Friday, December 28, 2012

Confessions of a mad woman?

Confession. I'm 42 years old and I still don't know how to date, let alone be in a relationship.  ( ... heavy sigh of relief ...).

Some people make it look so easy, and not just movie couples. I have friends who have great relationships. They laugh together, make decisions together, compromise and continue to love each other even when they really don't like each other.

Theoretically, I think I know how to be in a healthy relationship, I just haven't been able to prove my theories, yet. Basically, I'm a lot like Einstein. Oh, wait ... he proved his theory. OK, I'm a lot like the scientists who came up with the String Theory. I believe, I just can't affirm. The equation just hasn't added up ... yet.


Case in point: the adult in me thinks that if you've been dating for around a month and you aren't interested in dating anyone else, it should naturally mean that you're in a relationship, right? Do I need to ask?  When the officer was handing me the restraining order, he told me that boys don't like to be chased. (I kid. About the restraining order, not about my question.)

Unfortunately, the insecure 14 year-old in me thinks that my best friend needs to send him a note in math class asking if he likes me (check "yes," "no," or "maybe," and it had better not be "no" or "maybe"!). :)

One of my less endearing qualities is my inability to just sit back and let things happen. I've always got to have a plan and a back-up plan. Let's just say that I don't really know how to "roll with the punches." It's gotten me pretty far in life, but I think it's time that I learned how to just accept that life will happen and whatever will be, will be. I talk the talk, I need to learn to walk the walk.

The guy that spurred this discourse seems to be just the opposite of me. He's laid back, cool and patient (OK, I'm cool and can be pretty laid back. Patience ... no.) I fight the urge to flip the bird and walk out on my job on a daily basis. He's been at his job for 13 years. See what I mean?

I appreciate that if we were ever confronted by an aging hippy at a restaurant who feels it's her duty to scold us about how we handle our (currently imaginary) kids, he'd likely take the high road, while I think about ways to berate her about her unruly braid and poor hygiene, follow her to her VW bus and throw my left over crab cake sandwich at her. I would really have to fight the urge, trust me.

So, there it is. I like a boy and it kind of freaks me out. Being in a relationship means being insecure and opening myself up for the possibility of rejection ... again. No one likes to be rejected, but how will I ever be able to prove my theory if I don't keep trying?

Carry on.

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