I’m still stuck on the whole husband-hunting thing.
The hell, man.
My mom and my friend I just visited both had the same commentary: Wouldn’t he be the lucky one to land me? Because, I am a catch, damn it.
Plus I think you need a few hundred more dates for that, yes?
I found a journal I was keeping at this time last year. I gave him all the space he needed. And he needed plenty.
I don’t mind working on a relationship. I look forward to it. But dating shouldn’t be hard.
Sorry, but I want someone who’s thrilled to get my time.
So when the impartial third-party friend said, wow, you two are just so GOOD together, I meant when I said it that this particular ship has sailed.
And sunk.
Funny how you are a certain version of yourself at a certain point in time. And so is the other person. And I’m not that girl anymore and he’s not that guy.
Would our newer versions of ourselves like each other more? Maybe, maybe not. Can’t say I’m in a hurry to find out.
I read something on Thought Catalog today, that we should abolish dating and the farce of going to places we don’t normally visit in clothes we don’t normally wear while trying to represent ourselves in otherwise-unnatural habitats.
Dates should all take place at Starbucks or somewhere that’s “us” (individual us, because that’s what we are and will always be). Save the fancy dinners and the zip-lining for when the coupling happens.
Because otherwise, you (like me) might convey that you’re husband-hunting when EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER MET YOU can attest that you just want someone to have a little fun with … who shares the same interests and who looks good and has bright eyes and a killer smile who brings out your playful side and who, if you’re lucky, throws you up against a wall and pulls your hair a little and makes your thighs and other places quiver.
Husband-hunting. Pfft. I ain’t mad, homeskillet. I’m just sorry that you couldn’t stand the idea of being Goddess-worthy. It’s a lot to live up to, I understand.
As Prince once sang: “The beautiful ones, they hurt you every time …”