The obsession I called love.

This is not a sad story.

But the last time I was in love with a woman, in 2016, I wasn’t really in love.

I was just making another human being responsible for my happiness.

Something I’d been doing for decades.

Forever.

And we all know how incredibly useless that is.

Ever since that last, disastrous encounter, almost 6 years ago, I have been on my own.

And it has been a pretty wild ride.

In that period, while licking half a lifetime of wounds, I kicked a few habits, outgrew my tendency to be depressed and anxious, wrote 8 books, quit my advertising job, became a coach, and discovered how to chill out sustainably.

Along the line, I also learned how to appreciate and express myself, and that’s where I am right now.

Happy.

Excited.

Curious.

In awe.

And single, solo, just me.

I am almost 54 and I have never had a healthy romantic relationship in my life.

Not once.

This has got nothing to do with the amazing women I have been with, because in many cases it was about my utter…