My love life tends to be the number one topic in my circle of friends and household. Why is a woman who is nearly 40 still single? I make jokes that I'm waiting for Garrett Weber-Gale to realize he's helplessly, devotedly, and desparately in love with me.
I know. I KNOW! That's never going to happen. And, I know that. I just want people to stop asking what's wrong with ME and ask what's wrong the THE GUYS.
Or, maybe I'm just waiting for that whole "Bridget Jones' Diary" moment when Mark goes and buys her the new diary because she needed a fresh start. The whole "I'll-have-two-goregous-men-fight-over-me-if-I-keep-a-diary." thing. Believe you me. I've tried. It doesn't work. All that happens is you find yourself chin deep in ice cream, watching "Bridget Jones" for the millionth time, trying to figure out how SHE did it and wonder if you're even doing it right.
But, I've only told a couple people the true reason why I have avoided men. And, no. It's not because I'm gay (not that there's anything wrong with that. I've got 2 gay cousins) or I really think that Garrett Weber-Gale is in love with me. And, like I said. It has nothing to do with the whole diary thing because I've kept a diary since I could write and not a single guy has so much as thought of fighting another guy for my affection.
It's much deeper and I'm not sure if I really feel like sharing, but here goes anyhow. I guess.
Growing up, I was the tomboy. I mean, if there was a pick up game of anything, I was usually there. I wasn't ever afraid of getting dirty or mussing up my hair. While other girls would run in dread and fear when a boy stuck a frog in their faces, I was amused and tried to one-up the boy.
I was always outside, in the dirt and mud. I loved being dirty. Climbing trees? Check. Loved to climb trees, even in my Sunday best, much to the dismay of my parents. I was never one to think about what others would think of me. Never.
As I grew up, the boys always said that they wanted a girl they could take to the sporting events and not have to stop every second and explain what was going on. I was that girl, but I found myself always in the "Just Friends" catergory. Always. Without fail.
So, I stopped trying to be anything other than "that girl". You know. The one that never wore make up (or much of it) and jeans and tee shirts seemed to be the staple of her wardrobe.
Yeah. Attract guys like that. Kind of counterproductive.
As I grew up, I learned how to be a lot more feminine than I usually was. I wore a lot of skirts and dresses in high school, mixed in with my sneakers and jeans. I never wore a lot of make up and my hair wouldn't style like the other girls. I loved earrings, bracelets, and rings. Still do. Well, except for wearing dresses and skirts. I look ridiculous in them now.
Then, I entered the Navy. As if that wasn't a dream come true enough, I started dating a shipmate during "A" School.
He was gorgeous. Totally "chick flick" material. In more ways than his looks. He was charming and sweet and he always seemed to know what to say and when it needed to be said. He was smart and helped me, despite my apparent lack of brains. Yes. Oh, yes. He was a "chick flick" man come to life.
Until his fiancée showed up to base.
That's right. I said fiancée.
He was so sweet and charming and neglected to let me know he was already in a relationship.
D'OH!
When we talked about it (calmly, of course! It wouldn't be ladylike of me to yell and scream. Certainly nothing like a "chick flick" heroine.), he looked at me and calmly stated that I was the type of girl that would "make a man question the relationship he's in" on a deeper level so he could know if "it is the right relationship to be in."
In other words: I'll NEVER be the wife. I'll ALWAYS be the mistress. Never "The ONE", but the "OTHER ONE".
Swallow that extremely bitter pill when you're 22 years old.
So, fast forward five years. I've successfully avoided men's affections until I meet my ex-husband.
Like that shipmate, he was good looking and charming. Made me finally feel as though I was "The One".
And three months into our marriage, I found out I was STILL the "Other One."
So, I spent the next few years being the "Other One" (sometimes knowingly and other times, not knowingly) since I know I'll never really be "The One".
Even though I no longer play the role of the other woman, I can not break my mind set. Guys only look at me as though I was the one night stand. How can I believe a guy will look at me as "The One" when they never have and some still don't?
Maybe there are times being "Single and Unwanted" is a good thing. I don't have to worry about my man finding another woman.
But, there are times that it is a very lonely life.
More often than not.
But, that's my life: Lonely. Single. Unwanted.
