he rejects me, he rejects me not..

There once was a time in which I was much more optimistic about relationships, love, and everything in that whole cornucopia of interactions with other members of the human race. That was, of course, until I entered the fray for myself and discovered that actually finding someone at least mostly human is an exhausting enough task all on its own. That’s not even touching on what happens after you’ve found one.

Ultimately, we are all perfectionists in our own right when it comes to love. We all have that ideal that we strive for in another, and then determine how people we meet measure up to that ideal. That bullseye is ever elusive, yet we all yearn for it anyway, and accept somebody who is ‘close enough’.

After all, in all likelihood, we will never meet that exact match for us, and even still, rarely is it considered that if you DO have a horseshoe up your ass and meet your Mr. Right, who is to say that you are his? Which, of course, would be the most torturous of all. You’d get the same sentiments out of dangling a filet mignon in front of a muzzled pitbull.

People have different sets of expectations and desires when they first enter into a relationship. It is impractical to believe that everybody wants the same amount of personal contact, intimacy, phone calls, instant-messaging, or progress, and the trickiest part is trying to juggle your personal needs with his, without making it known that you’re on differing pages. Nothing causes the alarms to sound more than even the slightest hint that you’re moving too fast, be it emotionally, or physically. So, you play it by ear, and choose your battles wisely and carefully.

For me, the biggest challenge in dating and relationships, is coping with the realization that the other has lost interest in you, just when you’re starting to ease off on the brakes and let yourself get into it. In my experience, I think I’d actually prefer to get rejected up front. Right off the bat, just rip the band-aid off and I’ll survive easily. At least then, you don’t know me, I’m still a stranger, and your judgment of me is likely based on my physical appearance or on our very light and insignificant banter. Again, I’m fine with that. But, it stings a little deeper when someone waits until they get to know you a bit better before they vote you off the island. I’m all about the superficial rejection, but this other kind is as pleasant as a root canal. Bruising and all.

It will never cease to amaze me how quickly some men can go from borderline infatuation, to complete and utter disinterest, seemingly overnight. One day, you’re getting a hundred texts and invitations to sleep over, hugs and kisses and cuddles and laughter, and then the next day, you initiate conversation and get one words answers, closed sentences, single ha’s and definitely no cuddles. What the fuck? Why does this happen? I think that my experiences in the dating world have taught me an awful lot about men, and I pride myself in having learned many of the most commonly asked questions about gay relationships, but this one is the ace in the hole that gay men everywhere have on me.

I mean, yes. In some cases, you can understand the sudden change of heart. For example, if one night you fall asleep with a guy  you’re all about, and then the next day, you wake up and everything in your house has been stolen, okay, do a 180. Or, if you show up at your boy’s apartment and are passed in the stairs by the guy he just finished fucking, perhaps some reconsideration is merited. But, in most circumstances, nothing at all changes. There is no earth-shattering event of major paradigm shift of the proceedings, and yet, poof – gay man gone. Glitter everywhere.

On occasion, I believe this to be happening, and in the end, it is revealed to be little more than my acute paranoia and skepticism I’ve acquired over time. Despite my prior experiences, I still have a rather surprising habit of being quite trusting, and of forming the beginnings of attachment perhaps a little faster than I would like. I panic that my neuroses will scare away everything with a penis in the long-run, and start to envision the rest of my life panning out alone and old and impotent and dead. It’s a horrible gauntlet of a process, I know. But ultimately, I’m waiting for that one guy who will come along and laugh at my insanity, tell me that it’s all okay, and take me off to bed to cuddle me to sleep without me having to explain myself.

I think that’s all anyone really wants, or craves. That feeling, of being wanted. No doubts or questions surrounding it, just clear, concise, and definite attraction. There is nothing more reassuring, not even your oldest and most favourite sweater can rival its comfort. I yearn every day to feel that I am desired by another living, breathing, emotionally competent at-least-half-human being. I had a taste of it once. Not quite, but a tickling of it on my tongue. I miss it gravely.

The theft, glitter, and doubt I can do without. Look past my crazy, make me smile, make me feel cute, and be good at spooning, and I’ll happily grow old (but not impotent) with you any day.

~ by glamnesia on August 3, 2009.