Monday, August 19, 2013


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?

No comments:

Post a Comment