I say rub some dirt on it and get back in the game.
You got hurt. I'm sorry. It sucks, I know, because I've been there. Good god have I been there. We all have, every single one of us. Rejection and heartache are universal. There's a name for that: life.
So we lose someone and it hurts and we grieve for a while because grief is an agonizingly slow process. It might take a year or even two, but not five. At five years it's no longer grief, but a big ol' pity party where you're not only the host but the guest of honor, too. I can say that because I've thrown a few of my own over the years, so don't be offended.
Now you have a choice: sit at home feeling scared and sorry for yourself while life passes you by, or get back on the horse that threw you and show the f**ker who's boss. By avoiding further heartbreak you guarantee that your love life will never be any worse than it is right now. But it will also never be any better. If you're okay with that, fine. If you never want to date again, fine. Not everyone has to have a mate to be happy.
But if you do want to find love -- and I don't think you would've asked the question if you didn't -- you have to suck it up and get back out there and start living again. I can't tell you that you won't get hurt again. In fact, you probably will. Such is life. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? With each failed relationship we grow, we become wiser, and we learn something about ourselves, so it's not really a failure at all. Just practice runs.
The choice is yours: live or rot. Be brave or be alone (and risk becoming the crazy cat lady on your block). You might find true love tomorrow, or you might find it 20 years from now, but you sure as shit won't find it at home under a fleece throw eating Double Stuf Oreos and watching True Blood and America's Next Top Model. So pull up your knickers, brush your teeth, open the curtains and start living again. I think you'll find it's not nearly as scary out there as you think.