Dear Followers of this Blog of Mine,
Would you allow me a moment of your time to rant? Just a moment......Oh? I can?
I have been living in the land of the single peoples for over two years now. And during my tenure in this wilderness of loneliness and despair, I have come across all sort of odd creatures.
The guy who has THE WALL. This Wall Guy seems nice. He engages you. He's charming. And he will listen to every sob story you have to tell, but he will never, ever let you IN. That proverbial wall that he has built up around his heart is stronger than Fort Knox. Day and night he arms this wall with the most terrifying kamikaze pilots that ever lived. He will visit your house. Make you laugh. Eat your cooking. Smile at your children. And then one day......disappear. Forever to remain a mystery like the Lost City of Atlantis. No explanation.
He was a tough one to get past. This man made me analyze every conversation, every chuckle, laugh, sniff, burp, sneeze, kiss, silent head nod that was exchanged between us. Was I too much? Was I not enough? Should I have let him in more? Did he not like my cooking? Was my back rub terrible? Blah. Blah. Blah. Finally, over several glasses of wine and Conway Twitty playing in the background, I decided it wasn't me. It was him. He had issues. Damn him to hell in a purple rain basket.
Now, in previous blogs, I have often mentioned The Holy Grail. Every single woman will encounter a specimen of this nature. He's the best looking guy you've ever met. His smile disarms nuns, causing loss of underwear everywhere he goes. He has huge eyes that he trains on you. They bore into your soul until your heart, along with your virtue, melt into a puddle at his perfectly sized feet. He engages you. Tells you the most personal of stories. Tears up at the mere mention of that one time long ago when no one understood him. He hugs you tight and inhales your scent. He leaves you breathless. And as you maneuver your way home from your perfect date with the perfect man, you image your life together. The Holy Grail is the one that listens to your stories. He reviews your history with you and makes you feel like you are going to be ok. You fall madly in love with him. He feels connected to you. Only to be told one day that his is....busy. So, you wait. Of course you wait for your perfect man. Your Holy Grail. At first you do it patiently. Because, after all, he is THE ONE. But days turn into weeks and weeks often morph into months. And pretty soon you are waiting anxiously. This all happened to me. This was a rough one. This heart break made me swear off all relationships for good. I would forever take a lover in the night. I swore I would embrace my inner slut and just have at it. Damn him. Damn them all, I yelled over multiple bottles of wine while listening to Al Green sing about being tired of being alone. He's not The Holy Grail. He's the Devil in disguise. A sheep in Armani wolf clothing. I hope he gets constipated and develop hemorrhoids that need surgical removal but his anaesthesia wares off in the middle, so for the rest of his days he will never be able to sit on a chair comfortably again.
Then I ran into the guy with the attitude. He's nice to you. Comes over. Makes you laugh. Takes you out. He rocks. Happy with just a hot pocket and a pepsi. Watches movies. Contacts you to see how you are. Then one night he comes to visit. One night he visits when a relative is there. His attitude emerges. He doesn't like to meet people.
Really? In my house? Right.
Then there's The Friend. He is the sweetest guy known to all. There is not a single person who does not like him. Poems are written about how he's such a good father. A swell guy. He laughs at your jokes. He kisses you passionately. He's there at the exact moment you need him. It looks like things could be working. Things might be building. And then he springs it on you.....on me. There's no spark, he says. Different parts in our lives, he explains.
Nice Guy 1. Ego 0.
So, in my quest for companionship (Because, let's face it, I hate cats. I'll never be able to collect enough to be considered the Crazy Cat Lady) I decided to be more direct. Taking the o'le bull by his sagging balls, so to speak. What are you looking for? I'd ask. Why are you single? They'd shoot back. The guys in my range, the ones looking for some way out of the jungle of single life, all seem to be ok at first. But, normally on the second round of the interview process, it always turns to sex.
What do you like in the bedroom? Is the most common question posed these days. While I am not offended in the least, I would like to point out that at one point in our social lives, it was almost unheard of to be asked that question so soon in a brand new relationship. I know it's an important question. Sexual compatibility can make or break a union at any point. Especially one still in the infant stages. But, there are more important things out there than that. At least to me. I want to know why you weigh every word carefully before you answer my question. Why do you avoid crowds? Are you like me and can't handle the energy of it all? Have you always done the nervous thing with your thumbs? You know, the twirling of them. I want to know these things. I want to know what drew you to me. After I've learned all these things, then we can discuss whether I will dress up as Wonderwoman and call you Mr. Monkey Pants or not.
All I'm saying dear, sweet followers is that navigating the rain forest of single life is treacherous. It's heart breaking, emotionally scarring, drag-your-hands-over-your-eyes-til-the-tears-fall horrible. But, if you find the RIGHT ONE. The one that looks at you and sees you and accepts you and all your quirks, then it's worth it. Traveling through the sea of wrong ones will eventually bring you to the right one. To the one who makes it all complete.
And that's why I keep plugging along.