Where’s the Axe?

I knew I was in trouble when I stopped crying and just accepted that he wasn’t coming home.  Again.  No calls, he would just disappear, usually around pay day.  The layers of shame fused together like the hairs of an armadillo, making a shell that I can roll myself up in for protection.  However it works both ways, shutting others out and keeping my pain and shame in.  I don’t even know how to unroll anymore, how to expose the soft underbelly that is there.  As brave as I am about accepting challenges it doesn’t extend to interpersonal relationships.  I am guarded.  My fears and pain rule my heart.  The door is locked and I’ve lost the key, so even if I wanted to give it to someone I don’t know where it is.  Hand me an axe to chop through it, will you?

Laura Experiences Dating in 2006

Here it is 2006 and I’m single again.  I was in an exclusive relationship for 11 years (four of which we were married) and the last year I have taken a time out to deal with my divorce both emotionally and legally.  My scooter club decided to host a Speed Dating event as a fund raiser.  With an open mind and full of false confidence I thought “OK maybe I can meet some nice single guys, what the heck.�  Last night was the night.

It seemed that 2 ½ hours between work and the event would be plenty of time to go home, get tarted up and drive over.  I found myself running out of the house, slightly panicked that I would be late.  It was a clear, beautiful night.  A part of me was hoping that there would be a reason not to show up.

Maybe there’ll be horrible traffic.

Maybe I won’t be able to stretch my arm out to give the $3.00 to the toll taker.

Maybe I won’t be able to find parking.

No such luck.  I had no excuse except that I felt ill from anxiety and wanted to chicken out.  I stuffed my fears and set out determined to make the best of it.  I was ready to meet 20 single guys in an hour.  Well as ready as I was ever going to be anyway.

The girls from the club were all set.  Checking people in, giving out gift packs, taking photos so that if there was a match you could remember who the heck the person was.  It was incredibly uncomfortable but I don’t think there was anyone who didn’t feel that way so it was an even playing field at least.  I’m not sure about the concept of speed dating on the whole.  Introductions from other friends always seemed to work before but since most of my friends are now couples, and most of their friends are now couples, the pool is pretty small.  Three minutes to decide if you want to see a person again doesn’t seem like enough time but as we got going sometimes it seemed it was too much time and yes, sometimes, not enough.  I can say that I spoke to some very nice and interesting gentlemen.

I do tend to think of myself as a fairly flirty person.  I’m actually painfully shy so I tend to overcompensate.  Here was my opportunity to get down and I was so freaked out that I had a hard time chatting these guys up.  So bad, in fact, that afterwards when I was invited to have some fries with one, I said “oh thanks but no�.  My friend, Pete, kicked me and told me to get my ass over there “He wants to get to know you!�.  So I gathered myself up and walked over.  I actually had chosen him to follow up with so why was I so hesitant?.  What’s wrong with me (slapping myself in the head) I wouldn’t know if a guy was interested in me if he stated it flat out!

11:00 pm rolled around pretty quickly and I said my goodbyes.  Jen told me I’d get the results in the morning by email.  I put five on my list and could only hope that I didn’t make such a complete ass of myself that maybe someone would think “Hey I’d like to get to know her�.

As if building up to last night and getting through it wasn’t daunting enough, today was pure hell waiting for the rejection to come.  I spent the morning trying to focus my thoughts on work and not compulsively check my other email account to look for the “matches�.  Not sure what scares me more actually, that no one would be interested (whew off the hook) or that I might get a date (oh god now what)?

Two out of five indicated interest in me, well I guess I did OK.  We’ll see.

Discarded

Discarded. Thrown in the corner of the closet. The fit, the smell, the feel is familiar and somehow comforting but not to be worn again. Why am I aching for the physical intimacy that was nothing more than a way to pass the time from the start? I didn’t want you to fall in love with me. But I liked being wanted.

Now you have a new suit and though you won’t say it, I can see in your eyes that you’re done with me. The loneliness never left even when I lay there in your arms but now it consumes me and I feel bitter. I don’t want to, but I do.

It will pass. This isn’t the first time a lover has turned me aside for another. You don’t even have to say that’s what is happening, I already know. It was bound to happen sooner or later. It hurts. I don’t want it to, but it does.

It gnaws at my insides. Why not me? I didn’t want you to fall in love with me, but why didn’t you? It’s not my heart that is hurt, it is my ego.  There is something wrong with me that I can be so easily replaced, so easily scorned, so thoughlessly discarded. Last season’s fashion, so out of style.