We don’t always necessarily find love where we think we will. Sometimes it finds us …
Unfortunately, I can’t take credit for this sentiment. I caught a lethal case of writers block a few days ago — no doubt an indication of art imitating life. I read it in a Times article about an elderly couple that got married at a Winter Festival. The Pisces in me can’t resist a good love story. Their story in particular resonated with me because I want what they have. I want the kind of love people write articles about because it’s that amazing … Or at least I think I do.
Meanwhile, let me just say that I’m exhausted. I’m tired of the game and if there were a button to tag myself out — I would gladly hit it. Gladly. I’m not so much in a mad dash to make it down the aisle, though I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have the bridal gene, if there is such a thing. After doing a little
drinking self diagnosing this afternoon, I discovered that I’ve been dating the same man. Over. And over. And over. And over.
Apparently I have a type. And that type is **Drum Roll** emotionally distant, charismatic, cultured, hot guy — accent optional. Emotionally distant, charismatic, cultured, hot guy comes in various shapes and sizes and is perhaps the most cunning of the male species. They wrote the book on resourceful and should you ever come in contact with him – Run, don’t walk, in the opposite direction. I mean it. Get the hell out of there (wherever there is) with the intensity of a lion hunting a pack of gazelles.
Why you ask?? Because emotionally distant, charismatic, cultured, hot guy is emotionally distant, charismatic, cultured, hot guy. Yes, the answer is in the name. And you know what? He’s not going to change. Is it possible? Maybe. Is it likely … probably not. And if he does change, it’ll be after you gathered your belongings and relocated to a land far, far away. Figuring this man out is like solving the riddle of the sphinx or decoding the messages of what’s his face Yoga, that little green guy with the pointy ears and webbed feet — Would that you would not want to date him?
While I of all people specifically understand this is much easier said than executed. I challenge – NAY — I command you to be vigilant and explore your options. Why not date responsible, emotionally available, slightly not dull, but definitely not outgoing personality, less attractive guy? This is the man who wants to give you “Sixteen Candles” moments. He will hold your hand and kiss you on the lips in public. He’ll hug you like he means it and make the effort. Why? Because that’s what he does. He’s that guy. Mr. Reliable on The Spot.
He understands that you could have chosen anyone, but you didn’t. You chose cardigan from J.Crew paired with khakis and loafers him. And because you did, he will spend the rest of his life proving you right. He’s Aiden Quinns character from Legends of the Fall. And after all isn’t that really what most of us want? Someone whose not afraid to stand up and be present. Someone who’s willing to say I choose you. Is that too much to ask for?? No, no it isn’t kids.
Sure, he may not be the guy rattling off one liners. As a matter of fact, he may not even talk at all. Maybe he’s Shy Ronnie. He’s content listening to you. Your voice sounds amazzzinnnng to him. He’s not going to be the guy that jet sets about town with you from gallery opening to hookah lounge to uber exclusive club that mere mortals haven’t heard of and could never, not even on their best day gain entry to.
He’s not that guy, but if you suggest it and have access to the beautiful cool people that run things in your city — he’ll definitely go, happily. He’ll go because he knows it matters to you. Don’t get me wrong, this guys not a mindless drone — quite the opposite. He is secure enough in himself, to let go and be happy. He understands that life is short and that if you don’t take advantage of a moment … the moment will pass you by. When he sees a good thing, he’s smart enough to hold on to it. And that is the difference between him and his counter part. He steps outside of himself, and looks at the bigger picture.
I understand this may all sound like a bit of a rant to some — but honestly I don’t care. Maybe I’m reaching here, but I’m not asking for the world. I’m not asking for emotionally distant, charismatic, cultured, hot guy to run out to Harry Winston and buy me a diamond tomorrow. But it would be nice to know why you’re so
fucked up distant. Seriously, who hurt you? Was it your girlfriend in 7th grade?? The sorority girl in undergrad — the one that boned your roommate that summer you were studying abroad (hence the culturedness)? Your next door neighbor … Who did this? Because whoever she is … I’m pretty sure I’m not her. And yet, I get to reap the benefits of her bull shit baggage.
Furthermore … Psst, *This just in* she’s moved on. No really, she did. She got tired of the game too and decided to marry responsible, emotionally available, slightly not dull, but definitely not outgoing personality, less attractive guy. And you know what else?? Your name never comes up; So why pray tell are you still letting her affect your life, which in turn sort of affects my life too. Or does it??
*Climbs off Soap box*
Last week I ran into LLF, a former emotionally distant, charismatic, cultured, hot guy I “dated” off and on for two years. LLF is a classic emotionally distant, charismatic, cultured, hot guy. It is his thing. For two years, we spent a considerable amount of time together. We attended events together … we cooked together … played together … brunched together … vacationed together. You get the gist … In other words, we were more than a couple of humans. And after a while it wasn’t enough — for me. LLF was weirded out by the “couple thing.”
He was on the hot and cold track and eventually, it got old. He was consistently inconsistent and I found it extremely annoying. Guys and dolls, never make someone a priority, that considers you an option. It also didn’t help that he screamed in a crowded bar “Why won’t you let me come inside of you” — as if that was EVER on the table. File under:
Period Sex Things that will never happen. And so I parted ways with him.
But I digress … So last week, I bumped into LLF at a bar in Sweet Home. Ironically, while I was waiting for NsSA, the current object of my affection – I think. LLF walked over and struck up a conversation as if we’d just seen each other earlier in the day.“Hey Pretty what are you doing here?” he asked. “Waiting on a friend” I said. “A guy? I saw you at Blah Blah during Christmas with some guy … Is that your boyfriend?” he asked. “Why?” I said “You jealous?” (Less we forget this is the same man who spent the last two years explaining how he wasn’t a “Relationship Guy”)
He continued to cross-examine me until finally breaking into a monologue about how he was ready commit. This would have been YEAR THREE – in case we’re counting …“I want you to be my wife” he said dropping to his knee. “Are you fucking kidding me right now!!” I said. “No! I can think of a thousand reasons you’d want to marry me and not one of why I should marry you — get up!” “I love you, and I want you to know that I want to marry you … Wouldn’t you want to be the first lady of all of this” he said in a sweeping motion with his hands.
It was all
bullshit an extreme show of theatrics. All of it. **Round of applause** It was a total show, and that in itself let me know that had my parents been first cousins I considered entertaining him I would have woken up on the set of ‘The Crying Game” the next morning. We spoke for a few minutes after that. He, trying to convince me to join him at a dinner in honor of his birthday and I humming Bitches Aint Shit in my head pretending to care.
A few minutes later, NsSA arrived – his coat, cold and damp from the winter rain. It was the first time I’d seen him in over a month and a half. I rose from my chair to greet him with a kiss and was met with a pointer finger to the lips. Yes, you read that correctly. He then used this same finger to explain that my lip gloss was
poppin sticky by dotting the back of my hand. D-bag Moves 101. “I don’t do PDA” he said. “I told you that” he explained giving me a “friendship hug” from the side.
The same man who made out with me 7th grade style a month prior, Heisman Handed my lips and followed up with a friendship hug. GTFOH. Yes, he had in fact mentioned that he “didn’t do PDA,” but I thought he was joking. Honestly, a month prior if there were a make-out whore award, he would have won it. A lot — no judgement.
While I’d never had a man put his fingers on my mouth (like that), something about NsSA’s demeanor felt eerily familiar. His announcement about PDA … the friendship hug … the leaning in close enough to be far away. Then it hit me. Whapppp! A bitch slap right across the heart. While LLF had vacated the premises, in that moment NsSA felt eerily similar to him.
It was around this time that NsSA made a comment about me being angry or mad. Having no inkling of the events of the past twenty minutes in that moment, it would have been awkward for me to air the skeletons in my closet, in that bar. Additionally, we’d also had a bit of a snafu the night before that hadn’t left me with warm fuzzies. Worst.non-date.hook-up.ever. And the Heisman hands/friendship hug definitely didn’t help our case. Consequently, I wasn’t in the best of moods. And I definitely didn’t see a point in telling him about running into LLF. He’s not the jealous type, but what would have been the point?
For me, the past can often dictate the outcome of the future … If in fact that is the case — then why do I keep having date ja vus?
Maybe its time for a paradigm shift …