I love Baseball. Okay, I love Yankee Baseball. (pause of shouts of disagreement) I love Football. Okay, Packer Football. (another pause for disagreement. I used to love Basketball but whateves.
But in all seriousness over the years, I’ve adopted a sports approach to friendship and dating. If you disrespect, hurt or defile my person enough you are in fact out. Three strikes. Done. Like most sports in life there is gaining of yardage, silly errors, rounding the bases only to be nailed on third, first downs that get you to the goal line and no touchdown. It’s all there every metaphor and analogy, dating is like sports. Trust me. It is. Dating is not a game. But dating should have rules and each of us is our own referee or umpire. We are responsible for keeping all those participating in check. Including ourselves. Right? Damn straightness.
And so begins the tale of the Man who Wasn’t There…
My friends are amazing people in their own individual awesomeness. And each of them is like a crayon or a snowflake…only my friends don’t melt. Or they do but that’s a whole other blog posts. When I see them in anguish or in need, I’m one of those people who jumps to help. It’s how I roll. Recently and for the last four months a friend has been dealing with a predicament and it’s starting to hurt my head.
This brings me back to my theory of me not being That Girl. You know the one who is desperately looking for Prince Charming and the castle and shit. Just not for me. But, so many of my single friends are still holding their breath for that Happy Ending. And I support them if that’s the life they choose. What I can’t support and get behind is when a friend allows this search to consume who he/she is and allow themselves to be mistreated.
Four months ago, my friend met a couple of dudes on POF. She choose the one who seemed more Jockish and more her desired body type. They went on two dates and had a blast. By date three he invited her over. She declined and asked to meet somewhere after work. Date three was great. They seemed to be entering into a comfort dating zone. And then it happened. He just wasn’t there. Vanished. Poof. Theories abound about what happened…he’s just not that into her…blah, blah, blah. Two weeks later after texting him he reappears with an excuse…his personal life is nuts and he might be unavailable to date for a bit, like two-three weeks. That’s right he gave her a timeline sorta on how long he was going to need space. Because she genuinely liked him she texted him for Turkey Day and they chatted. He admitted he was being stalked and was having to move out of his place to hopefully end the drama. In my head, there is a swirl of WTF’s running rampant. Communication continues. No actual seeing each other happens, but he mentions he misses her and wishes he could see her. Then more vanishing occurs. And here we are today. Two more vanishing acts and more chances to possibly hang out and nothing…last night he was supposed to be in touch to make plans if he couldn’t in fact have coffee with her last night. And guess what, that’s right…nada.!
For four months, my friend has let a guy volley in and out of her life. Round the bases to third and then turn around and head back to first just because. He’s gained yardage and just stood at the goal line and instead of throwing a flag on the play she’s just holding her breath hoping he’ll come around. And while I am an ubber supportive friend I can’t help but be pissed off by this kind of stuff. What pisses me off about this, you ask? Well for starters disrespecting people is bad Juju but when we allow it to happen then it is off the charts bad news in my book.
I’m totes a fan of taking it slow and seeing where something might go these days, but holding one’s breath for someone to grow up and grow out of behavior that is sad and hurtful is never a good play. The only person who gets hurt is the one who runs out of oxygen. Right? It is one thing to be that girl. Looking for love and romance and fairy tales but it is a whole other thing to sacrifice oneself for any kind of love. To slowly strip away one’s hopes and desires, in the hopes that a person will see you for what you are is just a lie. If you trim away the best parts of what makes you, well who you are then they aren’t loving you at all. But a version that is censored for them, just to be with them. Call my crazy (which I’m sure you do every day) but I call bullshit on that one. Love me. Not some gross spectacle created by me to gain your love. But the surest way to accomplish honest to goodness love is to always defend your own honor.
Ladies and gentlemen life and love are like sports. Okay maybe it is cause I was raised with it and I would’ve played football if I was so damn tiny, but it’s truth I write. Create your own rules for what you want in your life. What you will and won’t allow. Decide your own boundaries and settle for nothing less than happiness. Being alone does suck. But being with someone and not being yourself sucks even worse.
So if a Man just isn’t There keep moving on down the field until you get tackled by the real deal…
Can I get an Hell Yes?!?!
..and maybe a Go Pack Go while you’re at it?
Thoughts? (not on the Packers…unless you’re The Denny)