Remember that scene in "Bridget Jones's Diary" where she's thinking about being alone, and imagining that one day she'll be eaten by dogs and nobody will notice? I can relate to that after this weekend. It was one of those quiet times (which are so rare, I work with college students and weekends are normally no different from regular days) and I basically holed up in my apartment and slept. It was nice not to be bothered, but kind of depressing in a way. It's actually possible to go forty-eight hours without speaking to anyone. Living alone can be a blessing--you can walk around naked when you get out of the shower; nobody notices when you don't take the trash out for a day or two; drinking straight out of the orange juice carton is perfectly acceptable. But it sucks in its own way. When you feel like shit, nobody's there to bring you soup. Grocery shopping is a major pain; nothing is made for one, and then when you get home you have to cart everything inside by yourself. Cooking feels pointless.
I guess I'm just still moody from The Boy's departure. He used to fill a void. Now there's an empty hole. Granted, he was a lousy boyfriend. But crappy companionship sometimes seems favorable to no companionship at all. My girlfriends are terrific, but they can't take the place of intimacy. I'm good at relationships. At least I think so. My tragic flaw is my inability to pick the right guys to have them with. Nothing unusual about that. Nothing unusual about feeling sorry for yourself, either. I know nobody reads these rambles, but it makes me feel a little better to send them out into the universe. I'm sure thousands can relate. We single people need to form a vast network. To remind each other that we're really not alone, and to share our common miserable thoughts. In a world that moves in twos, singlehood is almost a disability. Maybe we need an amendmant to the constitution that protects us. From things like stares when you arrive at the movies dateless, or from meddling friends who set you up with lousy guys because they can't stand to see you alone. Anybody else think that's a good idea?
Peace out...
Peacegrrl
Sunday, May 23, 2004
Saturday, May 22, 2004
Being Dumped
This is my first post, so I'll share a little about what's going on in my life right now. I've been dumped. The quasi-relationship that I've been entrapped in for months is now, officially and irrevocably, over. I suppose I should be happy. When I knew that the inevitable was coming, that The Boy was going to cut and run pretty soon, I started making lists. You know, kind of like a pro- and con- type thing.
Cons: He drinks too much. Sometimes he doesn't wash his hair. He breaks promises. I don't like his driving. He's always broke. He's scatterbrained. He's a procrastinator. The list went on and on, and I started thinking, what the hell was I doing with this guy in the first place? So I moved on to the pros: He's sexy, in his own sort of rugged way. He's smart. He makes me laugh. And that was all I could come up with.
I started wondering about love. My friend A. is so practical--the guy she's with is financially stable, smart, and he cooks. She says there's no amazing passion, but that's okay. She wants to be safe and happy. She went through a number of guys just like The Boy, guys with little or no ambition, who were great to roll around with but really didn't have much of a future. And she simply cast them aside and continued on her quest for something better. I can't seem to do that. I always get this urge to rehabilitate, thinking that maybe I see something in these guys that nobody else sees. That if I stick it out, the great person they're destined to be will come out. That my dedication and loyalty will pay off and I'll be truly loved. Plus I get caught up in the good sex, too.
And where has it left me? "I can't commit. I just want to go out there and find out who I am." "I'm just not sure how I feel about you." "Yes, I said that you were all I'd ever need, and I really meant it at the time." The lame-ass excuses, the crafted bullshit that really comes down to one thing: I'm not the one.
I'm still in the "anger" phase of my grieving process over this relationship. I mean, I know The Boy was bad news, but I spent so damn much time with him that he became part of my daily life--and now he's gone. It's awful how, when I'm left behind, I try to cut that person out of my life in every way I can think of--deleting his cell phone number, throwing out pictures of him, avoiding the smell of his cologne--and yet reminders of him are absolutely everywhere, in every song on the radio, in places we used to go, restaurants where we ate (where I picked up the tab, of course). I can't get away from the guy! I'm moving away in two months, to a new city, a new state, and maybe, FINALLY, I'll get some peace.
My question is this, and it's not a new one: Why do men have to be such assholes? If you don't have feelings for us, why aren't you just honest up front? Why do you string us along? Don't you understand that we're always holding out hope? I wonder, is it because you don't have the guts to tell us how you really feel, or is it because the sex is THAT good? I just don't get it. A quarter of a century on this planet, a zillion relationships, and I am no closer to understanding the opposite sex than I was on the day I was born. I feel like time has been wasted.
Worst of all: I've forgotten how to navigate the dating minefield. I don't remember the rules, my "i'm being hit on" radar is shot to hell, and I don't even know how to flirt anymore! Shit. Are the men in Ohio as clueless as the men in Texas? I hope not. I'll cheer myself, momentarily, with the thought that I'm moving on to greener pastures.
-Peacegrrl
Cons: He drinks too much. Sometimes he doesn't wash his hair. He breaks promises. I don't like his driving. He's always broke. He's scatterbrained. He's a procrastinator. The list went on and on, and I started thinking, what the hell was I doing with this guy in the first place? So I moved on to the pros: He's sexy, in his own sort of rugged way. He's smart. He makes me laugh. And that was all I could come up with.
I started wondering about love. My friend A. is so practical--the guy she's with is financially stable, smart, and he cooks. She says there's no amazing passion, but that's okay. She wants to be safe and happy. She went through a number of guys just like The Boy, guys with little or no ambition, who were great to roll around with but really didn't have much of a future. And she simply cast them aside and continued on her quest for something better. I can't seem to do that. I always get this urge to rehabilitate, thinking that maybe I see something in these guys that nobody else sees. That if I stick it out, the great person they're destined to be will come out. That my dedication and loyalty will pay off and I'll be truly loved. Plus I get caught up in the good sex, too.
And where has it left me? "I can't commit. I just want to go out there and find out who I am." "I'm just not sure how I feel about you." "Yes, I said that you were all I'd ever need, and I really meant it at the time." The lame-ass excuses, the crafted bullshit that really comes down to one thing: I'm not the one.
I'm still in the "anger" phase of my grieving process over this relationship. I mean, I know The Boy was bad news, but I spent so damn much time with him that he became part of my daily life--and now he's gone. It's awful how, when I'm left behind, I try to cut that person out of my life in every way I can think of--deleting his cell phone number, throwing out pictures of him, avoiding the smell of his cologne--and yet reminders of him are absolutely everywhere, in every song on the radio, in places we used to go, restaurants where we ate (where I picked up the tab, of course). I can't get away from the guy! I'm moving away in two months, to a new city, a new state, and maybe, FINALLY, I'll get some peace.
My question is this, and it's not a new one: Why do men have to be such assholes? If you don't have feelings for us, why aren't you just honest up front? Why do you string us along? Don't you understand that we're always holding out hope? I wonder, is it because you don't have the guts to tell us how you really feel, or is it because the sex is THAT good? I just don't get it. A quarter of a century on this planet, a zillion relationships, and I am no closer to understanding the opposite sex than I was on the day I was born. I feel like time has been wasted.
Worst of all: I've forgotten how to navigate the dating minefield. I don't remember the rules, my "i'm being hit on" radar is shot to hell, and I don't even know how to flirt anymore! Shit. Are the men in Ohio as clueless as the men in Texas? I hope not. I'll cheer myself, momentarily, with the thought that I'm moving on to greener pastures.
-Peacegrrl
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