Baby, it's cold in here

I've been accused of being "cold" by at least 3 guys I've dated in the past. I always snickered inside when I heard that, those little girly wimps. There's nothing wrong with being cold, if it means being able to figure out when it's time to end the relationship and move swiftly into and through the breakup. There's no reason whatsoever to dwell on the past; I've never been a mourner. Yes, I have regrets, but I cannot, will not, and do not revisit those regrets with "would'ves" and "should'ves." And because I don't mourn relationships, I don't get sad or angry or jealous. That's great. But I'm not sure I get deliriously, silly happy either. Maybe that notion of what is good existing only because of the existence of what is bad is true. Maybe God only exists because the devil exists (I hate this analogy, because I'm not sure there is a God, much less a devil, and even if both did exist, it still doesn't make God seem all that good all the time). Maybe the cool breeziness of autumn exists only because of the sweltering heat of summer. Maybe clean laundry exists only because you have to go through the horror of sorting, stain-removing, washing, drying, folding, and putting away.

I'll be 35 soon. What am I doing? Where am I going? What does friendship mean? What does trusting another human being entail? Where do I begin and my fears end?