Disappointments

Eventually, the charm wears off. What I’m wondering is if it is actually possible to meet a guy who doesn’t, in the simplest, most basic ways, disappoint?

I’ve just turned 28. That’s 12 years of dating. And 12 years of disappointment – obviously with a few exceptions. I’m always surprised at each new heart break that I managed somehow to dig down and find the optimism to continue the search for love. And right now? I’m fucking tired. How deep does this well of optimism and hope run? When does the well run dry?

Obviously there are the break ups that aren’t really break ups because we weren’t really officially anything to each other. Although we have fun and there is some connection between us, we both know it’s not forever and so I’m not particularly concerned about how and when it ends. That said there is still a level of respect deserved, even within these casual liaisons.

And yet, I’m collating quite a list of incredibly bad behaviour I’ve experienced at the hands of men. Most recent case in point: happily cosy on his couch, when his ex announces she’s coming over. I’ve consulted several people on this and the 100% of those surveyed said it would not be out of line to suggest that the respectful, reasonable solution would involve him telling her, ever so politely, to fuck off. Instead of asking me to leave. Which, clearly put in my place, I did. He won’t have to ask me to leave again*.

If there is a silver lining to the array of bullshit I’ve experienced, it’s that despite a lack of respect some men have for me, I am learning to respect myself enough to say ‘you know what? That’s just fucked. And I don’t deserve to be treated like that’. It’s not much, but it’s something.

Unfortunately there are also the times when your heart gets involved and, let’s face it, the odds of this ending well aren’t high. And there is, sometimes, no one to blame when these things fall apart. There is a delicate balance of time and place and connection and desire for the same things. And, for me, it’s about meeting someone who I can commit to happily, to put away the rucksack (not entirely, obviously) and settle down with.

And somehow, even now when I feel like an old woman I’m so tired of dating, I still have hope.

* Unless he realises he has been a fuckwit and does something disgustingly romantic to make it up to me. In which case, I might take a few weeks to consider this possibility. Maybe.