WARNING: Major Brain Dump Ahead
This will not be cohesive. This will be long. This will not be fun for me. But this needs to happen. Because itās time. I havenāt done a bloggery in forever. Iām going to share things that have been living in my brain hole, taking up space that I should be using for productivity, and I need to clear some of this shit out, to let the new shit in. Iām going to say unkind things about myself and youāre going to have to let me. Because this is how my brain works, this is how itās always been. Iāve been self-narrating my life story in a mental voice that is partially mine, partially my motherās, and is meaner than anything anyone could ever say to me out loud. But if Iām the one beating me up, Iām also the one whoās healing myself.Ā
Now, before you get your advice wheels turning, stop. Iām delighted that my twee little life problems would make anyone want to reach out to help. I am beyond appreciative of everyoneās kindness and caring and friendship and love. I know everyone wants only the best for me, and knowing that has helped me through some bad mental spots. A support network is vital to human survival. But so many times over the last three years of singledom, Iāve received many empty platitudes of well-meaningness that really donāt do anything except take up some space under a Facebook post. Not to seem ungrateful, but after youāve been told the same things over and over again for three years and absolutely nothing has gotten better or changed, itās tough to not grind my teeth a little when I read them for the eleventy-billionth time.Ā
Examples of the things people say when they donāt know what else to say that leave me feeling not at all better:
āItāll happen when youāre not lookingāĀ
āHang in there, something great is about to happen for youā
āYouāre so (insert lovely compliment), I canāt believe youāre single!ā
Yes, most of the reason for this brain dump is plain old fashioned loneliness. There are times when I enjoy my alone time, when I revel in it, when itās restorative and relaxing, when I can eat whatever I want and bingewatch to my heartās content. There are other times, however, when my sons arenāt with me (like right now; as I write this, theyāre wrapping up their 10 day Spring Break trip to NYC), when Iāve been sitting alone on the couch night after night, when no one invites me to do things, when I havenāt had any physical human contact for ages, and those are the extra bad times. Iāll think to myself how all this awesomeness that I have is going to waste, why canāt I find anyone who wants all the things I have to offer, why do other people get to be happy and I donāt. I turn it all into Twitter fodder and hashtag it with a wryĀ ā#singleā, but this shit is getting old. And so am I.
My birthday is at the end of this month, the 26th. It will be the fourth birthday in a row without a significant other man person in my life. Iām not particularly focused on my age being what it is (and it will be 46, if anyone cares that Iāll officially be closer to 50 than 40 uggggh), because no one thinks Iām my age. Of course I grapple with the issue of getting older and all the things that are starting to fall apart physically, but there is also the whole being without someone who would make the day extra nice for me. It wonāt feel like a birthday because there wonāt be any real celebration, unless Iām the one who plans it (which I probably will, and even then, itāll be brunch with my kids. Which will be lovely, but still). There is no one to do anything special for me. No one is going to make dinner reservations and drive me to the restaurant. No one is going to surprise me with gifts left on the front seat of my car like my ex-boyfriend did one year. Yes, I will get tons of Facebook birthday wishes and tweets of the same, and that will make me smile, of course, because thatās been the best thing about my birthday these last few years. But no one is going to bake me a cake or surprise me with balloons or any of the nerdy, funny things my ex-boyfriend did. And there wonāt be anyone to make out with.Ā
Oh, I miss having a guy person to make out with. I like all that stuff, and any guy person Iāve done that stuff with has acknowledged that I know what Iām doing, and letās just leave it there. Despite the incredulous tweets from people out in the Twitterverse, it is an actual fact that there are men in this city who couldāve had me as their devoted girlfriend, yet chose not to. Iāve recently been told that one of the reasons Iām single is that IāmĀ āintimidatingā andĀ ācontrollingā (thanks for that unsolicited bit of advice). Iām not controlling, I just like to know how to manage my expectations. Is the gentleman in question looking for a relationship, or does he just want a fuck buddy? A girl needs to know this, because of the bubble wrap around the heart. We have to attend to that. As for intimidating, Iād love to know how a five-foot-tall, 107 pound woman could intimidate anyone. Sure, I have a strong personality, but Iām so much fun to hang out with, trust. There have been men who havenāt been intimidated by me, though I havenāt had any success with them, neither.
Right around this time last year, such a person happened. Another such person happened about two months ago. It was a small enough blip that I havenāt mentioned it online, but I did meet a guy who I seemed to click with on all the levels. And I thought I was breaking the pattern this time, because I wanted to be breaking the pattern. The first time we chatted, we chatted over the course of an entire day (āWhy arenāt we meeting in person today?ā he would text. He was so eager to meet me, which felt great). A single dad, a chef, great sense of humor, a lot in common, very cute, within the acceptable age range (37). Our first date was eight hours of talking. Our second date was twelve hours of talking (and a little making out, but not too much, because breaking the pattern!). Our third date wasnāt so much a date as me being supportive at a dinner he was making for potential employers, where he kissed me in public in front of people like we were a couple. The fourth date was pretty perfect, the kind of night I could imagine spending with him often. It felt so comfortable, like a relationship would feel. I could very easily picture us having more nights like that one, where we ended the night cuddling on the couch, watching a movie. We talked about the next time we could get together. He was heading to Northern California to see his mother. He was also in the middle of a major life crisis, where he found himself unemployed and unable to find a job, something I could certainly relate to. He was very stressed, naturally, and I let him know how much I understood how he felt, because I lived that for three years. When we parted that night, I think he could sense I was a little nervous about his trip--he was contemplating moving back there for work, but didnāt want to leave his daughter--he kissed me and said,Ā āDonāt worry, youāll see me again.ā
Because he flaked. Like all the other guys flaked. I got a text putting off a date, then putting off the rescheduled date, and then it just became him not being able to deal with life. And while he said he liked me, heād had a great time with me, we got along so well, and it wasĀ āno reflectionā on me BLAH BLAH BOY BULLSHIT, he had to fix his life, and fix it fast, and he had to do it alone. So he let go of a really great person who would have been wonderfully supportive of him during a really shitty time in his life. There was also the added issue that heās probably an alcoholic, and thatās why maybe his anti-depressants werenāt working, but hey, what do I know? Staying friends with me was apparently not an option, because all of a sudden, he just pulled the whole ghosting thing, even though weād had the āI fucking hate it when people pull that whole ghosting thingā conversation.Ā
So that wasnāt fun. That was a disappointment. Yes, I probably dodged yet another bullet. Luckily, I hadnāt allowed too many feels to develop this time, because I couldnāt help but wonder when the other shoe was going to drop. Because it always drops for me. But it still bugs me a little, how it all played out, because I thought maybe this time....and, sigh.
In the six weeks that have passed since he pulled the disappearing act, other contenders have emerged, but nothing that could ever become what I truly want. I want love. I want a relationship. However, I have begun to think that Iām not allowed have that. My best relationship ever ended three years ago, the one that was a billion times better than my marriage ever was; Iāve been chasing the feelings that he gave me ever since. It doesnāt help that he and I are still in touch, that we can text each other the old jokes that always made us laugh, that we can think of each other with affection. He has moved on, and is lost to me forever. It also doesnāt help that starting next week, he is going to be working at the deli RIGHT DOWNSTAIRS from where I work, because there are no other places in Portland that make food. So every day when I pass by, itāll be like, Hey Tara, thereās your daily reminder that no one is ever going to love you like he loved you. Have a great day at work!
Oh and HA HA HA Universe, thank you for this song that popped up on the iTunes Shuffle right as wrote that last sentence.
No, I really donāt think it will. Sorry, Daniel. Nice sentiment, though.
Letās cap this mess off with the latest ridiculousness that I put myself through, just last night. The Replacements played at the Crystal Ballroom, where I just happen to have a lifetime VIP pass, plus one. I had resigned myself to the fact that I was going to go alone. But then thereās a guy person Iāve recently come into contact with, someone I donāt know well and canāt quite get a handle on, personality-wise. However, I find him interesting and physically attractive, and kind of got the same vibe from him in return. And since Iām an idiot moron person who canāt tell anything about guys anymore, I genuinely have no idea if heās attracted to me. But it came up in conversation that the Replacements were playing, and that I have this plus one, and did he want to go? He affirmed that he did. I had no idea if this was a date, or just two people who happen to know each other who also happen to both like the Replacements, and also would like not having to pay to see them play live. After a beer at the bar downstairs (where I asked him questions that led to a good conversation, but I later realized, he didnāt really ask me anything about myself. Clue #1 that this wasnāt a date), we went upstairs to the sold-out packed house. It wasnāt easy to fight our way through the crowd to the VIP section, and since Iām puny, I was concerned Iād lose him on the way. I said,Ā āGive me your handā and he literally said,Ā āThatās ok, I got you.ā Clue #2 that it wasnāt a date: he had the opportunity to hold my hand and declined. Okay. Once in the VIP area, we got separated when he went to get a beer, and he didnāt try to make his way next to me once he got it. Clue #3 that it wasnāt a date. Thanks to all the pushy and shovy people (it sucks being a short girl at a show), I did end up standing in front of him, but it wasnāt like we were there together at all. The whole show, I was peeking between heads to catch an occasional glimpse of Paul Westerberg. The rest of the time, I watched peoplesā backs. At least the band sounded great. I tried to enjoy myself, but things just felt off.
To make things worse, there was a couple in my sightline almost the whole time. Of course there are couples everywhere I go all the time [Sidebar: sometimes when I see couples, whether they are happy together or theyāre not, I want to stop them and ask them,Ā āHow did you do this? How did you get here? How did you find each other, and then how did you reach the point where you were able to relax and stopped worrying if it was going to last or not? How did you decide that you were done looking and that you were right for each other?ā I just donāt know how it happens anymore. Iām starting to think all the couples have already found each other, and that after a certain age you just have to resign yourself to the reality that youāre going to die unloved by anyone except your kids. Or maybe itās the lack of available, attractive, suitable single men in Portland. And by available, I mean not dating others, just me. Ā By attractive, I mean I have to feel something when I look at a guy. Physical attraction matters, and itās different for everyone. And by suitable, I mean the guy has to be able to take me on a proper date. At least dinner. Every guy I meet is either too young, too broke, or too busy fucking around. Can you understand why I feel hopeless? End of sidebar], but there was something about this couple that just got to me. I was there with someone but not, and there they were, totally with each other. She didnāt look all that different from me: she was dark and pretty, maybe a little more the pin-up type in her dress and makeup, but she looked like someone Iād be friends with. He was cute, and he stood behind her and held her and was making her laugh (which gave me the biggest envy pang, the sense of humor is so everything), and he looked like a guy Iād want to date. I ached for what they had, their connection. And I just spent way too much time feeling very alone in the middle of that crowd.Ā
At the end of the night, my not-date gave me the awkward side-hug of not being at all into me. Iām not mad at him for this. Iām not even mad at myself. Itās not his fault heās not into me. Itās not my fault, either. It just is. I accept it with quiet resignation. As in, Of course it wasnāt a date, you idiot moron. Why would you even think that? You need to manage those expectations better, baby doll. Havenāt you learned anything by now? Heās a perfectly fine person, itās just not going to happen. Of course. I listened to the Smiths the whole drive home, because the dramz of it all.Ā
Yes, I know Iām very mean to myself. But after three years of absolutely nothing ever working out for me in this department, after all the wrong men and the disappointments and the constant feeling of being let down by life in general, optimism isnāt something Iām going to have in spades, you know? And if youāve read this far (and bless your sweet heart and bleary eyes), please know that I know I will not feel this way forever. It just feels like I will feel this way forever. I realize itās not a healthy way of thinking. Hence this blog. Hence my life theme song, which I should probably listen to every day to remind myself of all the disappointments and what always happens any time I let my hopes rise above subterranean levels.Ā
Ah. I feel mentally cleansed. In the new space I have made, I will make room for MY BOOK, which should hopefully be a thing that happens soonishly. I will start writing its sequel, which is already occupying a nice little corner of my mind. Itāll feel good to let that out, too. I will continue to try to not look for what Iām sure isnāt out there and also try not to let the same shit I just cleared out get back in. And maybe in a short amount of time, Iāll have something way more cohesive and less whiny to write about. I can only hope.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
jacobvanloon
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