He was at least the last "boyfriend" to leave me and I knew that it definitely was not me, but him.
See Philip was a particular kind of boyfriend, and it might say wonders that I couldn't keep him around either.
When I taught dance I had a Saturday morning class with a very precocious four-year-old that had a fondness for bringing imaginary friends to class and Philip was one of them. So, at the end of the half hour as we changed shoes and I distributed stamps for good behavior, she asked me if I would like Philip to be my boyfriend, she was done with him. I wasn't above four-year-old leftovers, so I said "yes, I would love that." And so with the instruction that I could only see Philip on dance days and not ever speak to him except via her, I was convinced that this was finally a relationship that I could make work.
Fast forward few blissful weeks and our class paraded through the studio to watch the "big (read high school young women) girls," dance. After we performed our recital dance in front of them we took seats on the floor along the mirrored wall and my favorite four-year-old took a seat on my lap to enjoy the show. Since I wasn't allowed to speak to him, I asked her how my boyfriend Philip was doing and with every bit of seriousness on her face she looked at me and said "Not good, he's gone up to the sky." One of the teens ready to dance in front of us heard the comment and giggled and she then turned to them and admonished "IT is NOT funny when people go up to the sky." She was right, it's not funny when people "go to the sky," nor was it funny that my best relationship ever would end this way.
At this point I'm not sure that I'll ever do better than my few weeks with Philip.
My entire dating life has always pretty much been a disaster of one type or another. For long periods of time in my life it was pretty much non-existent - I made no effort and no one went out of their way to try to convince me to date them either. Then, in 2006, in the midst of a major life overhaul I was undertaking I started my string of new dating disasters including somewhere in the middle of them Philip.
There was a guy that asked to be my date for a wedding that then stood me up when the day arrived, begged my forgiveness and said he'd make it up to me - he never did. There was one that told me that if I wanted to be successful in dating I "needed to learn my place on the ladder of attractiveness and not aim so high," (meaning for someone like him). There was one that turned out to be married in the end even though after being caught he still tried to convince me that I had misunderstood. Another that didn't know that with a little ingenuity and the power of google a former reporter could find your felony charge and prison sentence that you didn't just omit, but chose to lie about when you were telling your "life story." There were your typical men - the ones that clearly only had one interest in mind. And the not so typical men - the ones that seemed to want to string me along just to have someone to talk with for hours on end because they were lonely, but not upfront about it.
My personal parade of losers for a while was small, but they did provide great fodder.
Then I moved this past year and for some reason - whether it be that I was making a greater effort in a new town or my commodity was much "hotter" a few hours south of where I previously lived - I started going on lots of dates. And all I've really done is add more "great" stories to the pile of previous ones to the point where I feel like I could write one of those one-woman off-broadway shows on the topic.
Just a few of the highlights:
- My first date here was a guy that I'd talked to for about a month before I moved. Somehow in all our conversations he never thought to tell me that since he was from England and always planned to eventually move back (he's been here for almost seven years at present count) that he wasn't interested in anything very serious. He just wanted someone to date for the next few years that he would break-up with once he was ready to return home. I could have used that knowledge a little earlier than date two.
- Another guy thought he was ready to date after separating this summer from his wife. He said that they hadn't really been married for about two years before the split when they had started sleeping in different bedrooms and she had started "dating" other men. Which would have been fine, except the story didn't stop there. I listened to the whole story - the men, the phone calls from the men, her suicide attempt, her diagnosis with bipolar, all the things that he did for her and on and on and ... And that was fine, even though he shouldn't have "let it all out," I'm someone that understands a person's need to share their struggles and his was fresh, but then on our date I heard it all over AGAIN. He asked me countless times "how could she have said that?" or "Why would someone do this?" or "I know I didn't do everything right, but ..." It would have been enough if it ended there, but then he asked if I'd go out on the patio with him because since all the "shit with her" he'd started smoking again. So, since I'd be closer to my car, I went along. We talked, he finished his cigarette and he moved in, grabbed my face romantic comedy- I have to have you right now- style and kissed me - really? I've often wondered what turned him on - my listening to it all or that I was a good smoker's buddy?
- There was another guy that I can't say too much about because he was fabulous - right up until the part where he told me that he didn't want to see anyone else and then two days later texted me an hour before our next date to tell me that he told a friend about meeting "the perfect girl" and she told him that she had always wanted to date him - he was going to give that a try. Guess I was only perfect in the event that she was not available.
- There was the guy that took me up on my offer to pay when I reached for my purse at the end of the date. And even though I know as a feminist that I shouldn't expect a guy to pay, and that despite no one ever allowing me, I always offer; well all my male friends have told me it was bad form.
I could go on and on - some are better stories than others.
Some were just boring, some couldn't tear their eyes away from the football game on in the restaurant, some couldn't tear their attention away from first their phone and then from the waitress that was serving us and then couldn't understand why I wasn't interested in having him back to my place for a drink, one made the mistake of telling me a not-so-flattering political opinion, but every one of them was just one more bad date.
And to this I say - ENOUGH ALREADY!
Don't get me wrong, I don't NEED a man to complete me, I'm a fine person all on my own. I've learned to weed out a lot of the crazy and still I'm left with these stories - if I wanted to I could have been on far more bad dates. The guys that didn't make it past the first cut, well you can just imagine what good stories I would have then.
I've had the conversation during the years with many a girlfriend - and all have told me that it's clearly not me - just as all good women are supposed to do. So, during this past year two very good male friends have had quite an earful about my dating exploits - and they keep telling me that it's not me, that any guy would be lucky to have me and that they think I'm wonderful. Well, of course they do - they wouldn't be my friends if they didn't, but I was hoping that the male mind would have more insight into what I was clearly doing wrong, but it didn't.
Recently I had a conversation with someone that I barely knew and I thought I'd broach the subject - he asked how many dates I'd been on in the last year - after way too much thinking and adding I ballparked a low number of 12 (which wasn't accurate when I counted later, it was actually higher) and he said in no uncertain terms "It's clearly you." Finally, someone telling me what I knew all along, because we all know the "it's not you, it's me speech" is really all about you and never about the me. But the problem, I still don't know what the "it" is.
The one thing I know - I don't need any more bad or "funny" dating stories - I have more in my collection if anyone wants to challenge me. I swear that this is only a sampling. I didn't even go into any of the ones that were just of the modest, there was no spark variety.
To paraphrase Charlotte on an episode of Sex in the City, I've been dating for years now - "where is he already, I'm exhausted?"
If anyone knows they can feel free to give me directions. Until then, I'll be over here trying to decipher the "It's not you, it's me" puzzle and hoping that another perfect man like my Philip comes along soon.
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