i love and sort of hate when i read something that is so completely me. i love it because i don't feel like a loony bin contestant anymore due to the fact that somewhere out there is a person who can relate. i hate it because most of the time it's an unflattering look in the mirror. it's like an inner emotional walk of shame. except no one is watching but you. and no one is laughing at you but you. and no one wonders what you did but you. and most of the time i look like hell. i need something akin to an emotional long hot shower and a good hard scrubbing to wash it off. then, after the feeling of "holy shit! that's ME to a T!" wears off... i read voraciously onward to find out how they cured that particular cancer in themselves. i'm not finished with the book which means i have not reached the end of this author's journey but her life experiences resonate with me, which really pisses me off. mostly because i'm in my twenties and she's in her later thirties. i don't want to be 10 years older in my real age thanks very much. say what you will about being wise beyond your years and having experience but ya know, that's only cool when you're 10. when you're 27, you want to fucking BE 27. not 30, not 35, not 25... just 27.
ok so this is what i read:
eat, pray, love by elizabeth gilbert pg. 65
"I have boundary issues with men. Or maybe that's not fair to say. To have issues with boundaries, one must have boundaries in the first place, right?" (FUCK YOU LIZ!) "But I disappear into the person that I love. I am the permeable membrane. If I love you, you can have everything. You can have my time, my devotion, my ass, my money, my family, my dog, my dog's money, my dog's time - everything. If I love you, I will carry for you all your pain, I will assume for you all your debts (in every definition of the word), I will protect you from your own insecurity, I will project upon you all sorts of good qualities that you have never actually cultivated in yourself and I will buy Christmas presents for your entire family. I will give you the sun and the rain, and if they are not available, I will give you a sun check and a rain check. I will give you all this and more, until I get so exhausted and depleted that the only way I can recover my energy is by becoming infatuated with someone else."
Every sentence in this paragraph made me think... what a dumb ass. Then I thought... I'm a dumb ass. I met "the man of my dreams" when I was 15. Then I met him again when I was 16, 17, 21, 23, 24, 26 and now 27. Tim, Andy, Ryan, Stephen, Travis, Michael, etc. etc. etc. I mean seriously? I should change the "man of my dreams" cliche to "man of my recent dreams" -or- "he's not the man of my dreams but if i change this and this and definitely THAT, then he will be... i hope". At some point or another we all do this, however, most of us, wait, most of YOU, eventually learn that it's never gonna happen sweetie. Which is a good thing! The sooner you learn that the man of your dreams is the man you don't need to change, the better off you are.
HOOOOWever... then there's me! :) I am kind of the exception to every rule in some way or another. So am I better off now that I believe this new revelation? (hahaha) No. Of course not. I'm still the martyr in relationships, give give give. I don't believe I can change someone, so I go through guys like a world champion hot dog consumer. No sense of humor? Dumped. Ugly jeans? Dumped. Stupid hair? Dumped. Hate your family? Dumped. Walk weird? Dumped. I am... in a word... picky. So picky that I think I have hopped, skipped, and jumped over the pond to the other extreme of dumb ass. I'm kind of a relationship retard. I fall fast and hard and all that other pisces crap. This is a terrible place... picky. I don't want a fuck buddy either.
Please, anything but that! Please. I beg of you, the relationship retard gods... At one point, not that long ago, I really wanted this. But certain events have taken place that made me realize that it's not the sex I crave nor the attention. And let's have a side bar here while we're on the FB topic. OK, women... AWESOME at this kind of relationship. We know the rules. We understand this game. This game is simple. WE hang out, we watch a movie, we fuck, we eventually GO HOME. No strings. No DTR conversations. Just sex. Nothing else. Guys... fail epically and this type of relationship. I was talking to one of my friends the other day about this particular "relationship". She is gay and has a lot of female friends who talk to her about their man issues. Every single one that has ever had a fuck buddy and then proceeded to find a real relationship ended up getting snubbed by the FB. Why, you ask? Because the dude got attached. That's right... HE wanted a relationship.
This happened to me. Before my last relationship began I had a great friend who I also had sex with. We started out as strictly JUST FBs. Then all of a sudden he wanted to take me to dinner and wanted to cook for me and brought me presents and gave me his sweatshirts to wear and left his clothes in my house, etc. We were dating without the official label. Through out this whole weird ordeal, I was actively dating other men. FB would get pissed! And jealous! OMG... jealous. And then would show up the next day wanting to talk and cuddle, etc. It was the weirdest thing. So one night I grew a pair and asked him what the deal was. I was tired of his weird mood. His reply... nothing. Absolute silence. And then... snoring. So clearly this was not a subject he wanted to breech. It was absolutely ridiculous. So when I actually ended up in a relationship, he quit talking to me altogether and still to this day will talk to me for about 5 minutes and then he "has to go". I hurt him. I didn't mean to. I thought we were just having sex and being friends. Apparently, he was developing feelings but didn't want to talk about it. So do I want this again? No, I think I'm ok with loneliness for now. Fuck buddies equal drama... unforeseen drama even.
I am a matchmaker's nightmare. I will give them my list of must haves and must nots and they will giggle themselves to sleep. I'm picky. I don't want a fuck buddy. I hate dating. All you fans of dating must be swimming in a pool with cool fish because mine suck. That's right, I'm swimming in a talk full of plecostomus. It's funny because I want to be in a relationship, get married, have kids and all that. But in order for that to transpire I have to date. It's sort of like wanting to be a doctor but hating school. It's completely contradictory and ironic but hey... so is using war to achieve peace.
So bless you, Elizabeth Gilbert and your genius of eat, pray, love. I can't wait to read what your journey taught you. Mostly because I am now using your book without permission as a compass. My north is my south for the moment. You remind me of myself and unfortunately you are older than me and hopefully, by the end of this book, wiser. Because I want to be 27, not 35. I want to steal your wisdom and your experiences and apply them to my own crazy cancer that is eating away at all that is lovely and wonderful in this weird, illogical world of love. I want to walk by a mirror and not hang my head in shame after another round of "why did i date that guy?" and "what went wrong?" I want to walk by and give myself a thumbs up for a date done well. A big rockin' smile for not fucking it all up.