Entries in relationship (8)
I haven't had a boyfriend for a while. It's been over four years. I've exclusively dated two guys at various times during those four years who, as it turns out, weren't exclusively dating me. Faithful concubine. That sucked.
Sometimes I wonder what it'd be like to have a boyfriend. The last one I had was Lorelai's dad. And that... well... it felt less like a relationship+more like... I don't know what.
I wonder what it'd be like to have a boyfriend. One that's like, "Hey. Wanna be my (only) girlfriend?"
I'm mostly ok being single. There's three instances where, everytime they come up, I yell in my head, "I WISH I HAD A BOYFRIEND!"
- When I have to bring the groceries in from my car. Even then, a boyfriend wouldn't be able to help unless he was around when I was bringing the groceries in.
- When I want ice cream late at night. This is a common occurrence. At least twice a week.
- When I want to cook something that I'm sure Lorelai wouldn't appreciate, but a sweetheart would. I cook for her plenty, but I just don't think she'll enjoy my fish tacos. Mostly cus the sauce I use is spicy. I bet a boyfriend would like them!
I mean. There's other times that a boyfriend would be cool. I'm sure you can imagine when. But those three bullet points above make me wish I had a beau every.single.time.
There's a few hurdles that I need to get over before I could be like, "Ok. I'm changing my Facebook status to In A Relationship." Some of them include:
- Lorelai. Can't have a boyfriend without my kid liking, NAY! Loving him. Also, family. My family is so dope. They need to accept him.
- Time. Space. Boundaries. He's got to respect them. I like alone time. I need it for a lot of reasons. Overshare of time/space/boundaries is not gonna work. I love being in good company, but need to be able to decompress or just chill solo.
- Humor. MUST. BE. FUNNY. And must get my humor. This is a big deal. Hot+unfunny is like being Hot+a whale. Like, wtf am I gonna do with that?!
- Trust. Blahblahblah. I don't have major trust issues, per se. I don't have higher trust expectations for a lover than I do anyone else. But I just want to feel good about things.
- etc. etc. etc.
There are some perks, I imagine, to being my sweetheart. Just cus the relationships with Lorelai's dad+my pseudo-boyfriends crashed+burned doesn't mean that I can't have a successful, happy, fulfilling coupledom with someone, right? Here's just a small fraction of why I'd rock as a girlfriend:
- I rock.
- I have my own sh*t.
- I like to build things.
- etc. etc. etc.
This isn't a personal ad or anything. I think I'm managing the single life ok. Sometimes people in relationships are just so bummed all the time. I don't want that. I just want someone that'll eat my tacos.
I used to work in an office as the receptionist. I could see out into the walkway. People would come to our office+they'd go next door+they'd go upstairs. Lots of people all the time.
There was an older, retired-aged man named Randy who would do pick-ups/deliveries to the dentist next door. I'd wave when he waved. He had a nice smile+very kind, foggy eyes.
I don't recall how we started chatting, but we'd talk for a few minutes when he made his deliveries. He started to bring me very pretty roses from his garden. He cut the thorns off. He told me about his wife that passed away+showed me her picture. She's beautiful. He'd tell me about his church group. He'd keep bringing flowers. He made me happy.
He asked me to go to lunch one day. I said yes. We were going to go a few days later. I looked forward to it.
I was scared to tell the guy I was dating at the time that my friend Randy wanted to treat me to lunch. Even though there was quite obviously nothing going on with Randy, I was in a relationship with my boyfriend where I felt compelled to tell him everything in some hopes of getting his approval+acceptance+his ok. He had the power. I was too scared to not tell him something. I was scared he'd find out. That I wouldn't be at my desk when he called. It was bad. A lot worse than I can describe.
I told my boyfriend. He didn't approve+told me I couldn't go. He asked what the fuck was wrong with me.
I told Randy I couldn't go. He asked why+I told him my boyfriend had a problem with it. Randy said that he just wanted to go to lunch+that was it. I told him I knew and I stammered something+went back to my desk.
Randy looked so confused. And crushed.
I felt horrible.
Randy was so kind. I loved his roses. He told me how to take care of them. I kept them at my desk. I couldn't bring them home.
I felt terrible.
Randy was my friend. He was a friend when I'd become completely alienated from everyone that mattered in my life because of my overbearing, codependent, abusive relationship. I let my friend down.
I regret it. It actually physically hurts my insides to think about it. Where my heart is, down to my belly; it hurts when I think about it.
(I want to find Randy so I can take him to lunch.)
Currently, I'd be more comfortable vomiting up my theoretical heart+nailing it to a wall so it can have a chance to thaw out from its current frigid state than tackle the prospect of loving+being loved.
I'm ok with this.