Being Brave on a Sunday

Underneath my cynic sheep clothing, an incurable romantic. I believe in love, I believe that completes you, I believe it offers you a new perspective on yourself. I believe.

Tuesday, February 06, 2007

A More Concentrated Effort

It starts with great, massive, huge intentions. And then in my typical style, it falls kind of flat. Note the fact this post is on a Tuesday, not a Sunday. And secondly its almost been a month since stating I would boldly tell the truth about everything, in my romantical life anyway. Still, it's my blog and I'll procrastinate if I want to.

But away from the snark and sarcasm - back to the truth. Romantically, it's been a completely typical non-typical month for me. All massive starts and beginnings and then falling flat into oblivion. After laying it out there for any interested time wasters to see, I was/still am determined to persue a love life. A some one. Not an any one - let's make that clear. I'm not searching for a (insert twangy American accent) 'boyfriend'. I want a partner, I want a friend, I want reality and I want mess and madness. I know far too many people who are settling for a man in their life because it makes them feel okay. I will not be that person.

Anyway, what's been happening since January 7? Not even three days after posting my raison d'etre for 2007, Man 1 (to protect the innocent/guilty and in-between I will not name, merely number) wandered into my office and began chatting casually. I know Man 1 through work but not on a friendly basis. More of a nod and 'How's the weather?' acquantiance level, so it was odd to find him in my office chatting away. I was mentally deciding two things - firstly what is his name again? and secondly I thought the problem from this person's department is fixed so why is he here? After some cursiory questions, he bravely asked if I was interested in going out to lunch sometime. WHAT? HUH? Where in the hell did that come from? You know when people say, 'I never knew he liked me that way and now we're having our fifth child.' Well, I'm sorry, I don't believe them, there had to be some signals. But this, I was completely blindsided. If you had asked me ten minutes earlier, some one is going to ask you out, guess who, I would bet the entire world's future existence that I would not know it was Man 1.

In my complete and absolute state of shock, I immediately rushed with instincts and vaguely alluded to the fact I'd just started dating some one and it wouldn't be appropriate. He of course, stumbled backwards and rushed away saying of course, no not at all and a million sorries. For at least the following ten minutes I sat bewildered at my desk. Huh? I just didn't get it. And from here the tried and true self deflection method comes in. He must be weird, because no one just sees me and wants to date me, something clearly wrong there, one too many knocks to the head. Others around me, immediately scolded me for a rash dismissal, saying I was always complaining about the lack of men, and how I was looking for love (damn, that people remember what I say) and here comes along a nice boy and I reject him off the bat. Still, I clung to my instincts and believed my worse demons. It was just too out of the blue to be a good thing.

That night I went to my sibling's house. Sibling 1 is married and has a child and while she likes to think she spent her years in dating hell, Sibling 1 had quite a few steady boyfriends, Sibling 1 had one very rotten boyfriend and then was heartbroken. A year later Sibling 1 met, fell in love with and went on to marry Brother in Law - BiL. All this was done by the time she was my age, so while I love Sibling 1 very much, her dating advice holds little sway with me. It's a whole different ball game. Still, after telling my story of romance from Man 1, Sibling 1 swooned. Deemed that I was heartless for lying (I consider it massaging the truth) and that I should be accepting the date with post haste. I don't usual share my dating life with Sibling 1 in efforts to avoid such lectures.

Still, I began to doubt myself. Had I just pushed away the great man I was waiting for? I am, afterall forever complaining about the lack of men and romance. I am forever hoping for a very such invitation - why now, does the very thing, have me running for the hills?

To cut a long story somewhat short, over the course of the next few days, it came through sources that Man 1 had inconclusively asked other ladies out in the building, under what pretexts and timelines, t'was still a mystery. However eye-witness reports have concurred that trusting my instincts was completely the right thing to do, as Man 1 and I are completely different people and Man 1 is a touch on the unique side.

So it was over before it even began. The very story of my love life. Really, it is. There are many, many, many examples of similar occasions where for a 24 hour period, I'm all fluttery about a man prospect of some kind and then faster than a reality show contestant's fame, it's all gone.

As it's a recurring theme, I wonder is it me? Are my gross expectations driving them away, or do I put the hex on it before it has a chance to live? Who the hell knows.

***

My other massive discovery for the month is the beach. Yes, I'm very aware of it's existence but having just spent a while down there, I've decided the beach is the worst place for a single girl. The obvious and terror inducing horror of swimwear aside - it's choc o bloc full of couples. From my vantage point, where I spent at least three solid days on the sand, there was the vast array.

From the tweeny girls and boys - still young enough to play in the sand, bucket and spade but old enough to run back to Mum and Dad in fits of giggles because of boy. To the actual teens, who come in sets of three. Three boys, three girls. The new generation of teen girl barely recognisable from an adult woman (in fact, I know I looked more teen than most real teens there). They flirt with wild abandon and boys then play cricket or soccer and attempt to impress with overtly masculine displays. This is then followed by throwing chosen girl into the water in playful attempts to cop a feel. Then come the twenty-somethings. The girls stop going in the water, or only on the promise of no wet hair and the boys get more masculine in their games. This is for the shallow end of the twenty-somethings. For the deep end, it's a couple destination, the beach. They come together, lie on the sand and whisper sweet nothings to each other. There is reading and overt displays of public affection. There is laughter and then a joint swim, which can sometimes turn into a M rated event if they think they are undetected. For the thirty-somethings. It's either this or the massive tasks of kids, and all that comes with it.

Still the greatest thing I noticed was there are no single women on the beach past a certain age. I was there with my girl friend and we were having a lovely time, reading crappy romance novels, enjoy the sunshine etc and I sadly thought while looking out over the crowd, what happens if I'm still single in ten years time? Do I go to the beach alone?

There are so many places were couples reign supreme, and while I certainly don't begrudge them, in fact envy is very much the name of the game - I'm often, in beautiful moments, left a small slice of sad. I long to be a hand holder in public, a beach boy frolicker with some one to splash water at me playfully, some one to lovingly - with a hint of spice for later, rub sunscreen into my sure to burn shoulders. It all comes to back to wanting some one.

So farewell, Man 1, thanks for trying, the effort was greatly appreciated by me and my self esteem. Farewell to the beach goers, I'll see you next summer. Maybe with a some one at my side.

xx BBSG