The 'almosts.'

I'm relatively green on the dating front. For doing most things so naturally and going with the flow the majority of the time, I make anything and everything involving feelings, men and physical contact completely awkward. And impossible.

I'm not sure if it's my approach, or the whole 'you reap what you sew,' kind of karma thing -- but I kind of always figured I'd rather not over think why and just trust that one day, out of the 7,000,000+ people on the earth, there will be at least one man who not only understands it and knows how to work with it, but finds it just the slightest bit endearing.

Until I find that man, I have some really great moments to hold near-and-dear to my chest. These thoughts don't pop up often, but on the rare occasion they do, I'm flooded with fondness and hope.

This particular moment came to mind while I was lying in shivassinah this evening at yoga, listening to  Nude by Radiohead. It made me think of this guy that used to be in one of the rehearsal spaces I managed at my first job. He was the singer of the band in studio #11 that almost never paid their rent on time. Instead - I often received rent envelopes with a portion of the cash due and note like this:

And I would giggle, and give them a break because they were charming and musicians and... boys. Although I was young at 22, they were younger at 16-20. They'd invite me into their space to hear them rehearse, play their guitars, sing, talk about everything and nothing - and they made me feel included.

Now hanging with the boys is common for me. And I like that, because good girlfriends are really hard to find (though, I've found the best ones) - and guys are just... easier. But it's because of this mentality that I've always singled myself out as the 'non-datable' girl in any group - because being 'one-of-the-guys' automatically makes you feel not-desired at all.

I've always felt like I was  branded as the one who men never choose - even though It's my own fault that happened - and you can bet I'll still bitch about it five minutes after I feel the slightest bit rejected. You can literally see me move from apathy to desperation in 60 seconds flat. I'm absolutely positive this is why I don't date, because after so many years of this conditioning, I will always automatically put myself in this position out of comfort. And it's because of this that I am always surprised when a man shows any interest in me outside of the role of a friend.

And this guy did - out of the blue, on Christmas Day a few years after we met.

"I love you."
"... what?"
"I love you."
"...just like that? Where did this come from?"
"I've always loved you."
"O.k...... Uh... Merry Christmas."

I honestly didn't know what to do with that. So I didn't do anything - because it didn't make sense to me. But  I did what came naturally: kept it friendly - and so we stayed friends.

In 2010, I went on a pub crawl for Halloween and by night's end at 2:30am, I decided out of anyone I could call - I would call him:

"I'm hungry. Let's go get breakfast."
"I'm not leaving the house, but I will make you breakfast."
"Awesome."

And I arrived at his house not 10 minutes later. I hadn't seen him in months and months, but I recognized him instantly, as he waited outside on his porch for me - not with toast, or cereal, or oatmeal, but a full CHEESE Plate (we're talking a variety of cheese), with grapes, and berries and a freshly toasted bagel with cream cheese, coffee and orange juice. And I smirked because it's too funny and wonderful all at once, and I'd never had expected that in a million years.

And it doesn't matter how this story ends (I'm sure not how you think), because that's not the point. This is a good moment. This is why movies are made. This is why stories by Nicholas Sparks exist. Because they are real. And I have a few handfuls of moments like this (some that I will never share with anyone because they mean that much).  But this is why you laugh and revel in the stories of 'almost' like this. Because I'm convinced that things like this mean more than bragging about holding down x amount of long-term relationships in your 20s, 30s, however old. I am alone a lot, but I have been lucky enough to experience these things.  And I just wanted to remind myself - and you - that's it's okay...

it's okay.

(side note: can i get a hell yeah for finally focusing on the positive? it's been so LONG!)

No hullabalu - it's true.

Where do I start? Because this is all going to make me sound like sad son-of-a-bitch - which is... 63% true. So here we go... 

I've been thinking a lot lately how applicable pop culture is to one's life when you turn 30. People always tell you things change, and cringe when you mention you've moved into the next decade - and I thought it was all hullaballu, but only two months in,  I'm starting to think there's something to it.  

I don't think I really understood this until now: So many movies have been delivered to us about some miserable sad sack that is only partially good-looking, stuck in an alright job, living a mediocre life, going home to an empty apartment at night, going to bed alone, and waking up to do it all over again. Over and over again. There may be someone he used to love that has long disappeared, but who he thinks about every day.  There may be some past tragedy that has prevented him from living the life he always truly sought as a child. Whatever it is - now he lives for the weekend, he dreads Monday - he has lost all motivation to be the best version of himself because -- what's the point?

And then what always happens? Some amazing happenstance steps in and his life magically gets better. He somehow manages to say a not-so-fond farewell to his prick boss, find or reconnect with love and somehow end up looking really freaking cool. and happy - until the sequel (sidenote: i'm also thinking there are about 17 sequels in each of our lives).

This of course is the obvious, up-front version. In the not-so-obvious one, most of us look pretty happy most of the time (because we are trying so hard to be), attempting to date and find love (because it's what is expected and reiterated as a basic human need and desire), focus on things that are important (family, happiness, pride in one's self, confidence, followthrough, growth, reputation), work hard (even when we're having panic attacks and frozen in fear of not knowing what the heck we're doing - even though we don't know what we really should be doing) and seem to have it together (i.e. have found something in their life to control to appear organized, like exercise, food, color-coded closets, etc.). In reality? We don't. None of us do. And despite this, we all maintain that there is something greater out there for all of us.

And now with the aforementioned plot line, here comes the 63%: I haven't been this damn depressed and lonely for this long of a time well... ever. I feel like I am stuck in a torturous romantic comedy, but instead of two hours, it's 10 years and the protagonist, yours truly, wants OUT of the god damn movie. 

What really gets me, and just like all of those movies confirm, feeling like this seems to be 'the norm' for those of us with half-a-brain and even the tiniest grasp on the world. Then you talk to your friends, and they say they feel the same. You have a beer, laugh about your misery and conclude, "Well, it could be worse."

And yes, I suppose it could. But why should that ever be the silver lining? How is it that that is the thing that gets us to the next day?  I can't ever remember thinking, 'thank you for that quality burst of confidence! Pour another gallon of water in the pool of depression that I have barely been treading through over the last four months. I magically have WATER WINGS!' 

This breaks my heart. I want to believe in something again. I want to know that my amazing happenstance is finally going to step in and light my life on fire again. I'm genuinely convinced that it won't be anything that I go out and find, because I have been whoring myself out over any possible thing that could introduce itself as my glowing solution. But I continually come up empty. I used to think the retort to, 'i'm trying!' was 'try harder.' But, not anymore.  Whatever the hell this happenstance, it's going to have to fall into my lap; trip me; hit me on the head - something. It needs to grow a big pair of balls and make a damn appearance, already.

I surrender and I summon you to me. Game on - whatever/whoever you are - Get on it.