Sunday, January 07, 2007
The world is a different place at 3:30am
Especially after you've had a few beers and a meandering conversation about exes. Terry_Ho and I went out for a few beers last night as a simple act of boredom. His increasingly pregnant fiance was not coming out, neither of us had any place to be, or any better ideas of what to do, so Dunedin Brewery and the Chic-A-Boom Room it was. We concluded, as I always do, that women are insane, that most people in this modern world are soulless, and that there is no hope for humanity. It was a good talk.
The difficult part about speaking of exes always comes after the fact. T_H had mentioned that my ex had posted a couple of blogs expressing her thoughts on the year past. Well, what choice did my mind have but to fixate on what may or may not have been said? I am not ashamed to admit that I have often wondered just what she thought of the mess that happened between us last year. Of course, she had some...issues...with a couple of other guys before and after we dated, so it was sure to make for an interesting read. Alas, my efforts to find her side of the story were thwarted, as all of her online profiles seem to be private these days.
At first I was frustrated, but could not put my finger on why. Obviously, there is no good that can come from reading about an ex's exploits, but morbid curiosity and a few pints of Guinness got the better of me in the very early morning. I was just giving up on my search when it dawned on me that there were two forces compelling me to seek out this information, which I really did not want to read in the first place.
With every girl I have ever dated, there has typically been a very drastic difference in the amount of postmortem down time each of us partook in once things fizzled out. In short, they move on right away, while I dwell for a while. On some level, I seem to have an emo-esque fascination with this imbalance, and I am helpless to do anything about it. I can't just "bang around" or "fuck it out of my system", no matter how many times I'm advised to do so. I'm old enough to recognize that the lead time between interesting girls is extended for me, and I also know that there is no rushing it, because there's no good in forcing something that isn't real, just to "move on", when in reality, moving on would be last thing I was doing.
I don't understand what motivates others to do what they do, don't want to be a part of it, but my mind works the idea like a hamster works its wheel. I grit my teeth and engage in the sort of contemplation that never ends well. On and on and on, my inner voice never seems to get tired of rehashing history, reminding me that the girl in question has moved on, while I'm still sitting here single, ruminating over the ashes of something that burned out ages ago. Relationships, sex, it's all so cheap and disposable...you know the drill. So it appears that I have pseudo-masochistic tendencies in this context, which is frustrating, because that is exactly the sort of thing I believe we should not ever allow to sink into us. In my heart of hearts, I know that I have done the right thing by every girl I've dated, but at 3:30 in the morning, those hazy visions of yesterday come a little clearer and it becomes that much easier to kick yourself in the testicles.
Secondly, I was genuinely curious to see if dating me had changed this particular ex in any way, shape or form. My money is on no, but you never know. I was in an AIM chat with Slade a few days ago and we discussed this very thing. There isn't really anything that special about my approach. I was raised to treat women with respect, to carry myself honestly, and to act with integrity, so I bring that to my relationships and do my best to express it in my actions, without becoming a doormat. Subsequently, girls I have dated tend to give me positive feedback, even after the fact. Did I do any good for this girl? Will any good come of the disaster that was our brief relationship? I will probably not ever know, and it ultimately doesn't matter, but some part of me has trouble with the idea that all that effort could have been expended for nothing.
The most tiring part is, I know that I will eventually get back in the game, meet someone, and do the whole damn thing over again. Time is starting to catch up with me, and the thought of repeatedly going down this road is a lot more distressing than it used to be, especially with everyone getting pregnant and married all around me. lol My 30th birthday is only months away now, for Jebus' sake! What a mess...
Anyway, that was my evening. It wasn't all bad, as I saw a couple of funny flicks and found out that T_H is having a boy. His fiance is really starting to show now, as she's almost exactly 6 months along. They've picked out a name and seem as ready as anyone can be. They are both totally stoked and looking forward to what's to come.
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If you want to know, I'm sure you could just ask.
Maybe, but where's the fun in asking?
without delving into the faults of a pseudo-friend, she doesn't strike me as the kind of person you could just ask. on the other hand, i'm telling you, the impression i've gotten loud and clear is that she bitterly regrets destroying her chance with a guy she never deserved to begin with.
As Clint Eastwood's character William Munny said in Unforgiven,"Deserve's got nothin' to do with it kid." I understand what you're getting at. And just so we're clear, I take no satisfaction in bitter regrets.
I was actually talking a bit about redemption and forgiveness with T_H last night. We came at the ideas from very different backgrounds, but came to similar conclusions. Forgiving those who have hurt or wronged us is much easier than forgiving ourselves. Forgiveness I can do, but forgetting is something I am incapable of. And I know you (slade) and I have talked about how difficult it is to be redeemed in our own eyes. Forgiving ourselves is so goddamned difficult, because it takes so much time and work to pay the proverbial penance to ourselves.
The strangest thing is, we're all just looking to be loved. At the base of it all, people who are capable of love want to be loved. We want to look up in our lowest and highest moments to see the face of someone we care about looking back at us. It is a natural, human, potentially beautiful thing, and it's also something that gets associated with weakness, so we become ashamed of admitting the need. Worse still, once we have a taste, no matter how fleeting, we are inevitably drawn back to well, some sooner than others, I suppose. That said, how does something so obvious and essential get so fucked up so often?
just to be clear, i'm not saying she didn't deserve you, i'm saying i've made the educated inference that she thinks that's the case. you should take that as at least some feeble validation of whatever effort you expended.
ya know, you describe your masochistic tendencies and lament the fact that you can't help but dwell on what was long ago dismissed by others. in this case i've read things this person wrote that cause me to believe she felt the same way about you. i think lots of us have been there, in that place, where we fear we were more invested in something than was the other person. and there's no doubt, it's not a pleasant feeling. it's embaressing as hell. but those who haven't been there, those who never were committed, those are the people i pity. it means they're so terrified of the vulnerability of intimacy that they will never attain the happiness that comes from letting someone in (and in doing so, finding the one thing we all want so desperately). what you had with this girl wasn't just a fling. that's why its repurcussions linger. because you're not the kind of guy who views other humans and your relationships with them as disposable. i really think that's something you can be proud of.
I guess we have to take what we can from these sorts of things. I've learned several lessons, but none of it is very satisfying. Relationships in this ready-made, throwaway society...I want my island worse than ever these days. :)