I got invited to a wedding today. This is exciting. I love weddings. I haven’t been to one since my own and that’s already 3½ years ago. Having written about family yesterday, it got me thinking about relationships. So I invited myself to a trip down memory lane.
I started dating late, or whatever it was called in High School. My first serious crush was on a guy who was in a perpetual on again/off again relationship. I pined after him for months; then resorted to dating his twin brother. Kind of as a consolation prize, I guess. And they weren’t even identical. Talk about literally settling for second best. My next boyfriend broke up with me because he wanted to spend more time with his dog. This is fact, not fiction.
Over the years, I have been with a guy who turned out to be gay. I’ve been asked to shave my pubic hair on a second date. I got dumped by my fiancé of two years, conveniently only just after having moved to a different country to be with him. Stalked by an ex with emails detailing his sex life with previous partners. Broken up with on a long-distance phone call.
My short foray into internet dating bombed when I failed to fully appreciate one guy’s need to be in touch with his inner child; or another’s phone reading of poetry (Rilke ‘Der Panther’). Maybe I just wasn’t New Age enough. Another cancelled our first date on the day because he got back together with his ex-wife the night before.
I’m trying to think what traumatizing things I may have done to any of my exes or interested parties. Aside from the fact that I once dropped off one guy at the airport after a weekend visit only to turn around and go to dinner with another, I’m not coming up with much. Maybe that’s selective memory.
Anyway, this is all for real, I promise. I couldn’t make it up if I tried. Of course most of it wasn’t particularly amusing at the time. But time is a great healer. Brings out the funny side of things.
If you let it. If you let go.
Maybe not straight away, but eventually. I promise. And I’m not making that up either.