Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Tired and full of trepidation

I'm tired of dating.

I'm tired of holding back my enthusiasm and my needs until I'm sure that he wants both.

I'm tired of being unable to date casually (like this great blog I found) because my heart and my spirit want a partner rather than a companion.

I'm tired of the constant ticker tape of analysis that runs through my head puzzling out if a man is still interested now that he's gotten to know me and whether he's still interesting now that I've gotten to know him. (It's no use asking him: they're always either polite, manipulative or cowards but I don't have enough information about their actions to deduce the answer at this point.)

But I fear that if I stop dating, if I declare a moratorium, I'll be like a grasshopper and wallow too long in the temporary comfort of my single life when I should be an ant, storing up for winter. I fear that when I get back into it, I'll have hit an age where my only options are damaged goods, like the last pumpkins in November.

I'm fear that I'm already that old.

And I fear that by saying these things out loud I am betraying feminism, that I'll get lumped in with those women, with their romance novels and too many pictures of their nieces and nephews in their cubicle.

I'm tired of living up to my own high expectations.

I wish I could want a career instead of a family but I don't. But I can take steps toward a successful, fulfilling career where I can't take any steps toward a husband. I just don't know where he is in order to set off in that direction. So I reluctantly turn north whenever I can toward a career and take the interesting-looking side roads of dating whenever possible.

But there are long stretches of corn fields on these side roads with only a few attractions to break the monotony and I keep telling myself it will get better but I'm starting to wonder if I shouldn't be heeding the adage about fool me once, fool me twice.

But it's not all bad. This weekend, I'll be heading up to Wisconsin to a wedding as my friend Susan's date to be the comic relief and to hold a drink that she can take big slugs off of between bridesmaid duties to a bride who will have gigantic hair and a dress like a cupcake. I have chosen the walleye option for my meal at the restaurant with the giant cow statue out front. I've also been asked to watch over the two boston terriers that will act as the flower girl and ring bearer.

Don't worry, I'll take pictures.

8 comments:

Susan said...

I love you! I'm so glad you are my drink holder, dog wrangler and best friend!

Rachel said...

It's no use asking him: they're always either polite, manipulative or cowards but I don't have enough information about their actions to deduce the answer at this point.

I want to believe in men (and women) who don't do this.

Babe, you're young.

Searching for the Yeti said...

your words ring true for so many. thanks for writing them down.

Jess said...

you sound like I can sometimes feel, when I wonder if my mother isn't right, and I should show a little more leg, or dress attractively while on planes or at the grocery store, because after all, you never know who you might meet...

later for the voices of fear masquerading as common sense. your faith and patience are indomitable. i love you.

Al said...

Maybe you should send [throw?] them to your blog first and see who sticks. :-)

Your needs [including enthusiasm] are specific. Your friends and advisers can help by keeping their eyes open for you.

PrincessMax said...

Al, help me out here. What does it mean to throw them to the blog? Also, what does it mean that my needs are specific?

Jess, later indeed.

Searching for the yeti, as always, thank you for affirming why I put myself out there.

Rachel, we're both young. And I do believe. There just always seems to be overwhelming evidence to the contrary. I'm like the Spooky Mulder of Love.

Susan, Cosmos and Mahattans are such a good way to celebrate someone else's somewhat sickenly beautiful love.

David said...

Hope you don't mind my bit of projection here, fellow wpg'er.

"I'm tired of living up to my own high expectations."

I know how this feels, and when I realize again and again that I am at the root of my own frustrations, and give up, and give as much of it up as possible to be freed from the conditions of mind and culture; there is no other solace that comforts my heart more deeply than my own compassion and love, within and without, subtly or profoundly.

I don't know you well, but I know you buzz around with great amounts of energy. I see it because I've been searching for so long too.

May I suggest finding and reading the wonderful buddhist sutra: Faith In Mind.

Peace, you, now.

duckbill said...

"I'm tired of living up to my own high expectations."

it's good your expectations won't allow you to settle for a 'polite' fraud, a manipulator, or a coward.

it's also good you're tired of all the bullshit.

you only have to believe there is one exception out there...even if the rest of male humanity confirms your general disappointment.

i really think he's out there, somewhere, close by. and showing him your blog will only make him more attracted to you. maybe al is right--maybe the blog is a better litmus test than you could ever construct on a first, second or seventh date.

--#14