It Really Is Them!

19 Jan

So people always tell you that you aren’t alone and for the most part you believe them. But when it comes to dating and you have as much bad luck as I do, you begin to wonder what is going on with the Dating Gods.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’ve come to expect nothing, appreciate the funny stories I get out of each dating disaster, but it gets tiresome. Who would like to tell all of their married/couple friends why the last guy didn’t make it on a regular basis?

To give you the short list:  Baby Mama Drama? I’ve experienced it. Twice (yeah, shame on me I guess.) Recovering alcoholic? Surely. Abused as a young child? You bet. Not enough time/too much time? Add it to the list. Seemingly normal but eventually overly clingly and stalkerish? Ugh, yes. Only interested in dating but tells you well after the fact? Uh-huh. (NOTE: they never reveal their true colors until they are drinking or casually mention one of the above. Usually this occurs after you have deemed them to be worthy of your time, a few dates, your little black dress, and maybe even a home cooked meal. Bonus points if they break down in tears at any point during your brief dating experience. Yeah, I have had that too… three or four times now.)

After realizing the other day that I have dated seven (7) guys in six (6) months… well, I was astonished.

Until this evening. Enter my good friend’s 25th birthday party where I found three other single woman, all like me. Young. Successful. Similar age. Single.

We started swapping stories. We all have had guys who do nothing but text (hence the dating phrase, “talking to,”) and never call. We all have had guys just randomly stop calling after they tell us how much they like us. We have dated young, old, (un)employed, (lack of) college degree, etc etc. And there we stood, drinks in hand, laughing and rejoicing in the fact that it’s not just us. We are not alone. So we swapped phone numbers and vowed to expand our friendship circle… whether we will or not, let me tell you, not only was this weight off my shoulders it was reassuring and reinforced what Darling and my good friends have been telling me for years now:

It’s not me… it’s them!

And perhaps sweet irony as I’m getting out my car upon my return hom, Mr. “I love My Ex” Cop drove by and waved. I just walked on.


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