In the Name of "Duh..."

You rhapsodize about beauty
and my eyes glaze
everything that i love is ugly
I mean really, you would be amazed
just do me a favor
it's the least that you can do
just don't treat me like I am
something that happened to you


So I’m listening to this Ani Difranco song – bitter in that beautifully painful way that she’s bitter – wondering if she’s just melodramatic or if I’ve just never really been in love.

I’ve tried not to make this blog about my dating life, but it’s definitely an issue in my life as it is and it’s definitely something that I think about. By American standards, I’m not all that old and nowhere near an old maid, but by Calhoun standards, I might as well be dead. I get really annoyed when I go to a shower or a wedding and all my relatives are looking at me like, “Well? What’s your problem?” I’d be surprised if one or two of them didn’t think I’m a lesbian. I’m just not one to settle. I refuse to marry just for the sake of getting married. I absolutely refuse. I’ve broken up with many a man who was wonderful and seemingly perfect in every way by “marrying” standards. Many ladies around me (including my office manager) look at me like I’m insane and proceed to name off potential sweethearts based solely on the fact that they are single. I think about explaining to them that I don’t want to marry just anybody, but in the end, I realize that it’s pointless because I’m not going to make them understand. I will only marry a man I love. I mean really love. Somebody who I can dance to “Bewitched” by Ella Fitzgerald with without feeling too self-conscious or shy. Somebody with whom I can be the girl I am in my head (and my heart). Damn it.

Which brings me back to the first issue. I really don’t think I’ve ever been in love with anyone. When I think about past beaus, I feel no real ache at their absence, nor did I ever. The closest I come to an ache is when I think about a man I dated about five years ago who was wrong for me in every single way. He was eleven years older, only in the area for the summer, and averse to being in one place for too long. But we got along beautifully. Had wonderful conversations (among other things), and we were utterly comfortable with each other. While it lasted, it was the best relationship I probably ever had. I miss him and think about him ALL THE TIME. But I never get this burning feeling of need and loss when I think of him (well aside from the very occasional moment when I’m really reminded of him by something or when I’m lonely and given too much time to think). I usually just kind of sigh and think, “Well, shit.”

I suppose when I say I’ve never been in love, I mean that I’ve never really gotten far enough inside a man to really know him and be dazzled or pleased with everything I saw there. And God knows none of them have ever really tried very hard to get too far into my heart and head. I imagine it would be a scary place to a newcomer.

And then I wonder if my idea of love is wrong. Which I think everyone’s is until they really feel it. And I think of my friends who have been married and divorced and still suffer for the loss. But do they suffer for the loss of the person, the stability, or the habit of being married? It must be different for every case, of course, but I’m sure that in some cases, it may be all three.

The only conclusion I can come to now is that loving somebody is the ability to be the person you are in your head with them and knowing that they have the same ability with you. So I’ve never been in love. Because I’ve never really been able to be the girl I am in my head with any of my exes – except that one man I mentioned. But he couldn’t be the man he was in his head with me. So I reckon it’s all for the better.

I’ll just keep my eyes and my mind open and maybe I’ll get lucky one of these days. And you can double entendre that as much as you want.

Now more bitterness from Ani Difranco.
This is a great song from her Dilate album.
"Napoleon"