If you thought I was done talking about types you’re wrong: I’m not. I’ve been reading your comments and your questions (even the uncomfortable ones that make me squirm) and in honor of My Single Male Friend Friday, I have compiled the following:
Part 1: A Brief Recap of Your Comments and Questions Pertaining to my (M)anthropology
Q: If all men are ‘types,’ how can you make this work for you?
A; Hmmm… well I guess I need to figure out which “type” I’m supposed to be with and steer clear of the rest?
Q: Maybe you should ask yourself which qualities/habits/ticks can you live with?
A: Maybe I should. But I have no idea. I mean, I wouldn’t be asking for perfection if I myself wasn’t, you know…
Q: Which qualities are “moldable?”
A: This is easy: bad taste in clothing, dislike of Indian food and the inability to use chopsticks properly. I can definitely train a man to use chopsticks, and I’ve introduced many a former boyfriend to the brilliance of the boxer brief. I’m not afraid to do so again.
Q: How can you each help the other learn to appreciate or embrace the each other’s likes/dislikes?
A: Ugh. You mean I’ve got to grow? And help someone else grow? Compromise isn’t really my thing (which is probably why I’m still single).
Part II: A Revelation
I should confess that I’ve been corresponding with an equally high-spirited friend of mine on the subject of relationships and romantic entanglements for the past thirteen years (so yeah, just in case you were wondering, I’ve always been this way). Two teenaged Darcy-fans can get into quite a lot of trouble in thirteen years, especially when they continue obsessing over their relationships as adults.
(You think my blog is bad? You should see our emails.)
We’ve come up with a lot of dumb ideas over the years and although the majority of these are entirely too embarrassing and nonsensical to post on the internet, the most recent has proven surprisingly relevant to today’s post.
A year ago, we both decided to swear off boring-but-nice men. We wanted to have love affairs, and torrid ones at that. Lukewarm feelings were deemed “not torrid enough” and boring-but-nice guys were cast aside.
Then, the inevitable happened: we both found ourselves getting tired of torrid. The not-boring got boring and she’s now happily dating a very nice man she’s been friends with for years.
Where does this leave me? Happy for her and hopeful for myself— if a bit disappointed. (I like drama!) My 50th Date has asked me to join him for a trip to Valley Forge this weekend and although I’m not sure I’ll manage to find the time between all of the dance recitals, I’m already skeptical. I never get very far with “nice” guys.
Part of the reason for this, I suspect, is that I don’t give nice guys much credit. I jump to conclusions and with every single last one of them, my initial reaction has been one of disappointment. No spark. No chemistry, and I’m never intrigued enough to give that spark the chance to develop.
But that’s only half of the picture. The other half is this: I’m afraid. My last few break ups have gone rather badly (although it now strikes me that a bad break up is about as unique as a bad car accident). Whereas the Impressionists simply slink off into the night, the others (especially the Pre-Raphaelites) always make a scene. And I hate scenes.
I also hate knowing that I might end up hurting someone, simply by virtue of breaking up with them.
I’d rather keep right on dating Impressionists (they’ll get over it), Surrealists (they’ll definitely get over it) or Pre-Raphaelites (they’ll swear they’ll never get over it but they will) than risk hurting a boring-but-nice guy while I wait around to see what lies beneath his seemingly lackluster facade. Why? Well, because feelings might get involved in the interim. Someone might get hurt.
(How f*ckd up is that?)
I’ve gotta say I didn’t see this particular freight train of an epiphany coming. So help me out here: can sparks develop over time? Should I give up on the idea of a passionate affair and settle for something a bit more, you know: normal? Or should I give the “normal” the chance to transform into something passionate?