I’m sure there must be more people like me out there, somewhere. Surely at least a couple of them are male. Why do I keep meeting people who want me to be someone else, or expect me to fit some mould/ stereotype? I don’t want to. I like to do things my way, cause my way is good too. It’s not the only way, I’m not completely vain or blind to other options. But, I’m pretty clever in my own way. The odd way.
I am tired of trying to become what people want or expect me to. Or, maybe worse, accepting people (men) and making excuses and rationalizations for how it can work out, how I’m just thinking too much or trying to find someone who can’t really exist. As if I’M the one who is expecting too much. I try to wrap myself around their little finger. It’s damn time I took a coffee break on that.
Surely, there is a guy, who doesn’t live so far away as to require long distance relating, who could actually enjoy my company, as I am. The real me, dorky, nerdy, flawed, passionate, artsy, scared, stubborn, caring, unreasonable, impatient, eccentric, unorganized, sensual, quiet, independent, old fashioned, crafty and on and on. And on.
Why do I keep meeting odd guys who don’t care about the things that matter to me. Guys who seem to have more problems than I do, guys who want me to come to rescue them, guys who don’t care about good punctuation, guys who can’t carry a conversation above sex, guys who lie about things that don’t really matter, guys who think a woman’s body is all that matters. Guys who honestly, really and truly bore me. Why do I keep thinking that is all the choice I have? Why do I sell myself short?
I’m tired of it. But, I just can’t believe there really isn’t at least one guy out there who is abnormal in enough ways to mesh with all my abnormal. No normal, please, that would be boring. There must be an intelligent, interesting, passionate, optimistic guy out there. One who doesn’t need to put me down to make himself feel bigger or better. One who doesn’t mind some chaos and doesn’t think all the dishes have to be sorted by size and put away right away. One who likes to read and talk about ideas, the weather and other things of interest. Bedsport too but not as a focus, crowding out all else.
Anyway, here I am. Come and get me. I’ll leave a trail of typos, chocolate wrappers and spilled coffee. If you have/ know the words you’ll find the way.