Hands down, better than anyone I know, I RULE at maintaining messy relationships. At this point in life I'm doubtful (with years of evidence to back up this assertion) that a normal love life is in the cards.
My particular area of expertise is Distance. I am the reigning world champion at falling in love and maintaining drawn out relationships with men when we're doomed from the get-go, separated by states or entire countries. It's a legitimate, deep fear of mine that men love me because they know we're not going anywhere. There are no repercussions or obligations to our relationship; we love each other for as long as love lasts and never have the need to address commitment. I am the perfect person to love because I have a time limit, and they have an easy out.
It should come at no surprise to me that my best date in the last four years was a one-night-stand in New York and my best relationship- if you can call it that- is with Crazy Chinatown Man, who lives in Oregon.
But Crazy Chinatown Man has, for over a month now, been involved with a woman who he likes and has a potential future with because they live in the same city. I have played this game so many times before, I already know the outcome: No matter how much two people care about each other or have a history together, physical proximity wins. Especially when you are a man. Especially when she's smart and fun and pretty.
He told me in an email, as I'd asked him to, when they started seeing each other exclusively. Then he also told me in the same email, as I'd never asked him to, "I'm proud of your toughness. I love you. I miss you."
Who else would like to uselessly overanalyze those three sentences? I've been dating for four years, and I'm too tired to do it myself.
Enter the relationship mucky muck that I excel at! It wouldn't be a bonafide romance of mine if a man didn't commit himself to another woman while expressing his love for me. When this happened at ages 19, 26, and 28 respectively, I shrugged it off with the excuse that we were young, because we were, but to have the same scenario play out three days shy of my 33rd birthday, with a man who turns 41 next month, there has to be a different reason.
It's not youthful inexperience. It's more like circles of love, friendship, obligation, hopes for the future, realities of the present, and uncertainties of life all intersecting in a chaotic Venn diagram that Crazy Chinatown Man and I got stuck in because we both have a dislike of clear, linear patterns that don't cause confusion. It's the reason we get along in the first place.
My particular area of expertise is Distance. I am the reigning world champion at falling in love and maintaining drawn out relationships with men when we're doomed from the get-go, separated by states or entire countries. It's a legitimate, deep fear of mine that men love me because they know we're not going anywhere. There are no repercussions or obligations to our relationship; we love each other for as long as love lasts and never have the need to address commitment. I am the perfect person to love because I have a time limit, and they have an easy out.
It should come at no surprise to me that my best date in the last four years was a one-night-stand in New York and my best relationship- if you can call it that- is with Crazy Chinatown Man, who lives in Oregon.
But Crazy Chinatown Man has, for over a month now, been involved with a woman who he likes and has a potential future with because they live in the same city. I have played this game so many times before, I already know the outcome: No matter how much two people care about each other or have a history together, physical proximity wins. Especially when you are a man. Especially when she's smart and fun and pretty.
He told me in an email, as I'd asked him to, when they started seeing each other exclusively. Then he also told me in the same email, as I'd never asked him to, "I'm proud of your toughness. I love you. I miss you."
Who else would like to uselessly overanalyze those three sentences? I've been dating for four years, and I'm too tired to do it myself.
Enter the relationship mucky muck that I excel at! It wouldn't be a bonafide romance of mine if a man didn't commit himself to another woman while expressing his love for me. When this happened at ages 19, 26, and 28 respectively, I shrugged it off with the excuse that we were young, because we were, but to have the same scenario play out three days shy of my 33rd birthday, with a man who turns 41 next month, there has to be a different reason.
It's not youthful inexperience. It's more like circles of love, friendship, obligation, hopes for the future, realities of the present, and uncertainties of life all intersecting in a chaotic Venn diagram that Crazy Chinatown Man and I got stuck in because we both have a dislike of clear, linear patterns that don't cause confusion. It's the reason we get along in the first place.
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