Bitter. Thirsty. Desperate. Jaded. Single.

Bitter. Thirsty. Desperate. Jaded. Single. 

You could justifiably describe me with all of those words.

How is it that I have friends who have been engaged, married, and had kids multiple times over before I have ever even been proposed to? I'm not THAT old, am I? I guess I'm not really that young either. 

But, my optimism and humor about love you've heard from me in the past has now waned. Love doesn't conquer all. Love doesn't heal. Love doesn't.....anything. It certainly doesn't last. Not for me. 

I'm so confused by it. Love makes me hate myself because I have none of it, but it seems to be all around me almost taunting me. How f**ked up is that? 

I've believed in love, hoped for love, wished for love. I've asked for love. I've prayed for love. I've looked for love. I've chased after love. I've waited for love. I've fought for love. 

I have to let go of all of that. I have to put it down and walk away. I have to shut down all of my desire for love. Because it's made me all of those things: Bitter. Thirsty. Desperate. Jaded. And worst of all, Single.

I've become the person I never thought I would be. 

I find myself unable to hold back tears when I get the news that a friend or coworker is newly engaged or married or pregnant. I never thought that I would be the kind of person who let someone else's happiness shine a light on my own unhappiness. I never thought I would see someone's fulfillment as my personal measurement. I never thought I would find myself on the unhappiness side of the equation. But as embarrassing as it is, that is me. 

And I don't know how to let go of that. So I carry it with me on dates, with friends, wherever. My identity is so tied up in in wondering why no one loves me. I can't stop asking myself where I went wrong.

I'm still genuinely happy for my friends who have good things in their lives. They genuinely deserve every good thing that goes their way, probably more so than myself. Those of you who know me personally, know that I have done my fair share of breaking hearts. You probably think that I am getting what I deserve. 

That might be so. 

But what most people don't know is that I don't think I fully understood relationships for most of my life. I still don't. I didn't have good relationships modeled for me. I always saw narcissistic one-sided relationships that pushed people away when they didn't meet expectations.

This sounds pretty crazy, but recently I was watching the television show "Married At First Sight" where trained professionals choose candidates based on a multitude of compatibility factors and ultimately get married at first sight. Then the couple proceeds to move in together and figure out how to live their lives together. After 8 weeks, they decide if they want to stay married.

I watched these couples who were deemed "perfect" for one another as they learned to communicate and compromise and make decisions considering the other person's feelings and desires. I can't pinpoint the exact moment it sank in, but I remember feeling dumbfounded.

Ooooooohhh. You have to work at relationships. You have to listen to the other person and consider them. Huh.....

I don't think I fully had a clear picture of what that meant, and what that looked liked until that point.

When I was coming up, we called people like that "pussy-whipped" or controlling. I came from a family who used phrases like "It's my way or the highway" or "Just get over it" or "If you don't like it then leave". Over the years, I definitely incorporated many variations of these phrases into my own relationships. All of my relationships took the highway over my way.

So I'm the broken component here. I get it. 

I'm not sure if that makes things better or worse. It's all my fault, which can normally mean that I can also be the one to change it. But my terrible personality, my intensity, or curt communication and needy nature doesn't change easily. Trust me, I've tried. I have been reading up on neurosculpting to include several books about changing one's personality to be more optimistic or relaxed. The science is still nothing to hang my hat on. Most of the information out there is lots and lots of science and studies without much of a solid game plan to help unbearable humans like myself. 

So in the meantime, I will show up to the weddings and baby showers with a big smile on my face and "Congratulations" on my lips. I will leave the tears for my own time, and continue to observe love as though I were standing on the outside of a shop looking through the window at it. 

Asshole

I was laying in bed with my ex. We had recently broken up, and was doing the whole back-and-forth limbo, knew-it-was-over-but-kept-going-back-for-more-hurt routine. I kept hoping he would get this epiphany that he wanted to be a better person, listen to me, care about what I had to say, and communicate back. I knew I needed to work on those things as well so I decided to listen closely for a change. Here is what I heard:

I can't remember what topic we were discussing when he brought up a story about a girl he had a sexual fling with before we met. He and a date had gotten very drunk and began getting very kinky. They started playing with each other's butts. Annnnndddd he licked her asshole. The way he described it, he made out with it. It was a whole encounter that his mouth had with her ass....a woman he barely knew. I'm sure he went on to defend himself from my heckling over the encounter, but once I zeroed in on that fact, I didn't hear much else. 

Some weeks later, after being in so much misery over the break up I called him up and asked him if he was interested in working things out. I believed we still had chemistry, and all we needed was some counseling in order to be better. 

He said he would think about it while he was away on a business trip.

During those few days, I waited on pins and needles. I couldn't eat. Couldn't sleep. I sat by the phone all day waiting for a call, a text, some sign as to what his answer would be. I genuinely had hope for us. I counted down the minutes until he would be home. I considered surprising him at the airport with a sign the way I had done when we first met. 

Somewhere in the middle of my anxiety I started looking at his social media accounts. I needed a sign. I wanted to see if he had had any activity to prove he had in fact been around his phone and he was just choosing not to contact me. No activity that I could see. So I looked to see who he was following.

Since I had previously snuck a peak at his phone I knew the names of a couple of women he had been talking to on Tinder. Sure enough, I found their names among the list. In addition, I found close to 20 other pages with names like "Country Babes" and "Combat Honeys" and "Girls with Assets". They were filled with half naked photo-shopped women looking to score some attention and likes. 

This had not been the man I knew previously. When we first met, he acted like he was a wannabe family man. His siblings were married and had kids so he felt like he was looking for someone to join him to complete the family. He portrayed himself as a Bible-thumping, "Jesus is my homie" type of guy. We went to church, small groups with other Christians, prayed before dinner, made Christmas about Christ, and did the whole wholesome charade hoping it would parlay into a whole married with kids thing.

Now here I was hoping we could just put the pieces back together. We just needed Jesus. We just needed counseling. We just needed to forgive and forget.

But as I stared at the social media account, the truth was right in front of me. Some men are at the stage of their life that they become more focused on becoming someone and giving their energy towards relationships that will be around awhile, and others are satisfied getting drunk and licking assholes. 

I was in one group. He was in the other. And there is no amount of Jesus and counseling and praying and begging or cajoling that was going to fix that. I just had to listen and hear that inside.

I could see now that he thought he wanted to be the family man when we first met. But as I got to know him, the truth of who he was came to light. He also realized that he was indeed not the family man he imitated. He was the drunk asshole.........................licker.