curiousillusion

“You’re so lucky”, I get told all the time. “You don’t have these boyfriend problems.” I hear it over and over, from the girls at work, who are usually fretting and fussing about what their significant other has done this time.

“You’re happy,” they tell me, assuming that because I’m not in a relationship, because I’m not dealing with what they are dealing with, my life must be perfect.

Sometimes I appreciate being single. I enjoy the freedom it gives me, the possibilities I have and I am, actually, happy.

But then sometimes I just want more. I want to hold someone’s hand. I want to be able to vent after I’ve had a bad day and have someone hold me. I want someone to be waiting for me. I want… a lot.

It’s okay. I know it. I’m okay. But still…

Is that so much to ask for?

I mentioned meeting a guy on my trip and I have had people left and right ask for more details, of which I have given few. Part of it is loving having these memories all snug and warm in my heart, where no one can tear them apart. And part of it is that I don’t think my blog is the right place to talk about the specifics.

But I will say one quick thing about that guy, and then I’m done… he is the first guy that I’ve been with that I’ve been able to be completely honest with, completely myself with. A while back I had realized that in all my previous relationships, I was never ME. I was always trying to be what I thought they wanted me to be, or I was just hiding a part of myself. And maybe it was just because I thought I was never going to see him again or maybe it’s because of who he is… but with this guy, I didn’t have that problem. It’s refreshing. It’s remarkable.

That being said, I’m pretty sure that chapter is closed. A very short chapter, some might even consider it merely worthy of a small footnote, but I think it was rather significant and deserves a separate place in my life. About an hour talking in airports, two hours talking on a plane, and six hours talking the next night… and every time I think about him and everything that happened, I smile. A big smile, that warms me up inside, that stays with me as I sleep. Because, if nothing else… I am left with wonderful memories, and hope. And hope is powerful.

Do you have a person, an ex perhaps, that was a “could’ve been”?  For all intents and purposes, that person was good, better than so many others, there was potential for some form of relationship… but, for whatever reason, it just didn’t work out?  No horrible breakup, no huge flaw… just something didn’t take and so you drifted apart?  I’m stuck on mine. (Btw, you notice how I was all gender neutral there?  Yeah I tried to be, for you guys. Awww.)

I’m very much of the mindset that, if it’s meant to happen, it will happen.  If we weren’t meant to be together then tragic, but that means that there’s someone else out there for me.   Now, when I have a bad breakup (and, aren’t most breakups bad?), I always have that set of time where I don’t wish them well, I don’t hope they find someone else… I just want to be petty because if I’m alone, shouldn’t they be alone too?  But eventually I move on emotionally, and in my head I wish them happiness.

And I do, I wish all my exes happiness, deep down.  Even the one that really messed with my head and screwed with my heart.  And even this guy.  This could’ve been guy.  But at the same time that I’m wishing him happiness, I’m wishing *we* could have had that happiness.  I get jealous if I think he has a girl, or even if I get the impression that he doesn’t want to hang out with me and that’s silly because I’m the one that left.  We could’ve been so much more than we were, and it’s because of me.  I have no right to be jealous.  And yet I am.  Because he’s my could’ve been guy.

I don’t know what I’m getting at.  I guess I’m just bummed.  It’s been a year, an entire year, of me being single and while it’s been mostly a good year… I’m ready for an adventure.  I’m ready for at least a little bit of dating – is that too much to ask for?  And I guess when I start thinking like that, I think about my could’ve been guy and I wonder why it ended up could’ve been and not more.  I know I need to let him go, and let the *idea* of him go.  It’s just hard. He’s my could’ve been guy for a reason – he’s a good guy and he always treated me great.   Sigh.

I guess I just need to keep in mind that there’s someone out there for me, someone that’s even better than my could’ve been guy.  Just wish he’d hurry up and get here…

I don’t cook, this has been said numerous times.  I mean, at times I’ve followed a recipe and been succesful, but more often than not, something goes wrong and it ends in disaster.  Which is why I stick to the simple stuff – pasta, salads, sandwiches.

My mom, however, refuses to accept this – I think she’s made it her mission to teach me how to cook.  In fact, from what I can tell, I think I’m expected to make dinner for all of us once a week. Wednesday I cooked up some chicken dish that was quite easy and quite yummy.  So hey, maybe I *can* cook.  But I digress…

Anyway… my mom was talking to me about cooking today and admitted that no, she doesn’t really like to cook.  In fact, she didn’t do much of it until shortly after she and my dad got married… apparently my father took her aside and said that when he gets home after a long day of work, he expects a nice meal.

Now that’s a problem for me.  He expects a meal?  My mother works just as hard and just as long as my father does, why is it expected that she should be the one to cook the meal?  When I asked my mom this she just said, “that’s the way it is, that’s part of being a wife”.  She also referred to a daughter of one of their friends (my age, by the way), who is teaching herself to cook because she wants her husband to come home to a nice meal.  (For the record, my dad has been known to prepare dinner from time to time, don’t get me wrong.  About once a week he’ll either make a meal or reheat some leftovers… and he does like to grill on the bbq when the weather is nice.)

Sigh.  I know there are people out there that enjoy this sort of thing and might agree with this sentiment, and that’s fine for them.  But it just grates on me.  Maybe this is why I’m not cut out for marriage just yet – I don’t believe that, because I’m a woman, I should be expected to have dinner set out on the table, day after day.  I mean, I agree that there probably should be some form of nutritious meal at the end of the day, probably something a bit better than a sandwich… and yes, I think that I should be one of the people to provide that meal.  But, I kind of believe that it should be a shared effort.  If there are two people in a marriage and both people are working full-time jobs, then why should one of those people consistently have to be the one to cook, while the other just relaxes and enjoys?

Maybe it’s just me though, I don’t know.  Maybe my mind will change at some point.  Or maybe I’ll just find me a guy that cooks. :)

So I’ve been thinking a lot about what I wrote yesterday, and everyone’s supportive comments.  But there’s something that’s been nagging at my conscience about it all and maybe a confession is in order (and no, @mattstratton, it’s not a good confession… sorry again!).  Because, I know, I go on about enjoying being single and so on… and don’t get me wrong, that’s 100% true.  And the part of not wanting to date someone I see regularly (in yesterday’s case, the gym) is also 100% true.  But… I think deep down a good part of my problem is that I’m like terrified to date.

That sounds pretty ridiculous.  Maybe I’m exaggerating just a touch.  It’s just, I get super awkward around guys that I’m interested in, and I just lose my social skills and manners.  Which seems silly or maybe it’s just normal.  Either way I don’t know that I’m cut out for dating – it feels like so much work. Going on dates, getting to know someone… all of that, just feels overwhelming.   And I know, there are some great parts to dating, parts that I miss – but still.

Of all the guys I’ve dated, before I dated them they were my friend first. Which is hard because when the relationship ended, so did the friendship… and some of them were amazing friends, and so when we broke up I lost a boyfriend and my best friend all in one go.  But in a way it was nice having them as a friend first, because there wasn’t that awkward feeling that comes from going out with someone new.

As a matter of fact, I’ve been on one honest to goodness date.  One.  I mean, I’ve been on dates before but this was the first date where I hadn’t hung out with the guy before hand or anything… In fact, he was a random guy that gave me his number when I was working at a retail job earlier this year.  It’s safe to say it was a disaster – as usual I lost my social skills, ran out of things to say and spent most of dinner people watching instead of watching my date. I never heard from him after that, which was in fact *great* because I was never that interested to begin with… But after that mess of a date, I’m understandably hesitant to go at it again!

Now I know, it’ll happen when I’m ready… I don’t need to worry about it… etc, etc.  And that’s why I try not to stress about it, and why I am happy where I’m at right now. But I just worry that I’m holding myself back sometimes.  I hope not.

[Note: I hesitated to post this because it feels like such a negative aspect of myself, and I don't like putting negativity out there.  Plus I'm about 100% sure about what your reactions are going to be.  But I started to write this last night and since it's still in my head, I'm posting this.]

Some people have been giving me a hard time about my not wanting to date cute trainer guy.  Going beyond the fact that he technically hasn’t asked me out yet, they’re concerned with my reason for not wanting to date cute trainer guy – because when things go wrong, I still have to train at the gym that he works at, and that’s just asking for trouble.  Keywords being when things go wrong… I tend to be kind of negative when it comes to this sort of thing.

My experience with relationships isn’t many but I’ve had my share.  And they’ve all taught me a lot but what has stayed with me is… relationships end.  Breakups are messy.  And things (between the two people) are never the same after it’s over.

Don’t get me wrong, I have high hopes that eventually I’ll find someone for me.  Someone that *gets* me, looks past my neurotic tendencies or accepts them… and accepts me.  And, you know, preferably cooks.  :)  In fact, I refuse to accept the alternative.  But I guess maybe I’m just not ready for it or something… because for the past few years I’ve sort of resigned myself to knowing that any relationship I enter will end.

My last relationship was with a co-worker and we split up halfway through the school year.  There’s a reason they say not to mix business with pleasure… those last 5 months of working were fairly miserable indeed.  That taught me the most important lesson – do not date someone you have to see regularly (also covered by the tv show How I Met Your Mother in the episode The Platinum Rule, btw).

So yes, cute trainer guy is looking for another job.  And who knows, maybe he’ll find another job and/or we will end up on a date and things will go really well.  Or maybe not.   But you have to forgive me for being wary…  I still have to go to the same gym.  Anyway, who knows what will happen there.  Maybe even nothing… or maybe someone else will pop into my life out of the blue.

In the end, I wonder if it all boils down to how I just feel content being single.  And what’s wrong with that?

I’ve mentioned previously that I’m perfectly content being single… while I wouldn’t mind having a boyfriend, or even dating, I don’t feel the overwhelming need to have someone.  But sometimes I feel like I’m the only one that feels that way.  Especially when I’m around my friends that have boyfriends.  It seems that most of my friends have significant others and they fall into 2 categories… they either feel the need to spend *all* their time with their boyfriend/husband, inviting him along everywhere… or they don’t.

I have to say, I prefer the ones that don’t feel the need to invite their significant other everywhere.  In San Antonio I had two really good friends and we would go out, see a movie, have a few drinks, have girl talk… and that was great!  It’s nice to be able to go out and chat about whatever.   It obviously wasn’t a regular thing because they had husbands and children, but once in a while they would have their husbands babysit (or their moms, whatever) and we would get to go out.

Now don’t get me wrong, I can understand how some couples want to spend their time together.  My brother and his girlfriend live in different cities so it only makes sense that on the weekends they do get to see each other, they spend as much time as possible together… I don’t fault them for it.

However, I can’t stand when my friends have boyfriends and hanging out with my friend means hanging out with her boyfriend, no matter what.   I mean, yeah, sometimes the boyfriend is cool and we can all get along and that’s great.  But every single time?  Plus I think it’s one thing to say, “hey let’s go out… and oh, is it okay if my boyfriend joins us?” It’s another thing when my friend suggests we hang out and then when we go to hang out, oh look – the boyfriend is here.   And no, it’s not bitterness or jealousy… it’s me wanting to spend time with a friend.  Is that so bad?

Maybe it’s just me though.  I’ve never been one to *always* spend time with a significant other… there are times for that, and then there are times when you can each do your own thing.  My parents are the same way – they go out together, but then my dad will go to the pub and my mom will hang out with her friends and they don’t always need to be with each other.  I kind of think that’s a sign of a healthy relationship.

But again, maybe that’s just me.  Sigh.