Questions with no answers

As I alluded to in the earlier post, today was not a good day. I woke up with a sore throat, I was told by the woman I am crazy about that she can’t risk a relationship with me, I have an exam on Monday that I’m not ready for and a paper due on Tuesday that I’m not finished with.

Once again, I find myself in situations that I can’t control. It’s a typical story of my life, and if it wasn’t so typical, I wouldn’t be the ordinary person that I am. Sure, I like to think that I’m exceptional. I like to think I’m special. We all do. But when it comes down to it, there’s absolutely nothing special or exceptional about my story. Instead, my life is defined by an overwhelming sense of what is ordinary, what is the norm.

I was in love once. True, never ending love. Or so I thought. Because it did end, not because I wanted it too, but because sometimes things just quit for no apparent reason at all. I spent long months grappling with that failure only come to the realization that there is nothing special or unique in that story. It just died a sad death and there was nothing I could have done to stop it. No, that fell apart for reasons that are petty and not my own. Perhaps that explains the overriding sense of helplessness that makes me reluctant to ever put myself at risk like that again. Because even when you love someone terribly, they can still walk away at the drop of a dime.

I only relate this because my life is not defined by the women I’ve loved, instead, it’s defined by the women I haven’t loved. Some people seem to have no problem finding happy and healthy relationships. That’s not me. I have anything but an easy time in that regard. In fact, if there’s one simple rule that defines my life, a truism if you will, it’s this: When one thing is going good, everything else falls to pieces. For example, when I moved to DC, I went with the intention of finding a career, something that was right for me. I didn’t find that, not in four years. Instead, I found love, and even that, in the end, wasn’t enough. Since that time, my professional life has improved because of my decision to pursue higher education. But my love life has remained a constant failure on every measure. Today is just another spin of the wheel. At the same time I get crudely thrown on the “friend train”, I get the top grade on my last paper.

That’s why I’m not surprised at this latest turn of events. In fact, I expected it. It’s a simple formula for me: Meet a great woman, pursue her, she walks. Nothing has ever been so easier to see. Either I get the “friend” thing early on or she looks at the long term future and says “I can’t take the risk, let’s be friends.” It’s the sad reality of the situation, like a friend of mine said once, “Steve, face it, you have terrible luck with women.”

If I’ve noticed one growing divergence between myself and the women I meet and pursue it’s that I’m always the one who is willing to take the risks. Given my history, that makes no sense. I should be the one reluctant to engage in something serious. But I never am. This latest episode is just a snapshot of how my strategy, no matter what that is, always fails. I told myself not to invest too much, trust my instincts, and see where things lead. So, when you have a date with someone that leads to small intimacy like hand holding and smooching, you think that it’s worked out. Nope, not at all. That’s, in fact, the very moment that you are certain that it’s over. There is no promised land. There is no future. Maybe that’s why I’m always willing to take the risks, because at some point I just know that all the risks in the world won’t add up to anything because there’s never a future to have in the first place.

That’s a wildly pessimistic view, but really, can you blame me? I’ve lived, I’ve loved so the song goes. At 29, single and freshly with no prospects on the horizon, my life is a revolving door of hopes and crushing losses (much like my beloved Redskins). Just when I meet a woman fantastically suited to me (probably the most compatible of any I’ve ever met), just when I think that my long winter is almost over, she turns around and gives me the brush off. It’s not crushing because I thought I had already fallen in love with her, it’s crushing because once again, hope had managed to fill me up only to be rudely and brusquely slapped down. This is why I should not believe as I do that there is hope for us all. Because just when you think you’ve found a little, subtle reminders of the one truth are thrown out in favor of cold, bruising reality of the situation.

Maybe this is why Smooth Like Butta’ is such an animal or predator. He’s already learned that looking for anything deeper than easy sex is a recipe for disappointment and heart ache. Instead, he insulates himself in shallow ventures because he never has to put himself on the line – “It’s not personal”. And maybe that’s why this stings a little more than it should, because it IS personal. She did get to know me. She did go out with me. And she still decided she couldn't take the risk. If I was truly the catch of the century (or whatever), then wouldn’t things work out in my favor?

I have to be 100% honest here. On the 8th of November, I predicted this would happen. In my private journal I wrote (edited for length and repetition):

“I shouldn’t have doubts. I should just trust in the feeling I had when I met her. If my gut is telling me 100% that we connected and that she likes me just as much as I like her, then that should be sufficient. But for some reason, it’s not. I think there are several factors in play:

My History – Generally I have terrible luck with women.
Alcohol – Whenever alcohol is in play, that can change a few things. When people are drunk, they are more willing to do things than when sober. It can change things.
Confidence – I just don’t have a lot of it. Sure, I can act with the best of them. I can put off this air of confidence, but it breaks down in private. I just like to know where I stand. All I ever wanted was a woman to love me, but that’s always been hard for me. Even the one truly great relationship I had wasn’t a boon for my confidence after awhile. Of course, that’s more to do with how she ended it.

I don’t think women understand that there are lots of blokes like me: handsome, smart, funny, optimistic – ready to be scooped up and signed to long term contracts. Sure, you hear a lot about guys not being able to commit, and it’s certainly true for some guys, but there are tons of men ready to commit to the right woman. Finding her is a different story.

I’m tired of being a free agent. It’s been almost a year and a half since things went South in DC and I’m chomping at the bit to find someone special. It’s not the kind of desire I had a year ago where I missed that person and was desperate for any connection. It’s more mature. Instead, it’s the stark realization that not only do I have a lot to offer, but also someone out there has a lot to offer me. I don’t know if the latest woman is her or not, but I’ll never lose faith that there is a woman out there that can simply ‘make me a better man.’ You can only grow so much on your own. I’m ready to step forward and leave the past in the past.”

Or so I thought. Instead, I allowed myself to be deceived by False Hope. And because I’m into nicknames, I'm strongly considering renaming the Real Deal as False Hope. But I'll hold off a bit, if only because False Hope or not, she's still the Real Deal.

Where does this leave me? I don’t know. When one thing is going great (school), everything else falls apart. Not only is my heart not really into studying, I’m not feeling very well and I just can’t seem to concentrate enough to really study.

Of course, that’s the microcosm. On the macro level, I truly don’t know. I feel like I should just give up, stop trying. I’m truly fatigued from putting myself on the line, putting my heart and ego on the line, only to experience failure after failure. Someone told me once that great things happen when you least expect it, when you’re not looking for it. That’s been true before, but I thought that was the situation this time as well. In fact, I pretty much had given up before meeting the Real Deal. So I don’t know how much more I can give up. I’m tired of the game. I’m tired of flirting. I’m tired off all that bullshit.

At the same time, I refuse to put my love life (such as it is) on hold while I’m abroad or while my life is unsettled. To do that would be to potentially miss out on a great situation (something I like to think that the Real Deal is doing). So here I am again, once more filled with the Yin-Yang of Pessimism-Optimism. My outlook is generally bleak, but I still have a smidgeon of Pandora’s hope somewhere. As little sense as that makes.

On a final note, I don't think there's anything unreasonable about her point of view. In fact, it makes complete sense logically. But at some point, life is always about taking chances and I think I've learned that the hard way. Maybe she hasn't. I don't know.