Path of thorns

I have a friend who’s going through a tough time right now, over the end of a relationship, and it got me to thinking. And thinking, in the Caterwauling hacienda, usually makes this author live up to the domain name she chose so brilliantly. 🙂

I write this without the benefit of ever having had a normal, stable relationship where the timing was right for both parties simultaneously. But that has given me enough wisdom and insight to realize when it’s time to either find the door or usher someone to it.

A gal at work had once told me about how, in relationships, she makes it clear from the beginning that she’s in it for keeps, so much so that if you ever hurt her, you will pay. She jokes that going psycho on them immediately scares them into submission. And while I laugh heartily at that, I can admit that the one time I went psycho on somebody, he was more than happy to run screaming.

In other instances, I am more of the attitude that, if things aren’t working, somebody needs to leave. I mean, hell, relationships and dating are hard enough without the extra added obstacles (read: enough baggage to get you through a six-month trip to Europe).

Even with people who are battered (physically or emotionally), they tend to overstay their welcome in their relationships. Why? They stay for the good things, the good times, the good memories. They give thanks for the little things — a day without arguments, a great vacation full of togetherness, a night without ending in the E.R. 😉 I was in a “mercy relationship” once — no matter how many times I broke it off, he just wouldn’t go away, and I got too tired to fight him anymore. I took the time we were together to just mentally check out and play with my imaginary friends inside my head — I got my “alone time” when he was in the room with me. Yet, once in awhile, we’d connect on some level, and I could look at him and wonder if, just if, the timing were right, could we have made it work.

Of course, because that was my first relationship, I gave it a lot more life support than the insurance company would permit. Sometimes, it’s best for everyone involved to just sign the DNR papers and turn the button off.

Same thing with my last relationship (almost two years ago — gaah!). We didn’t have a thing to say to each other, but we could sure fuck like rabbits on crack. And while, at the time, that was great for me (I worked 65-hour weeks and didn’t have the time to invest in dating), it got old. Seriously, I was starting to wonder who he was fucking when I was writing 75-page proposals in my office at midnight, and I told him flat-out that my health (mental, physical and especially sexual) was too important for me to be playing reindeer games. The message I wanted to send was hey, we either exchange conversation in addition to bodily fluids, or we need to put a stop to this. He was clearly guilty of screwing around, I figured it out and it was over, no questions asked.

He did call quite a few times after that, for some Saturday night specials, but I hung up on him every time. Ironically, I went on to have a series of one-night stands with colleagues and people I met on the Internet, and he went on to have a long-term relationship that I think is still going on. It’s not that I was against casual sex or that he was against monogamy (I think) — it’s just that we didn’t want those things at the same time, or, quite frankly, with each other.

A part of me, of course, takes pause to wonder why he could commit to this new girl but not to me. But that same part of me knows that we had a good thing — being fuck buddies — that was right for both of us at that time. But as time went on, I realized this was going nowhere. And I’m all about enjoying the journey more than the destination, but I also wanted to know up-front whether it was time to make the next leg of the journey solo … that maybe there was someone else more worthy of the ride (in all senses of the word!).

In essence, that was my advice to my buddy — enjoy it for what it’s worth, and if the stars aren’t aligned, then the path needs to change. We all chalk up a lot to experience, but that’s OK — it’s better than waiting for things to change by themselves.

I was talking to Shawn the other day, somewhere between six shots of Apple Pucker, the D.C. Eagle and Club Chaos, how ridiculous it is that, for women, the biological clock issue has to exist. I mean, damn, Shan was 35 when she had Alex, and all of her doctors were yapping about how medically risky it is for women over 35 to breed. Shit, I don’t expect to have collided with the love of my life by then (I’ll admit it’s six years from now, but I plan to be 29 for at least most of those years!), let alone trust and love someone enough to want to continue this ridiculously messed up line of genetics that I’ve inherited with them. 🙂

And sure, I’m enlightened enough to know that if I really want a kid, I don’t need anything more than a turkey baster and someone willing to jack off in a cup. But on the other hand, there is that minor pressure to not put the carriage before the horse. But I might not be ready for all of that until I’m 40, if then.

(Okay, THAT tangent was pretty random!)

Back to my original point, it’s almost like there’s a clock within each of us, reminding us that we’re (insert age) and we don’t have a meaningful relationship; therefore, what’s wrong with us? But on the other hand, the way I see it is that we’ve waited too long to get into something that isn’t absolutely ideal. It’s all fun and games till someone cums in loses an eye. And if I’m going to lose my heart, they’d better damn well be worth losing it for, and they’d better be putting theirs on the line right next to mine.

Till then, I’m stayin’ single and enjoying that for what it’s worth, too. But, admittedly, I wouldn’t mind not spending another cold winter alone. Of course, when I meet someone worth my time and affections, hell might just freeze over, so keep those sweaters handy!!! 😉

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