Adventures in Dating Land

I’m always coming down, but I’m doing my best to get caught.

Posted on: October 10, 2008

“How happy are the blameless vessels’ lot, the world forgetting by the world forgot. Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, every pray’r accepted, and each wish resign’d.” -Alexander Pope

Weren’t we all told a whole lot of lies as a kid? Mostly about love. At least, that’s what I think about. It’s all a big conspiracy. Valentine’s Day, (now another tacked on with Sweetest Day, like we needed ANOTHER holiday to wallow in our loneliness.) Or maybe it’s not a conspiracy. Maybe it’s a bunch of people that want to believe something really is true. If we didn’t believe in love, what would we believe in? If we were certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that love was a lie and that no one can ever really be happy, what would there be to live for? Money? Careers? All temporary. Not lasting. Not fulfilling. Not something that can hold you in the middle of the night when you’re scared or sad. Not something you can take stupid pictures with and laugh about the same things a million times and for whatever reason it keeps getting funnier.

If we didn’t believe in love, in one way or another, we wouldn’t have a reason to live.

Because that’s got to be the only reason I keep going. I mean, let’s look at the tally:

  1. Boy 1- I was a doof and broke his heart.
  2. Boy 2- Had no business dating that creep in the first place, and he undeservedly had the opportunity to break my heart.
  3. Boy 3- Please. Really? I mean…he was just a shnicklefritz. WHO picks a fight with someone WITH their family on Thanksgiving Day?! Moreover, WHO in God’s name comes to meet their girlfriends’ FAMILY in SWEATPANTS?!
  4. Boy 4/Boy 5- Let’s just say….six years of on and off drama between me and 4, the first five being him treating me like a reusable washcloth and the sixth being me unconsciously retaliating with an attempt at Boy 5….pretty much an unsalvagable shipwreck with no survivors.
  5. Boy 6- Almost as bad as 3 except for the fact that my parents actually liked him…that is, before he stomped all over me with sickeningly sweet lies and his utter cowardice.

That’s all within the span of three years. Three to four, actually…but still. I’m not counting any high school relationships, because that was mostly all about me being a flirt and a tease, and nothing is ever serious in high school unless you’re an emotionally stunted idiot.

Why is it that I can never concentrate on what I should be doing? I should be working…yet I’m doing this. I should not be thinking about romance or men at all because I should be focused on school and moving out of my parents’ house (for good.) But I’m lost in all this. I want to be more than that. Is this all women really are, a product of their emotions? Lead around by hormones. Hormone slaves; just like men but without the raging libidos and the emotional maturity of teaspoons.

Have you ever noticed how dead romance is? That brings me back to conspiracy theory. Movies, books, etc….they’re full of random chances and fate and romantic dialogue and flirtatiousness. Real life doesn’t involve any of that. It’s all blunt and cold and devoid of poetry. Do musicians ever even mean the words they write anymore? Or were they too scared to say them at the time, and every song is just filled with the regret at what could have been?


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