Ask for her number but don't ring...1 theory (III)

What was once an infinitely grand flourish, a fountain rising high into the morning air, sparkling gloriously in the full of the sun, an unconditional altruistic idealism which went way beyond romance, to the tiniest little quintessences of gentle, aching, poignant, passionate, sensitivity....is now...tired...stopped...nearly independent of conscious control. I just want peace. And quiet.
Though I think rarely of my last 'real' love, six months ago, it felt like the last door just shut in resignation. There's a difference between 'not being able to get back on' and 'not WANTING to get back on'...and I have somehow, ended up with the latter.
I've just got my son back legally 5 days a week, after the most heartbreaking absolute fight of my life...and I don't...we don't, need intrusions. Or upset. We don't need our routines disturbed for somebody who would ordinarily be given the keys to the palace, but will ultimately be just transient.
My son doesn't need his Dad ignoring him, chatting some shite on the phone to some temporary, when he has been patiently, and quietly waiting to have his bed time story read to him.
His needs matter most. Just like Max in "Where the wild things are"
He's not going to be just put aside and his gentle little wonderful needs ignored for a temporary nothing.
He matters WAY too much. He does. Kids do. It's our charge. It's our charge FROM LIFE. We're the adults. And we can't just abandon our kids. We can't walk out on them. We're the only ones able to stand up and fight for them, when they are too young to do it for themselves.

No Tim matters too much. And our own equilibrium matters way more than some passing moment of false, deluded passion anyway.

I can't exactly explain all that to the lovely Hungarian chemical engineer tomorrow though can I, before she goes home for the holidays?!

Where would I start and end...