Manifesting Destiny

I have not been, as they say, lucky in love.  I’ve had one fortunate relationship to speak of, the one with my ex-husband, which has grown into a friendship for life; but there have been no great successes, no grand stories, no Great Love of which to speak.  There has been drama, and chaos, and undesirable memories. 

My luck has been greatly decreased by my habit of rushing into relationships with my bleeding heart held firmly out in front of me, chasing emotionally unavailable men who cannot escape quickly enough.  Somehow, the fact that their backs are turned as they move away quickly in the other direction has escaped my notice, each and every time.  I’ve begun to question my grip on reality, especially after seeing the smiling photos of one recent non-boyfriend with his MUCH older ladyfriend, with whom he re-entered into a relationship while I was still under the impression we were dating.  He seems truly happy–if he is indeed capable of a positive emotion–and that really pisses me off.

I began to wonder why it was so seemingly easy for people like him to move on, and to smile.  I wondered why my friends are able to sustain good relationships, when I can’t seem to move past the “just dating” phase.  So I sought answers from acupuncture, a special diet, and the meditative therapy that came along with it.  I did my homework.  I journaled.  I blogged.  I beat my head against a wall.  Nothing came out.

Marc the Acupuncturist had told me that if I wanted a certain life in the future, I needed to zero in on exactly what I wanted, put it out there in the universe, and manifest it.  So that’s what I did.  I finished my homework, figured out what I wanted, and wrote it out in big letters for the gods to see and send my answer.  When the Tall Boy came around, I thought to myself, Wow!  That was fast!  Thank you, Universe! 

I told the Tall Boy what I wanted, and miraculously, he seemed to want the same things.  I could not have asked for a more magical story.

And then…the story ended.

As it turned out, Tall Boy no more knew what he wanted than he had at nineteen.  He had only latched onto my fantasy, I suppose, soaking up my new-found confidence and assuredness that we were headed down the right path.  One brief visit with his female  friend convinced him, though, that her path was just as desirable.

Now, I am not sure what I have manifested.  I suppose it has been the same scenario I have created over and over.  It is one where my eyes are covered in clouds, and where I am chasing after someone who does not wish to be caught.  I have created another losing situation, this time by being focused on getting exactly what I want.  In focusing on what I desire to have, I have created the absence of it.

They say that in order to find love, one must stop looking for it.  But in my experience, when love arrives unexpectedly and while one is focused on being happy alone, it becomes a mighty inconvenient visitor.  To the Tall Boy, for example, my arrival seems to have been inconvenient.  Any relationship I’ve found while focused on my own needs has not ended well, and has resulted in my being selfish in it.  This is not a scenario I hope to repeat.  In all honesty, if I have to choose between being the injured party, versus the injurer, I’ll get my own heart broken every time.

I am a far cry from subjecting myself to internet dating or set-ups.  I don’t want a partner that badly.  I do enjoy my solitude, and going “shopping” for a life partner seems distasteful to me.  But I will no longer avoid those few men who have expressed interest in getting to know me.  I will not fear them simply because they might learn that I’m crazy and run the other way.  (If anything, I have learned that I can take frequent rejection and bounce back.)  I will not save myself for a man who doesn’t seem to appreciate it.  I will not put aside the gifts that the universe seems to be trying to lay in my path.  It may be a half-hearted manifestation, but it is what I have, today, and what I am willing to commit to. 

I’m not sure what to do with all the visions I’ve had of my future.  I suppose their real intent was to keep me from “settling,” and to keep me on the right path.  This path is a solitary one, however, as long as men continue to weave themselves into the fabric of it only as short stories.  I am committed to writing the Great American Novel…or nothing at all.