I have to imagine that everyone, at one point in his or her life, wishes that the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind were a legitimate option in their post break-up routine. Having the option of someone physically removing the intimate feelings of being with a lover would make the desperate ache of now not having that so much easier to cope with. Or, in my case, the mental image of what they look like naked. Saying that my dating history is aberrant is an outrageous understatement and if I could just get a do-over I would be eternally grateful.
Firstly, I have never dated someone that I actually like. Before, during or after, my now ex-girlfriends are people who make me want to climb back into whatever sad sack, watching movies alone on a Friday night bliss that I had been embarking on for the last ever. But nonetheless, out of some sort of self-fulfilling masochism, I continue to go through the motions of pursuing said underwhelming suitor. And as luck would have it, seems I have a soft spot for arrogance and sunglasses at night. Shockingly enough, and as much as I don’t buy into love at first leer, they always meet me half way and we end up in a what-is-the-point-of-this romance.
As the relationship meanders down the expected path of failure, I tend to relinquish any control over my own interests and instead, force myself to bask in the glory of their hobbies, whether it be M Night Shyamalan movies (lame), discussing the finer parts of disemboweling a pig as pillow talk (real), or listening to gangsta rap while having sex (not as bad as it sounds). At this point, the relationship is at its prime. When you decide that spending time rewatching JLo’s entire catalog is better together than apart, that is true love. I mean, right? The sex isn’t awful either, or more, having sex is better than not having sex, and there’s always more wine. You’re still in the throes of newness, so the expectation of something more is still fueling your fire.
Only, spoiler alert, there isn’t something more. In fact, since neither of you are actually invested in one another, arguing becomes a rather comforting past time and the decision to keep from updating your Facebook relationships status in case something better comes along just feels right.
It’s also at this point where I start to ask myself, where is that amazing girl I was a few months ago who had her head on straight, who deftly navigated wit and humor and felt challenged to become a better person. Don’t worry, she’s still there, only she’s too busy scrambling to make a relationship work, one in which is based on nothing more than animal instinct to not be alone.
How does it end? It doesn’t, instead of end it actually just dies a horrible death that includes cheating, blaming, and trying to out OkCupid one another. Think of the word fizzling with explosives.
Some people are not always cut out for dating, and by some people I mean me. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with being alone and feeling comfortable enough in doing so. Obviously Dionne Warwick knows what’s up, because not only was she the keynote speaker at my college graduation, she also told me that that’s what friends are for. I’m always amazed at how quickly I rebound after a relationship in regards to my self-worth. I even feel wildly more attractive and interesting, and ready to take on the world. That is until I go out, and spot another pair of sweepy bangs and low slung jeans staring at me across the bar. Then, what can I say, I’m a girl who thrives off of repetitive patterns.