I declared about a month ago: "It's the most unusual thing, but for some reason, and for probably for the first time in my life, I sincerely do not want a boyfriend."
I'm sure I've stated that on a number of occasions and claimed even the same degree of sincerity; but it was most likely when I'd recently faced open rejection and wanted to seem independent/indifferent (in which case it would've completely disproven what I was going for.)
The unusual thing is that for the first time in my life it was sincere and I couldn't figure out why.
If you've known me at all, you've known that I can be completely boy-obsessed/crazed/smitten/nauseatingly-excited. Whitney started making a special book of dating rules for me because she worries about how quickly I can fall for relationships where it's obvious to everyone else that they are they silliest/worst idea ever. (I want that, by the way, Whit.)
After my divorce I would honestly think sometimes: "Don't be bitter, don't be bitter, don't be bitter," in those moments when I felt it the most. But honestly, after 10 years of dating failure and rejection intermixed with divorce, how much unbitter persistence can one have?
All of that bitterness I've held back has transformed itself into a more subtle form of silent sabotage. Now when I am with someone I actually like, I probably spend 50-70% of my time with them doing/saying things that are likely to disprove our compatibility as a couple and push them away. Things like: spraying clorox all over my filthy bathroom 2 minutes before their arrival so that they have to wait while I clean it, talking only about graphic design and school and the internship I hope I get this summer, and saying things like,"I don't date boys with six packs", "I am the worst person to date ever", and "Do you think we have anything in common?"
The most ridiculous part is that I honestly don't get that I'm doing it until serious moments of introspection.
at 10:02 AM