"I Was Wasting My Time..."

"I was wasting my time trying to fall in love
disappointment came to me and booted me and bruised and hurt me"

"I was wasting my time praying for love /
For the love that never comes from someone who does not exist."

- Morrissey, "That's How People Grow Up"

Many years ago, when I was a kid, I remember discovering what I thought was the most ingenious time-saving technique: when looking to cross a street and the crosswalk light was red, I could save time by walking towards the destination on my side of the street, while keeping an eye out for the next green light. Brilliant! I felt quite pleased with myself. "Now I'm a man," I metaphorically said, "I've unlocked the last of life's mysteries. There is no more knowledge left to be discovered!" Hey, waddaya want? I was like 8 or something..

For the past few years - and I think I'm not alone among bachelors my age - I've essentially been using this trick where relationships were concerned. During my many dry spells, I sort of figured I could make up for future lost time by at least accruing wisdom. I'd listen to my friends' tales of marvelous successes and horrible failures, observe, read, concoct hypotheses, theorize; and maybe, maybe - I'd be that much smarter for when it was my "turn". I'd know what to look out for. I'd have picked up some advice without paying the price others have. I'd circumvent the so-common disastrous relationship, and skip to the real deal. So sure, maybe I'd lose out on the wonderful turbulent-yet-romantic crosswalk of 20-something love, but I'd still be strolling across from it on my end of the street, gazing patiently, ready to leap straight into "good relationship" - whatever that means - as soon as I would pass by a green-lighted crosswalk.

The problem with that idea is that it presupposed I'd hit a green light at some point. To be honest - I'm getting less and less sure. This isn't a desperation thing- not some impending-30s crisis or neighbor's-greener-grass complex - nor an expression of lack of self-confidence, it's simply an attempt to realign expectations with reality. The assumption that "you'll find someone", "every pot has its lid" etc. just ain't working out for this novel-in-progress.

In the past, I've always had my deep-set optimism to rely on to snap me out of these thoughts. Lately, however, it hasn't been happening: where once I could see where a potential window of opportunity might emerge, I've lately been feeling that I've well and truly maxed out my options. Even the old drive that would push me out of the house, which I've alluded to all over this blog, even on the very first post - isn't there. It feels pointless after so many past nights out on the town, only around one hundredth of which made it to these pages. Everything's still in place, and I'm the same person I've always been, but one thing's changed - my optimism.

As I told a friend recently, if romance is earth, I'm feeling like Voyager 2, floating away on an entirely different trajectory.

OK, I'll quit my whining now...