I was maid of honor in a wedding a couple weeks ago, and near the end of the evening, I broke down crying.
Was I getting choked up over the my friend getting married? Nope. Was I drunk? Potentially. OK, yes.
The drinking didn't help, but what I was really feeling was sorry for myself. I'd made some feeble attempts to flirt with a groomsman, and then I also attempted to dance with another. Both of them ditched me in favor of flirting with another bridesmaid, one who has a boyfriend (and a better rack than me, admittedly, although that's not very difficult to accomplish).
Surprisingly, this stirred up some old feelings I hadn't felt in awhile. For 2 years, I dated someone who made me feel completely loved. I never questioned his affection for me, and I grew used to that comfort of always feeling wanted by someone.
So it's been since before I met the ex that I experienced several rounds of rejection from a variety of fellows. It hurt me a lot back then - I remember shedding a couple tears after a guy wasn't into me after one date (one date!). I took it hard, and I took it personal every single time. All of those single years of getting rejected by one after another, hopes running high and then swept out from under me. Sure, I rejected my share as well. But there was nothing quite like the desperation of my early 20s. And that wedding night a couple weeks back made me think of every single tool out there whom I couldn't charm.
Stereotypical drunk bridesmaid-never-a-bride crying aside, I think I'm somewhat getting the hang of this rejection deal. Rejection isn't even the right word. It's more like re-direction - just moving with the ebbs and flows of meeting people, and changing my focus once one doesn't reciprocate.
Granted, I'm not all that happy about this "re-direction" business every time. It's really getting old at this point. Like recently - I went on a couple dates with a potential, and he really impressed me. We had great conversation and chemistry, and things seemed to be heading in a mutual direction.
Then radio silence.
The fool hasn't talked to me since! It did bum me out at first, and sure it stings a little today when I start to get in those feeling-sorry-for-myself moods. But it sure hasn't made me cry like that loser that dropped me after one date (if I recall, he cancelled our plans on a Saturday and said he'd be "busy with work" for awhile. And by awhile, he meant forever). It's more perplexing as to why someone shows interest up front, and then pulls a disappearing act. And for the record, no there was no "getting the milk for free" scenario here. I know better than that.
Before I met my ex, I was such a happy-go-lucky, independent girl. I loved my alone time, and I thrived knowing I was a free bird. I know I'll get back to that, but for now, I'm still re-building that single self. It's not as difficult to be alone as it used to be. It's boring, sure, but I know how to occupy my time. And thankfully work is keeping me plenty busy.
Regardless of it all, I'm still as hopeful as ever. I guess it's that quasi-pessimistic optimist in me that thinks there's a disappointment quota we all have to meet, and I'm slowly reaching mine. The balance of the universe is sure to come my way after all of this nonsense. Right?