Plenty Of Fish But My Net’s Made For Basketball
Warning: The following post may be rambling, self-pitying, maudlin, confused, embarrassing and random. (Just like all the others.)
Used to, when I couldn’t sleep in the middle of the night because my brain wouldn’t stop grinding, I’d go out on the balcony and smoke. Now I just get up and blog. How boring. It sucks going straight.
One of the things I’ve been working on in therapy is how to know what I want and need in romantic relationships. I’m terrible at these things. I approach relationships like a 14-year-old most of the time. (I doodle his name in purple ink in my Trapper Keeper!) Relationships are just not something I have a lot of experience with. The stuff most girls learn through experience in their teens, I just didn’t experience. Believe it or not, the boys weren’t really knocking down the door to date the county’s best female shot putter who carried her Bible to school in a leather case every day. (I got my Jesus-phase and my nutso-phase confused.) I probably would’ve been much more popular in high school if I’d been a drunk then! Wasted days and wasted nights….
I’ve had two long-term relationships. I was married for ten years. And I lived with a boyfriend for five years. There’s never been any real casual dating or playing the field in my life. Because prospects have always been so few and far between, I always get embarrassingly anxious when one appears. And I think I read signs badly. I can’t ever tell if he’s just being nice or if he’s interested in me. And my mind is full of all those things you’re “supposed” or “not supposed” to do. And those things never seem to match up with what I feel like I want to do. But I’m ashamed to admit that what I usually want to do is pounce on top of him with all fours and yell “MINE!” like a three-year-old. I’m so afraid I’ll let the right one get away. (Or maybe just let one get away.) It makes me a basket case and I think it makes me desperate and clingy and pathetic. And it makes me want to move way too fast before the opportunity passes.
How do people just date casually and non-chalantly, as if every bit of their self-esteem isn’t resting on someone else’s approval? How do people not crave love and affection and approval (and snogging) as desperately as I do? How do I, as strong and confident as I am in all other facets of my life, continually feel stupid, and fawning and stumbling when I deal with men I’m interested in? And why do I care so much anyway?
So what do I want and need? I’ve never even tried to make a list. But I think it’s starting to come together. I want to be loved and held and listened to. I want a man who’s dependable and honest and open. I want a man with a good job. I want a man who’s smart and funny and open-minded. I need a man who thinks I’m beautiful. I need a man who is empathetic and cares about others. I need a man who does little things to show me he cares. I need a man who can be there when I need him. I need a man who surprises me from time to time. I need a man who really hears and remembers the important things I say. I need a man with a big heart.
I need to go to sleep. It’s 1:30am.
So for the guy I glitter tooted tonight via text. I apologize. I’m trying to figure it out. I’m trying to be all cool and composed and hard and casual and funny and patient. But mostly I’m just fucked up and confused and anxious. (And doesn’t this just sound like a note somebody would have passed you on a folded up piece of notebook paper in 10th grade geometry?)
Nothing to see here. Move along. I’ll regret posting this more in the morning than I regretted those Friday mornings at 5am when I was still out on the balcony chasing beers with Bloody Marys even though I had to get up and go to work.
– Brene’ Brown is a liar. Nothing good comes from vulnerability and honesty, just sleeplessness, self-doubt and embarrassment.
– Relationships are the place where all my weaknesses converge.
– I’m waaaaaaaay too old for this to be keeping me awake this late.