.