Lonesuckiness and the Art of Biding Time

I spent the day alone.  Aloneness is something to which I’ve grown accustomed over the past few years.  Sure, I’ve had so-called “romances,” which largely consisted of my doting on selfish men who lacked any interest in my well-being; but for the most part, I’ve spent my time alone with my furry friends, contemplating life and wishing I had a better handle on it.  Most times, I was alone, but not lonely.

When today began, I was lonely.  By midday, I was as lonely as I’d ever been.  And that was while I still had a boyfriend.

My life choices have often appeared, from the outside, unwise.  (It’s okay.  They usually appear that way from the inside, too.)  Faithful friends have given their best advice, family members have expressed real concern, and even practical strangers have attempted to guide me through rough patches filled with briers and tar.  Being one whose lessons must be gleaned the hard way, I’ve brushed aside all advice and knowingly trudged on down paths filled with landmines.

At some point, I started living the same failed relationship over and over.  I become enamored–either quickly or slowly, depending on my state of mind and readiness–and jump in head first, deciding to throw caution to the wind; I ignore signals that my best interest is not a priority to him; I allow myself to become wrapped up in the fantasy of his goodness and our future together; and I am surprised when he leaves me suddenly to be with the woman I should have known he really wanted to be with in the first place.

For their part, the men have been liars.  But it wasn’t so much that they were lying to me, as perhaps they were to themselves.  Do I believe that Married Guy loved me?  In a way, I do.  But perhaps the truth he was stating was not the same truth I was hearing.  (Read:  Shopgirl, Steve Martin.)  Do I believe that The Colombian cared?  I think he actually did, for a minute.  Perhaps a minute here and there, even.  Do I think Tall Boy ever pictured himself married to me, raising children together and living happily ever after?  Sure. 

Unfortunately, all three shared one unfortunate secret desire which eclipsed each’s desire for me:  Some Other Woman.

These are the Three Little Pigs about whom I’ve written on this blog.  But they weren’t the first, second, third, or only.  I’m not exactly sure when it started, but the first time I can recall it happening was midway through my freshman year in college.  It happened again the next year, and again the next.  One prettyboy asshole, at least, had the decency to marry the girl he left me (while he was still dating me) for.  It was particularly charming when he giggled with her on the phone as made him dinner in the next room.  One guy, the next, was my first real “grownup” dating experience after I left college; and fresh off a marital separation–which he didn’t tell me until our third date–he could hardly be held responsible for being still in love with his wife, could he?

It seems there is something about me that screams, STOPPING OFF POINT.  I’m the place where men go after they decide to stop being with one woman, and directly before they go straight back to her.   Ah.  I’m a Relationship Healer!  I am so unpleasant that I drive men back to the women they’ve left!

Of course, there are variations on this theme.  Married Guy never actually left his wife, or never even thought of it.  Tall Boy has never really been with the woman he left me for, save for a one night stand long ago–if I can believe anything he ever said–and as far as I can see, she is still married to her husband.  Each man is somewhat unique, though the result is the same:  I become lonely, before I’m even technically alone.

A woman can sense when she is in a relationship alone.  At least, I can.  I’ve had lots of practice.  For the longest time, I thought it was paranoia, or insecurity, or something I was creating.  But darned if I haven’t had my “paranoia” proven justified in all but one case.  (The one case is The Bill.  He didn’t leave me for another woman.  He just really wanted a drink.)  And today, my record stands.  Tall Boy’s old/new love was writing smutty messages on his Racebook wall before the paint even dried on our “relationship closed” sign.

If the lonesuckiness I experienced this past year was a product of aloneness, then I’ll take it back.  I’ll wear my lonesuckiness like a badge of honor, and be lonesucky all summer long and all again next year.  Because the suckiness I’ve felt IN relationships has been far, far worse.  Come to think, I wish that men would embrace their own lonesuckiness, and learn to be alone instead of dragging me into a new state of loneliness.  I don’t wish to be someone’s stopping off point.  I don’t wish to have my time wasted while he’s just biding his.

If one more man says to me, “I know it wasn’t fair to you, but…,” I’m going to explode in a blogtacular attack on his personal hygiene.  If you knew it wasn’t fair, why did you do it?  Because I was so mean?  Because I’m so undesirable?  Or because you’re just a GIANT ASS?? 

Most women, when treated this way repeatedly, become cynical.  They stop trying.  They stop giving.  They hold a little of themselves back.  They close themselves off to real love out of fear of repeating past mistakes.  So it’s a good thing I’m not like other women.  It’s a good thing I’m too foolish to close myself off.  Because let me tell you this, Zoo faithful:  someday, some way, some incredible man with an eye for quality and a desire for some crazy love is going to find me.  He’s going to find me, and he’s going to love me like no one else ever could.  And he is going to benefit from the fact that I am not afraid to love him right back, despite what a few assholes have done to me.

Or, as my old male friend just suggested, maybe I’ll go lesbian.