Have I missed my fate?

OK, I’m going to regret taking this break but fuck it; I’m eating a delivered lunch from my beloved Bennigan’s and since I can’t go back there in person yet (don’t ask. You really don’t want to know), Waiter On the Way is the only way I can enjoy their delicious, delicious food.


You know that movie that reduced me to tears? So I had to yell at the friend who recommended it to me. Because, seriously. I was supposed to go out afterward and I couldn’t because I was one hot, heaving puffy mess. And goddamn it, it made me think. Hard.

Spoiler alert: I mentioned that to my friend, how the guy goes back to his skank-whore girlfriend and the girl is stuck in a loveless life without him. Sure, there’s the possibility that they will find each other again — they’re too interconnected for this to be the end. But Jesus Christ, what do you do when the boy is too far out of your reach for you to let that dream keep living?

And my friend made a very good point, that the girl never really acted like she was all that interested. Because, well, how’s a man supposed to know how to proceed when she’s holding back so much?

And that sort of stopped me cold. Because I AM THAT GIRL. I am the one who will lavish you with my affections IF AND ONLY IF I feel like they’re going to be reciprocated. If I’m sitting around wondering if the slightest thing is going to send somebody running, or if I even feel it at all, I won’t test the waters a whole lot.

I guess I just expect men will be more over-the-top in their pursuit. I spent too much time chasing rainbows in my day to really have the courage to keep at it. And I hate it that I feel that way, but I do.

I also feel like I’ve rejected so many people in my day, for so many STUPID reasons, that the universe is probably going to kick my ass the next time I stick my neck out. So I just don’t.

Men are obvious. I think. If they’ve got a hard-on, they’re interested. Am I wrong, ladies? I mean, I’m starting to really wonder if they don’t, then they actually do “like me” like me.

“Go to her, foolish man
What’s the use of having pride if you don’t have her?
She’ll endure all she can
But you could make this easier on her.”

Bic Runga, “She Left on a Monday”

All this dating bullshit is making my fucking head hurt. I tend to presume that if I can’t figure a guy out whether he’s into me or not, then he’s clearly not and it’s time to move on. And yes, it tends to be head-spinningly fast in my world — the revolving door of “maybe, but don’t think so”s.

But. …

I’m not giving off any vibes, either.

At least, I always thought I was.

But maybe I wasn’t.

Maybe I was holding back even more than they were.

I’m a modern girl, but I tend to fall into habits that I daresay are provincial in nature. I let them take the lead. Whether it’s in picking a place for dinner or whether it’ll be a low-key or a dress-up night, I’m cool with just dressing for the occasion as opposed to picking the occasion. Some think it’s wishy-washy, especially those who need to have a plan in mind and aren’t always in the mood to pick that plan. On the other hand, when I’ve gone ahead and planned the days, I always felt like it wasn’t good enough for them. I don’t apologize for much of anything unless it’s to shut someone up, but I find myself apologizing if they don’t have fun at the events I select. Because I get THAT vibe loud and clear. I am perceptive like that. And again, MEN ARE OBVIOUS.

So, God knows enough of you have been out with me. 😉 Do I hold back? Do you tell your friends, “What a cold broad that one is!” Do you feel like I’m holding you at arm’s length? Because I do. I know I do. Because I am terrified I am going to fall for you and I’m going to be the only one feeling that way.

I date like a guy. I do pretty much everything like a guy that I can without having to strap anything on. But I’m such a girl inside. I cry and I pine and I long and I want and I dream … when I let myself.

I want to be a girl. I want to be courted and loved and placed on a pedestal. I don’t want to have the potential love of my life leave to spend HIS life with some slut-skank whorebag when I was here all along, hoping he’d do something dramatic to show me that I wasn’t the only one dreaming of something working out between us. I don’t want to look back and learn that he would have hung around if only I had done something dramatic to keep him around.

I was watching an old “Sex and the City” episode this weekend, when Mr. Big moved to Napa. And the question Carrie had posited was, “What if you make a mistake and miss your fate?”

And the answer, of course, was that the mistakes lead us TO our fates.

In some cases and maybe even in mine, I wonder if it can lead me BACK to where I was supposed to be all along.

Or maybe I’m already there and don’t even realize it because I’m too busy hiding in my little citadel.

Rapunzel’s going to throw down her hair one of these days. Well, theoretically, anyway. More like I’m going to stick out my foot if I see fate coming back around. Damn it, I’m going to live the love story I so desperately want to be able to write about.

I have always, always expected that I’d end up with whomever I’m supposed to be with — no matter how many mistakes were made along the way. And I trust the universe wholeheartedly in that. But where I’m losing my cookies is in holding up my end of the bargain. What am I doing — or NOT doing — that would either expedite the process or ensure that I’m not fucking everything up in the interim?

Seriously, guys. I hate to go all “Scott Baio is 45 and Single” here, but Goddess is 33 and fucked-up in the head right now. How can I either make things right with what’s going on right now, or ensure that I start off the next one (if that’s the way the cookie will crumble) so perfectly that if something goes wrong, it’s not going to be because I was frigid everywhere but horizontally?

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