Since no one reads this blog---it is kind of a good thing. I can fully express my emotions without sounding like the complete whiny ass that I am and being embarrassed by someone reading such personal drivel. I'm not the most revealing of persons, but I feel that writing this down might help me to heal some old wounds and some new. Well, here goes---my quasi-innermost thoughts. I find that this might be very therapeutic. (The names have been changed to protect the innocent, the not-so innocent, and the slightly unsure.)*
Throughout me life, I seem to be the only person I know that cannot really ever catch a break in love relationships. I have friends that treat their men like crap, cheat on them, but they are still adored and work it out. People find me charming and engaging, but never do anything about it. Married male friends have told me that I would make a great girlfriend. One in particular told me in front of his wife that if he weren't married, he'd be with me. (That was awkward) I am often the life of the party, but then the party always comes to an end.
Let me back up and clarify--I have not been able to maintain the balance in my life that I strive for and that is having a successful work life and having someone to call my own. I hate dating and the falseness and awkwardness of being your best in front of a stranger--your best dress, your best makeup, your best hair and your best smile when most human beings are not always their best 100% of the time. Maybe 60% of the time. How on earth can anyone know me when I hardly know myself! And by "being my best?" What is my best? Not only this, but it is an extremely awkward situation to throw two strangers together who are desperately trying to impress the other and hoping there is chemistry.
Ahhh, chemistry, the elusive, for me at least or often one-sided, element that is a qualifier for most people that have no intention of settling. In my teens, before my mother allowed me to date and in my 20's, I held the staunch feminist view that I would damn well not settle, but would be with someone I loved beyond reason, that if he left me I would be crushed, I would have the soul-shattering numbness of heartbreak. Why? Because I effing deserved love like that. I'm kind to people, like kids and animals, loved my very imperfect parents, did well in school and smiled at strangers. After my one and only serious relationship that led to an engagement that subsequently broke off, partly because he was more for me something to do and have, I didn't have the feeling that if he left me, I would be crushed or have the soul shattering numbness that comes with heartbreak. I didn't feel for him the way I felt I should and the way he felt for me--planning to embark on a future together---so I refused to settle.
Well, after that was done, my parents passed away and with that so did a part of myself. Death is always and will always be a part of life, but theirs so close together left me in a bit of a tailspin and was life changing. I started reevaluating myself and my choices, my aloneness or forced independence. During this reevaluation of myself, enter "Shawn."* He snuck into my life by coincidence and was a surprise companion for the better part of 6 years. Now when I say companion, I don't want anyone to get the wild and wacky idea that we were a couple. He was a great companion, going to movies, going to out-of-town concerts, doing repairs on my house, going overseas and driving across the US, we were even FWB for 6 months --- but there was just one thing; one very BIG important thing. He didn't love me the way I loved him. I loved him beyond reason, unconditionally. Throughout those 6 years, he would hold my hand, cuddle, tell me that he would miss me if I ever went away and made plans for us as if we were a couple. He blurred the line of our relationship and left an ambiguity there that left me confused, but in my own naive way, I rationalized it because I couldn't bear not being with him. I posed the question of what exactly is going on with us several times and most of those times ended up with me blubbering on the sofa, or in my room or someplace else feeling humiliated. He loved me, but wasn't in love with me. We remained friends even after that. I was the perpetual friend, the best friend---always a friend, but never the mate.
After 6 years or so after I thought I was over all the nonsense of being in love with the best friend, I was slapped in the face with the realization that I wasn't over it and I would never want to just be his friend. So, I did the unthinkable (for me, at least) and left him. I took the cowards way out and cut him off via email. I returned my key to his house and returned his clothes, movies and books that we shared. I broke up with him and was broken, soul shatteringly so. I didn't speak to him for more than two years, maintaining the self-imposed gulf between us. I made a big-girl decision that left me adrift in the middle of an ocean, no paddles, no land in sight. Which made me wonder, did this self-inflicted pain cost me more than just staying in that relationship that was emotionally ravaging only to me?
I couldn't even wrap my mind around speaking to him. Over those two years or so, I stuck my toe in the water and emailed him a couple times, but with no response. Oh well. And so life trudges on. I'm an independent sort of girl--independence. Is independence the new black? Is it what we tell ourselves we are when everyone around us has a life that is fulfilled with a partner, a family and you are no longer high on their priority list due to all of the above. Is independence just aloneness cloaked in pride, fake self-confidence and a need for greater self-worth? I tend to think that for me it is a combination of the last two. I'm usually surrounded by people, but one does not have to be alone to be alone, or independent, take your pick. Independence for me means table for one, movie for one, seat for one, concert for one, no kiss and cuddle for one; for one can fuck off.
I tend to instantly know when I like someone, when they stand out to me, when that certain something that makes them unique catches my attention---but that doesn't happen often, maybe once every few years, but it always ends the same---they don't feel the same or something or other, I make an awesome friend. There have been times when interested fellows become a big fan of moi, but there was never a match. I ran hot and cold about them, or they weren't funny, or intelligent, or could hold my attention---is this what dating is all about? I hate it! My other problem is that I'm the chick that guys want to be friends with. If I had a dollar for every time some really nice, attractive, intelligent, funny man told me that I'm awesome and great to be with and hang out with (platonic) I would have quite a bit of moolah. Even a speed dating event can't stop my friendly charms. Picked a guy I found interesting, he picked me, but wanted me to hang out with him and his other friends. This pattern has repeated itself over and over. Should I transform myself into someone I'm not, some simpering, eyelash-batting, flirty, superficial thing spouting thinly-veiled innuendo? Would this make the distinction between hanging out at an amusement park with pals or having a romantic evening with just the two of us? If I ever turned into that I would die inside.
Not only is it disheartening to find someone in which you feel comfortable, safe, excited to see, ecstatic when you do see him, and can't wait till the next time you see him, someone who makes you laugh, even when its not even that funny, someone that knows things that you have no clue about, someone that is the same yet very different, someone you feel understands you and your quirks, someone that you could just look at and makes you smile, someone you want to cuddle with on the sofa while watching absolutely nothing, someone you want to do really bad (but oh so good) things to. When I meet that someone, I find the f-word staring me in the face, while the Cake song flits through my head, to me coming from you, friend is a 4-letter word, I feel as if I've been shown the moon and stars and then slapped in the face with the dreaded f-word and told, "Look what you can't have, look, take a good look, you can't have it." I can't have the chance to finally be happy with someone that appreciates me, that could see me as a friend as well as a lover.
It seems so easy for everyone else. Couples everywhere, me---look what I can't have.
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