I know that it’s been almost 3 months since my last post. In my defense, it hasn’t been three months since I’ve written anything, it’s just been three months since I’ve written anything that I felt comfortable enough to publish. My draft box is chock-full of drafted blog posts that got to varying degrees of length before fizzling out. This post is no different. I just spent the last 3 hours writing the very blog post I’m now presently re-writing. And I’ve already trashed 9 different drafts of it… Welcome to draft 10!
The problem has been, the subject has been the same. I’ve been, for three whole months, trying to write about romance and my dating life over the last 6-7 years. Each time, I get to a certain point, start re-reading and realized that I’ve written a lot of stuff, but none of it for an external audience. None of it makes sense.
Which is appropriate, considering I never ever really get a chance to talk about this issue aloud, so I’m less articulate when it comes to trying to parse my thoughts on it. Even this post is beginning to feel like it’s not at all the direction I’d like to go in…
In full disclosure, I did, indeed, write at least five more paragraphs in this post. But no matter how many times I write it, it never comes out right. It feels like there are a million different things I could talk about and talking only about one would leave the others inadequately explained.
In truth, my dating/romantic life isn’t very complicated at all. It’s non-existent. I haven’t been in a relationship in almost 7 years. I haven’t even had “close calls” in the time since. In truth, I’ve never had a relationship as an adult in my entire life. Never.
I don’t know how you get into one. I don’t know what they’re like. I don’t know what a relationship argument sounds like. I don’t know how you resolve them. I don’t know what it sounds like to have someone say they love you in a non-familial, non-platonic way. I don’t know what it feels like to wake up to someone who wants to wake up to you. I don’t know those things.
And it’s frustrating. It really is. For one, it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy. No one wants to be with the person no one wants to be with. So the longer you’re single, the bigger that red flag looks. Why hasn’t anyone wanted to fuck him? Why has no one locked him down? If he’s so cool and attractive, why has everyone else run? Why do I like him? Am I weird? What’s wrong with me that’s not wrong with everyone else? What am I not seeing? I know there’s some obvious flaw that I’m just not catching…
The reason for my “drought”, if you will, hasn’t been nearly as interesting as that line of questioning would anticipate or suggest, but I don’t know if that makes it any better. I don’t know if anyone truly cares why one isn’t betrothed, as long as they’re not.
Look, this post isn’t working out. But I’m at least transparent enough to publish my frustrations. Bah.