In our glory days, Gay Boyfriend and I used to adore the above movie. Mostly because we liked to get stoned on Percocet and watch other dysfunctional people party, have sex and generally act more obscene than we did. It made us seem normal.
If you haven’t seen the movie and you are over the age of 30, you probably won’t find any redeeming quality in it. Even at 27, I re-watched it and found some of it slightly disturbing and unnecessary. However, the truth in this film lies in its dark thesis: Finding the symbiance between who you are attracted to, and who is attracted to you is often a painful, confusing journey, which you are in no way in control of.
There was no easing back into work this week. Piles of paper, phone calls and emails bombarded my cubicle starting at 8 am, Monday morning. The momentary lull in the reality check was a request I received from a new employee in another department. Upon meeting this man, I was floored by his striking good looks. He reminded me of this famous 50’s icon. Yes, THAT good of looks.
Halfway into our conversation, I could feel the blood pumping in my face. My cheeks were throbbing as we talked about where we went to college, what sports we liked, how long we had been in Colorado, where we were born. It was delightful. Then he dropped the “W” word.
“My wife and I actually …..”
*Sigh* The rest of the conversation was WAH WAH WAH to me. I just nodded and stared at his chiseled face, sparkling white teeth and killer smile, wondering if he had paired up with someone as equally beautiful.
Maybe people this good-looking are naturally friendly. Maybe they know the reaction they are going to get from their audience and revel in the captivity? Maybe they pick out the desperately lonely, begging for attention sects of humanity and give them momentary hope, just for fun.
Later that night, I was sweating my way through the Nuggets game, and I got a phone call from an old friend who is in town for a week. in High School he had been consistent in asserting his romantic interest in the entirety of the female body, asking myself and most of my friends out on dates. Unfortunately, none of us responded the way he hoped. Now, 10 years later, he was calling again, asking me out on a date.
Really? After 10 years? After I had said no many times before? Do I really have to say “Look, I’m not interested in you! STOP ASKING!” I also jumped to the bitter conclusion that he thought that now I’m a desperate single mom, maybe he had a chance, since I was damaged goods. After declining the date and hanging up, I went to my computer and miserably logged into eHarmony.
I’ve weeded through over 100 matches, and 3 have gotten to the last “communication” stage where you actually start emailing each other. Their ages? 37, 35 and 26.
Maybe I’m Ageist, but I can’t picture dating someone 10 years older than me. We are of different generations. We wouldn’t get the same jokes. We wouldn’t be able to share the experience of wearing candy necklaces in high school, or watching the stupid N*SYNC music videos. He would like Dave Mathews and Rush. I would like Aaliyah and Dido. He would think I was immature. He would have 10 years more life experience than me. I would feel stupid around him.
Maybe I’m shallow, but those things mean something to me. Or maybe I’m just crazy.
On the FWB front, HS Sweetheart read my blog and texted me to ask if my girl parts were ok. I told him I was going back to the doctor, but I was giving my body a break while I tried to figure out what kind of relationship was best for me. He, being the awesome human being he is, told me he understood and good luck on my search.
Texting Chivman has become like clockwork. He’s constantly there, sending me updates on his life. I text him the score of the basketball games when he’s not by a TV, we ask how our days are going, how the holidays went. When LB says something hilarious and there’s no one around to share it, I text Chivman and he laughs digitally.
I have a relationship with my phone. I’m turned on by text messages. I’m attracted to Chivman even though I never see him. I know the feeling is mutual, but so is the understanding that we can’t be together. We have our own separate lives. We are very close friends, and I like that, even when our situation is making me ridiculously frustrated.
The rule of attraction is such a bitch.