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Dating Diary:
A dating history worthy of therapy...
Dear Diary,
WHERE WERE WE?
THE ASTERISK
Getting your stuff back from an ex-boyfriend is like getting a bikini wax. It's a long and painful process that you'd rather never do, but when it's over you breathe a huge sigh of relief - until you have to do it again. Luckily, I only needed a couple of items from the devil's spawn. We haven't spoken since November, although I had the misfortune of bumping into him several times after that. I began the correspondence by e-mail, and he replied the same day, claiming he did not have the items I specified. I responded by saying that indeed he did, and sure enough, several days later he confirmed that I was correct (as if I would make this stuff up). That's when our communication stopped abruptly, as I suggested he arrange a date for me to pick up my belongings. Several e-mails later, still no reply from him. I decided to tackle the phone, dreading the mere thought of calling of him. Fortunate for him, he possessed caller I.D., which enabled him to screen my unblocked calls. Three weeks later and still no word for him, which culminated into a rambling and threatening message on his machine. It went something like this: "I need my stuff back, you (questionable words)! Either I get my things back, or if you've become so attached to them, pay me back for them, you (more questionable words). (And more questionable words)." I didn't expect a reply from that, but it sure made me feel better. A miracle of miracles happened, though, and a couple of days later he dropped them off. Even more fortunate was the fact that I wasn't home when this occurred, thus eliminating any chance of violence towards said devil's spawn.It's hard to keep a friendship going when the romance dies. There's the awkward post-break-up period, where suddenly the person you've been so close with seems like a stranger. You dance around the whole separation and act like nothing's happened, although one person is usually not content with the break-up. Then there's the realization that it's actually over, and you will see other people. I guess humans are possessive by nature. It's hard to let go of someone, even if you're not in love with them anymore. There's only one ex-boyfriend that I keep in touch with, and we've known each other for five years now. I wished I had been able to maintain the friendship with others, but it never worked out that way.
This was probably because most of them were asinine and borderline jackasses. My dating history reads like a Dating Don'ts Manual. It's easy to look back and laugh now, but the laughter is usually followed by crying and more crying. I really don't know how these things happen to me, but I'm almost certainly sure it's going to plague me for the rest of my life. You know what they say - unlucky in cards, unlucky in love. I've never won a game of War in my life, so you know what I'm getting at.
There was Andrew*, who was a lifetime ago. He liked to make out in movie theatres. Sadly, he lacked the skills in the kissing department. He had this neat trick of salivating over my whole chin and trying to choke me with his tongue. On one occasion, I actually feigned sleep during a movie so that he would keep his super-lips to himself. Yes, for a whole hour and a half I pretended I had passed out, but of course I was wide awake the whole time. It was my best performance yet.
Then there was Philip*, who thought a good time was hanging out in school yards getting high. While I don't need a man to wine and dine me to impress me, actually going somewhere and doing something is nice. Philip had a bad habit of wanting to play doctor all the time, which gets old really fast. The only thing we had in common was a tendency of hanging up on each other over the phone. He was a Drama Queen, but I must admit, he did it amusingly. We had a "Friends"-type of split, with us being on a "break" and him running around with an acquaintance during that period. We did talk afterwards, but it was hard to get a conversation started with all the hanging up.
I met Jack* during work, which I should have seen as an indication that it would never work. He was the type of person who loved himself the most. He wore leather jackets and numerous gold chains around his neck. People who saw us together must have thought he was my pimp. Needless to say, it didn't last long.
Alex* and I didn't actually date. It was a flirtation that started one summer and ended when he impregnated his ex-girlfriend. Next.
Even though I was attracted to Jonathan*, we were very incompatible. It was hard to have conversations with him because he didn't speak. Okay, he did talk, but only when you prodded and prodded and broke him down. It took weeks for me to find out what his favourite type of foods were and what high school he attended. He was also beyond shy. I figured it would take me another year to get to first base with him. While I am a patient Taurus, there are some things you just can't wait around for.
And that's the tip of the iceberg. I've resigned myself to a stress-free summer, and that includes no relationships for the near future. If it happens, it happens, but I'm not thinking about long-term engagements here. Coincidentally, there was also Nathan*, who was a sweet guy with bad timing. I told him that I wasn't really looking for a relationship, but my options were open. My male friends scoffed at my comment, convinced that any man would love a no-strings-attached type of relationship. Well, silly me, Nathan was looking for more than that. A man who would rather settle down than engage in casual dating? Now I know the universe is collapsing on itself.
(And for those of you wondering if I've found my mojo - I did, and it was GOOD, but it was definitely a temporary loan.) ¤ C.Ho.
Next month: Can men and women be just friends? Christine tries to get the goods.